01x21 - The Great Compromise

[bunniefuu]

They say breakfast
is the most important meal of the day...

...but ever since Noah's surrogate, a.k.a.
my dad's pregnant girlfriend, moved in...

...it was also the most awkward.

Pregnancy cravings?

No. I eat this every day.

It's a good source of energy
because it's live.

What's live?

My chia seed porridge, silly.

- Mm, you got a little chia there.
- Mm.

You know what never gets
stuck in your teeth?

White icing.

- Good morning.
- Morning.

Is it school picture day?

What? Heh, that's very funny.

- I don't get it.
- George usually comes to breakfast in...

...old sweatpants and a nasal strip.

Thank you, Tessa.

I warmed up your icing.

Oh, thank you. I am starving.

"No. Don't do it, George.

I'm so much healthier and yummier.

Try me. I'm on the stove."

Don't look at me.
It's the chia seed talking.

Did I miss something? Heh.

Eden's food is alive.

Her comic timing...

- Okay. Hey, you cooked this, huh?
- Mm-hm.

Okay. That's nice.

- That's, uh, very rich and earthy, isn't it?
- George.

I went to all this trouble.

Oh, well, okay, wait a minute.

Best of both worlds.

"Help! I'm drowning in a pool of fructose.

I can't feel my own goodness."

How long are you in town for?

So...

- ...how long is she in town for?
- It's a fair question.

Answer? I wanna mark it down
on my calendar with a smiley face.

Okay, well.

Late June, she should deliver.
So early July...

...she should be... Could be leaving.

Might be the middle of August.
I'm not exactly sure.

But whether it's many,
many weeks more...

...or only three weeks more,
or six months...

...from when she moved in,
or a year from when she first conceived...

- ...or three months from mid-June.
- You haven't discussed it yet.

No, we haven't talked about that.

Have you discussed how long she spends
in the bathroom every morning...

...when I need to get ready?

I know it's annoying having
someone in your space...

...telling you what to eat, how to live
and to not use the Internet.

- What?
- Doesn't want us to use the Internet.

- Because...
- Wireless signal causes fetal sterility.

So she's worried about the baby
having babies?

It would seem so, yeah.

But, hey, look, I know it's a lot
to put up with, but it's not forever.

Right.

Just three months...

...or many, many weeks from the
midsummer date you refuse to commit to.

Right.

All right. Another great scheduled
visitation with my unborn baby.

See you next visit.

- Bells on.
- And, no, you don't have to have...

- ...your office call to confirm. I'll be here.
- Good stuff. That's good, stuff.

- You are screwed.
- Beg pardon?

She's got that baby
wrapped around her uterus.

She's got the uterus wrapped around
the baby. It's how it's supposed to be.

You're missing the point, dumb-dumb.

She's in that baby's head all day,
every day.

She's got his ear.

And the male voice he hears the most
belongs to George.

George.

He swears he only let Eden move in
to keep her from going back to Montana...

...but a small part of me wonders
if it wasn't self-motivated.

A big part.

Almost all of me. There is not one
part of me that doesn't feel that!

Then keep your baby close and
the people who carry your baby closer.

If I were you, I would double the length
of those scheduled visits.

Let that baby know who his daddy is.

Oh, he'll know who his daddy is.

- Will he?
- Oh, yeah. He'll know.

- Who's his daddy?
- I am.

- Who's his daddy?
- I'm his daddy!

- Who's his daddy?
- I'm his daddy!

- Who's his daddy?
- I'm his daddy!

- Who's his daddy?
- Who's your daddy?

You've never met. He lives in Oregon!

Dalia, I've been looking
for my keys for 20 minutes...

...and again they were in
the pouch of Penuche, your kangaroo.

He likes shiny things.

I'm well aware. Your kangaroo is a klepto.

And yesterday
he kicked Carmen in the gut.

She provoked him.

Dalia, face it.

Kangaroos weren't meant to live
in spacious Mediterranean revivals.

- So we'll move.
- We are not moving.

Kangaroo Jack is the one who's moving,
to the guesthouse.

But Penuche isn't a guest, he's family.

Can't we just lock up the silver like we do
when the service people are here...

...and make Carmen wear
a medieval suit of armor?

Well, heh, it would be funny to make Carmen
wear a medieval suit of armor.

But, no. No, we can't.

Oh, Lord.

I suspect that's the china cabinet.

Oh, he learned how to open doors!

This is it, Dalia.
This is how the monkeys rose.

It's nice to have someone cooking for us.

Are you kidding, George? It smells like...

Sugarcoated yum-yum. Sweet
sugar yum-yum. Our tummies are growling.

- Heh.
- Nice save, George.

Ta-da!

Mm.
- Introducing wheat meat.

I was worried the extra corn would
make the loaf too loose, but it didn't.

- Yep. She's a firm one.
- Tessa. Come on, let's dig in.

The wheat meat loaf won't eat itself.

- I don't blame it.
- So how was school today?

They made texting a language,
so I can officially drop Spanish.

Okay, Tessa, now, listen to me.
I hated French. I mean, hated it.

But I stuck with it and now?
If we were in Paris...

...and I had a sore throat,
I could tell someone.

- So?
- Tessa, your dad is right.

Oliver Wendell Holmes said:

"Language is the blood
of the soul into which...

- ...thoughts run and out of which they grow."
- "Thoughts run and out of which they grow."

- So...
- That doesn't resonate with me.

Let's take a vote. Whoever thinks
Tessa should continue to feed her soul...

...with the language blood,
raise your hand.

- Oh.
- Is she even registered to vote here?

She is now.

The food sucks. There's no Wi-Fi...

...and the two of them are ganging up on me.
I have to get out of this house.

I'm counting the days
until macramé camp.

I can't stand being under the same roof
with the woman formerly known as "Mother."

- Still harping on the adoption stuff, huh?
- Yeah.

As soon as I get my DNA results back, I can
prove once and for all that I am not a Shay.

Well, I have to figure
out an exit strategy...

...or you'll have to box-weave me
a noose this summer.

Oh, they don't let us do that any more.

But what if you came
to macramé camp with me?

I mean, I, for one, can't wait
to weave my troubles behind me.

Just picture it, Tess.

Cool wind in your hair...

...the feeling of bristly yarn
against your fingertips.

Sound of the interstate
muted by a thin line of balding trees.

Don't know if macramé camp is for me.
I'm more a city girl.

Camp in New York?
The cost of thread alone.

What about an internship?
Like, at a newspaper.

I have experience
on The Chatswin Chatterer.

I could live in Manhattan.

- Think your dad would allow that?
- I don't know, Lisa.

It's complicated. Something's gotta give.

The thing I love most about her movies
is how sexually active the older women are.

You guys were talking
Nancy Meyers, right?

No one who still gets their period
is ever talking about Nancy Meyers.

- We were talking about camp.
- Sports camp? Can't wait.

Sports camp?
We're going to macramé camp.

- I'm not going to macramé camp.
- We're spending the summer together.

Doesn't mean I'm going to macramé camp.
So unless you'll box-weave me a noose...

- They don't do that any more.
- Picture it, Malik.

Cool wind in your hair.

I've gotta go.

The feeling of bristly yarn...

But I had the last laugh.

That summer I grew body hair...

...and after that,
no one called me "Ladypits."

Noah, I can't feel my legs and I have to pee.
You're leaning on my bladder.

So we take a bathroom break.

I'm not completely unreasonable. Empty
out and then we'll travel to junior prom...

...which I almost didn't attend. Ha, ha.

- The theme of my prom was Cats.
- Noah!

Meow, meow, meow...

Enough.

I'm sorry. I just want the baby
to know who I am...

...and to know which cat I dressed up as
to the prom. Rum Tum Tugger.

I'm sorry, Noah, but time is up.

You've been here for three hours
and, frankly, I've had enough.

Okay? Off you go.

"Off you go." Don't talk like that to me
in front of the baby.

Look, I get that you don't like me.

Frankly, I got it a couple of weeks ago
when you moved out.

I moved out because you have no ability
to respect people's boundaries.

You are the one with no respect for me. You
think that I'm going to be a bad father.

But I'll tell you something. If you have
seen me take care of my sports car...

...if you have seen me lint-brush
my cashmere cardigan...

...then you have seen me care
for beautiful things.

And that baby is going to be
my most beautiful thing.

We hope. I mean, you know...

...my mother-in-law, textbook grotesque.

Rest her soul, tsk.

You're a piece of work.

Okay, the only fair way to decide
which camp Melissa attends...

...is for each of you to sample
the other's passion.

Not that passion.

You can sample that passion
on your own time.

If we're good at the other person's passion,
we do have to go to their camp or we don't?

Knot up, Malik, and find your weave.

Sorry if that sounds r*cist.

So, what should I make, a key ring?

- Yawn.
- A friendship bracelet?

- Overdone.
- How am I supposed to...?

"Beweave" in yourself.

Just beweave.

Oh, yeah. I like this stick.
Makes me feel powerful.

Like a warrior! Aah!

Damn, girl.

Told you we should have
explored our passions outside.

My own escape plan was ready to go.
My ink-jet, however...

Print, you stupid page. Print!

Tessa?

- Did you turn on the wireless router?
- No.

Look, I was just temporarily on the Internet
for an important academic endeavor.

- Village Voice internship?
- That's not mine.

Okay, it's mine. Please don't freak out.

Why not? I love alternative weeklies.

- I'm a huge slut for them.
- You are?

My first internship was on
a sustainable farm in Santa Cruz.

It was my job to pee on the compost.

Someone's got to.

Or do they?

Before me, it was a job that
had only been done by men.

Took some real persistence on my part...

...but I proved the nitrogen in my urine
was just as good as any man's.

Of course, they paid me less.

But you got the job.
So do you have any advice for me?

Apply in person.
Let them put a face to the name.

Okay, that's a good idea. But the major
obstacle here is gonna be George.

- Any time I mention the city, he freaks out.
- Let me talk to him for you.

- You just concentrate on getting the gig.
- Really?

Yeah.

Thanks, Eden. That would be a big help.

And can I ask you one more favor?

- No more chia-seed voices?
- Bingo.

- So, what's up?
- Visit with Noah didn't go very well today.

- I kind of threw him out.
- Well, I'm not surprised.

- This pregnancy has made him nuts.
- He flared his nostrils at me.

He's been throwing
a lot of nostril around these days.

I got an eyeful myself last time I saw him.

- I think I was too blunt with him.
- No. Hey, that's what I like about you.

- You're a straight sh**t.
- I'm glad.

Because I sh*t super straight
with Tessa today when she told me...

...she wanted to apply for an internship
with The Village Voice.

An internship?

I dropped her at the train so she could
walk her application in. She's there now.

- She's there right now?
- Are you mad?

Mad? What makes you think I'm mad?

- You keep answering me in questions.
- Do I?

I'm not mad, I'm confused.

- Confused?
- Yeah. I'm confused as to...

...who in their, heh,
right mind would give...

...someone else's kid permission
to do something like that.

Oh, sorry, I just got an urgent text.

So I'm gonna leave abruptly
and not discuss this any further.

- Knock, knock.
- You're not supposed to be here.

I'm here to drop off my application
for the summer internship.

In person.

Oh, we don't take those in person,
so you gotta go submit that online.

Well, I was gonna submit it online and then
I thought, "This is The Village Voice.

Show some respect, Tessa."

- I'm Tessa.
- Troy. Editorial assistant.

Wow, awesome.
Awesome. That's really awesome.

You went to Humanities?

- Before we moved to the suburbs, yeah.
- You moved to the suburbs?

- Major culture shock.
- That'd make a great piece for Village Voice.

Oh, my God, yeah. Troy, I'd love to.

Well, creative decisions aren't up to me.
But thanks for stopping by.

Troy...

...I know you are a snide,
holier-than-thou urbanite.

That's what I love about you.

And that's what I miss about myself.

I really, really want this internship.

I'll scrape gum off your desk.

I will scrub your toilets.

I will trap rodents
in your sixth-floor walk-up.

I live in an elevator building.

But, um, we'll be in touch.

Okay.

Now just turn and walk away.

If he picks up your application
and looks at it, he's interested.

He's interested.

Ugh, George, thanks for coming right over.

Actually, I was glad to get out of my house
for a minute. What's going on?

That rude 'roo ruined my rooms.
I rue the day I agreed to a kangaroo.

He m*nled my Ming
and he wiped his feet on my best Persian.

Gardener, not rug.

You invite someone into your home,
you expect them to treat it with respect.

Exactly, heh.
My roommate situation isn't any better.

Eden totally overstepped her boundaries
with Tessa today.

- Did she b*at her?
- Did she...? No. She didn't b*at her, Dallas.

She gave her permission to do something
I never would have said yes to.

Oh, so Tessa's not upset, you are.
Trust me, George, that's way better.

An angry teenager is worse
than a locust plague.

Dalia won't come out of her room...

...since I said her pet has to live
in the guesthouse.

Haven't seen her this
upset since she saw...

...the opening weekend numbers
for Madea Goes to Jail.

Well, maybe Dalia's emotional
about having her pet sent away...

...because she recently lost something else
that was important to her.

Oh, her online access to Box Office Mojo?

I had to, George.
She's better off ignorant like her dad.

- Oh, you meant her dad.
- Dallas, I never thought I'd say this...

...but let the kangaroo live
in the main house.

Better you wreck your china
than your relationship with your kid.

Well, maybe you've got a point there,
George.

Oh, boy, I tell you.

It isn't easy doing this
parenting thing on your own.

Yeah? I'm so used to doing it on my own,
I have the opposite problem.

- It's tough to let somebody else in.
- I can't stress this enough.

- Hmm?
- Communication is key.

Lord knows, that's one thing
that Steven and I never got right.

Don't run away.

- Go talk to her.
- You're right.

You have that option.

Unlike our kangaroo, Eden speaks English
and she doesn't try to kick you in the gut.

Heh, you sure you don't need help
with the rest of this?

Ugh, Carmen will get it.

That woman loves to clean up after us,
I swear, heh.

You ever notice how we seem to solve
things when we get in a room together?

Now that you mention it,
we do make a pretty good team.

- Yeah, we're like Mulder and Scully.
- Ha, ha, we certainly are.

- It's a TV show.
- Heh, I know, silly. So funny.

Guess you better get home
to your girl, Scully.

Nope.

But I'm terrible at lacrosse
and you're a macramé superstar.

I'm good at everything.
I shouldn't be penalized for that.

I wanna go to sports camp.

Who's thirsty?

Thanks, "Mother."

You're welcome, "Lisa."

Now, I can't help but have overheard
your entire conversation and taken a side.

Lisa, stand by your man.

Malik, that outfit is fly.

Fine. I give up.
Let's go to stupid sports camp.

No. I'll go to macramé camp.

- You need this more than me.
- I really do, Malik. I really do.

I'm gonna weave you
a macramé bikini, girl.

You're gonna look good.

George, I feel terrible.

- I stuck my nose in where it didn't belong.
- Eden, your nose belongs.

Mine just got a little
out of joint for a minute.

I'm sorry I walked out on you.

But I admit...

...I am not used to having someone else
make decisions for Tessa, other than me.

Oh, I totally understand.

It's just... You said I got a vote,
so I thought I got a vote.

Right. Okay, well, the, uh,
the polls have to be open, heh.

- And I just don't think they are on this one.
- It's fine. It's not my district.

I can totally mind my own business where
Tessa is concerned, if that's what you want.

- That's not what I want.
- Oh, hello. Welcome home.

Oh, so now you're perfectly happy
to have Eden chime in...

...as long as she agrees with you.

I could say the same thing about you.

You were happy to give her a vote
when it served your agenda.

Parenting is not an agenda.

I'm sorry, but you're not spending
the summer in Manhattan. There.

You are such a dictator!

Guys. Uh, I know we're still...

...trying to determine if I'm allowed
to weigh in on this, but I have an idea.

You can tell me to shut up,
but what if Tessa commutes?

Shut up.

Ha, ha, just trying to lighten the mood.
Continue.

- So, what if Tessa commutes...?
- Shut up. Sorry.

Shut up, please. Sorry.

I'm sorry. Guess I just have a problem
with those two words, "Tessa commutes"...

- ...when they're together.
- Are you finished?

So, what if your daughter...

...travels to the city to do her
internship, but she comes home at night?

- Shut up.
- Shut up.

- And he gets you a train pass.
- That doesn't sound like a bad compromise.

But then I won't be able to hang out with
my friends after work. Or go out at night.

Or do anything in the city. All I'll see
is the inside of an office building.

Yes, but a New York City office building.

Hey. It could be a lot worse.
It could be a flat-out no.

You should hear the slam
when it's a flat-out no.

So, what's up?

I wanted you to know
that I've decided to 86...

...the scheduled visitations with Eden.

She doesn't enjoy them.

- Frankly, they've become uncomfortable.
- I'm sorry if this is all my fault.

I thought having Eden move in
was the right decision...

- ...but it just pissed everyone off.
- It'll be fine. I'll give Eden some space.

I'll see my baby
when it climbs out of her doughnut hole.

"Her doughnut hole"?
I think you mean her doughnut.

No, I don't. A doughnut hole
is the actual hole in the doughnut.

Oh, yeah? Then how is it that I can buy
a dozen of them, glazed or unglazed?

What you have been purchasing,
my friend, are doughnut balls.

- Heh.
- Deemed doughnut holes by morons.

A hole is negative space.

Well, I think we can all agree
we're in a negative space.

What the hell is wrong with this man?

Kiss her, Mulder, kiss her.

Why the hell won't he kiss her?