I've imagined it
so many times.
How among
all the other questions
certain to have come
to you was,
"What will happen to the dog?"
He's there,
at the top of the hill
between the two bridges,
silhouetted
against the limpid sky.
You're making this up.
I'm certainly not making it up.
Limpid is one of your words.
Well, limpid's made up, sure.
But I didn't make it up.
Some other guy did.
"Limpid."
This really happened. Hang on.
Voil!
It was like
he was magicked there.
Like one
of Andersen's giant dogs.
- And no collar.
- No.
- No tag.
- Nothing.
Wait. Hans Christian--
You know the story.
A soldier steals a tinderbox.
He opens it up.
Three giant dogs appear
to grant any wish
that he desires.
Walter,
that story is a r*pe fantasy.
-No, no, no. Come on.
-The pervy soldier is obsessed
with the king's daughter,
so he had the dogs kidnap her.
As revenge.
It's Danish social commentary.
So he can have sex with her
while she's sleeping.
Well, that's Danish.
Okay. You could have a point.
- Thank you.
- -The fact is the dog magically appeared.
So, how's Barbara
feeling about this magical dog
suddenly appearing
out of nowhere?
Barbara was a much better sport
about my grown daughter
magically appearing
out of nowhere.
How is your daughter?
She's spectacular.
She's working with Iris now
- on The Letters.
- How's it going?
Oh, it's good
to have a partner. Yeah.
Another writer in the family?
Thank you.
Do you recognize this voice?
I don't.
Uh... It's Walter.
Where are you?
I found that old computer,
but I can't boot it
or kick it
or whatever you do to it.
And that little prick in Iis completely useless.
Please call me.
Do you recognize this voice?
I don't.
Uh... It's Walter.
Where are you?
I found that--
You loved to
tell your students,
"Beware the inevitable detail.
Guard against anticipation.
Embrace disorder."
Yet, many of the stories
I read in writing workshops
begin, inevitably, with someone
getting up in the morning.
Much less often
does a story begin
with someone going to bed.
Of course,
real people seldom behave
as predictably
as characters in stories.
That's one of the first things
you taught me as a writer.
And strangely,
one of the last things
we talked about
while you were still alive.
And o'er this sickle bending;
I listened,
motionless and still;
As I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after
it was heard no more.
Ah.
I'm a mess, sorry.
I thought I would read
a few of Walter's words.
He wrote this in 2010.
It's also the passage I chose
to begin my upcoming book
about our time together.
Hello? Hello?
Um...
Good afternoon.
My husband's
students and colleagues
meant as much to him...
...as his writing.
Well, almost as much.
You were
the community of friends,
writers, and readers,
and sometimes even critics,
who prodded and pushed him.
And loved him
in so many different ways.
Excuse me.
-I had no idea you were coming.
-I wasn't going to.
But then I thought,
you know, closure.
God, Iris,
almost 20 years.
How did that happen?
I always imagined coming back.
It's really good
to see you.
Wife number two
is a piece of work, huh?
Oh, you don't know
the half of it.
She's really milking
the bereaved widow thing.
I mean, for a number two.
Google says we're
"surviving divorced wives."
-Oh.
-There can only be one widow.
-Feeling cheated?
-Relieved.
Excuse me.
-Oh, thank you.
-Thank you.
To...
him.
Him.
God, what an as*h*le.
But what about you?
How's your writing going?
-Oh.
-I read The Counting. Stunning.
-Really?
-Really.
-What are you working on now?
-I'm not.
Well, I was.
I started a novel a couple
of years ago, but... Yeah.
The worst writer's block
of my life.
Maybe because I called it
Eastern Bloc.
- Ouch.
- Hey.
Hey. I was looking for you
-when I came in.
-Oh, God. Yeah.
I was late. Ah.
I feel like a party crasher.
Or like something bad
is about to happen.
Hasn't something bad
already happened?
Uh...
Sorry. I'm... I'm Elaine.
-Wife number one.
-Oh, Elaine. Right. Yes.
Iris has told me
so much about you. Hi.
- Hi.
- Yeah.
-Val. Val, Elaine.
-Hey.
-This is Walter's daughter.
-Hi.
Walter's...
daughter.
Wow.
"Daughter" daughter?
Step-daughter? Widow's daughter?
-Uh, what?
-Hello, Val.
- Barbara.
- You must be Elaine.
-The memorial was beautiful.
-Thank you.
I really appreciate you
including me.
Iris, I need to talk
with you about something.
I was hoping
you'd come by the house.
Maybe early in the week?
- Yeah.
- Excuse me, ladies.
Hello, Iris. Yeah.
- You missed half my poem.
- Oh.
Yeah. "Oh." It's okay.
Sanderson, um,
wants to talk to you.
Thank you, Jerry. Oh.
And I go back to work
-on Wednesday, so...
-Okay.
-I'll call you. Yeah.
-Thank you.
Call me.
I should have
introduced myself sooner.
No, it wouldn't
have helped. Believe me.
What do you think Barbara
wants to talk to you about?
I have no idea.
Walking
with Samuel Beckett
one fine spring morning,
a friend asked,
"Doesn't a day like this
make you glad to be alive?"
Beckett responded...
I wouldn't go
as far as that.
And another
from your hero, Beckett.
The day that I die
will be like any other day,
only shorter.
You cracked us up
with the line...
"The more
suicidal people there are,
the less suicidal people
there are."
Hola, Ms. Iris.
-That time already, is it?
-Oh, yeah.
Santa Claus is coming to town.
h*, h*, h*.
I've read
that almost all people
who attempt suicide and survive
regret having tried.
Like jumpers who say that
as soon as they hit the air
they knew
they didn't really wanna die.
I wonder about you.
About how you might have felt.
The thought
keeps me up at night.
"Mancini drove a Buick
that appeared out of nowhere.
Nobody asked questions.
They all just chipped in
for gas.
And three hours later,
they were at the Blue Horizon
to watch George Benton,
master of the Philly Shell
slip and block
and elude punches
in a display of the sublime.
'Make them miss
and make them pay.'
Maybe Sid was perverse,
but he loved making them miss
more than making them pay.
That was his ideal,
inside the ring and out.
It was easier in the ring.
Outside, even the guys
who were untouchable,
who were blessed
with clairvoyance
or some uncanny genius,
got destroyed.
Outside, life was
chaotic and artless.
And you took three punches
to land one."
"The sharpness of the betrayal
cut like a knife.
There was no doubt anymore.
It was her ex."
It's good. Better than it was.
I like the ending.
But Jane's still not very much
like a character in a story.
She's more like a real person.
Not like the kind of
guys that you write about.
-Like that kind of story.
-No. I'm just saying--
Like no winged phantoms
-or ritual beheadings.
-I just don't see
the point writing
about somebody totally regular.
I mean, with everything
going on in the world.
-The world? Are you kidding?
-I'm just offering
-an honest critique.
-Carter, what do you mean
by "regular"?
I mean, the look and everything.
I know a lot of Janes.
Well, all I heard was
she's got red hair, green eyes.
There's more detail
on my driver's license.
Maybe you meant a regular woman.
Is the other girl tall?
I don't know why we let them
critique each other's work.
Blind leading the blind.
Down a dead-end alley.
I'm so sorry about Walter.
Wow, pure sympathy.
Drive-by condolence.
-Hey.
-Hey.
- How's it going?
- Yeah, good. You?
Yeah. Okay.
Get ready.
-Jeez, this is a dinosaur.
-Yeah.
But all his emails should be
on there until 2007.
-And your guy...
-Rico.
...should be able
to crack the code.
Yeah, he will.
Said he'd do it tonight.
Okay. Tomorrow then?
-Yeah. I'll come over.
-Great. Be careful.
-There's no backup.
-Got it.
It's precious.
And we'll make a backup, so...
Hey. How are you doing?
Hmm. I don't know. You?
You know.
I still haven't cried.
Well, people feel
the way they feel.
But it just feels wrong.
It's like I'm missing something.
I cried
when my phone screen cracked.
What did Barbara want?
I don't know.
I'm headed there now.
You think it's about me?
Why would it be about you?
Is that a rhetorical question?
Bye.
I wanna tell you that
no matter how much I sleep,
I'm exhausted.
That I feel
as though I'm losing control.
Like my life story is being
written by someone else.
Thanks so much for coming.
Earl Grey?
-I hope that's all right.
-Yeah.
So, tell me. How are you doing?
How's it going with the book?
Are you and Val
still getting along?
Oh, yeah. She's...
She's great. She, uh...
Well, we're moving
a little slow,
but you know,
we're figuring it out.
And she found some...
She found some guy that
uh, is helping
get these emails
off his thousand-year-old
computer.
Oh, God, right.
That ancient laptop.
Have you spoken with Jerry
about perhaps
bringing on another editor?
Why do you ask?
Did he say something?
No. Well, yes. Only, as you say,
that things are going slowly.
Huh. So, that's what
you wanted to talk to me about?
Oh, no. Of course not.
I don't know publishing.
That's between you and Jerry,
how best to finish the book.
I think you know
how much Walter appreciated
you taking time out
from your own writing
to edit his correspondence.
Hm.
I think it was a mistake
for Walter to stop teaching.
Um...
He loved it.
But all that
"misconduct" nonsense,
it was demoralizing.
Of course, once he stopped,
he missed it.
Oh. Just let me...
Things being what they are now,
I suppose most
writers in the world
wonder what their place is, huh?
Well... So, you are
probably wondering
why I asked you here.
It's about the dog.
I wanted to ask
if you could take him.
-Apollo? That dog?
-Yes.
No.
No.
No. I... I... I can't.
They don't allow dogs
in my building.
-Are you sure?
-Yes, I'm sure.
Yeah.
-Uh, could he not stay here?
-Oh, no, no, no.
That's what I'm trying to say.
He needs to be re-homed.
-Re-homed?
-He's been miserable here.
The poor thing wasn't eating.
And he would wait by that door
day and night.
Every time I managed
to pull myself together,
I'd look at him there,
and then...
fall apart.
What about Val?
Iris.
Some other family member?
I'm at my wit's end.
All the sanctuaries have
such long waiting lists.
He can't spend the rest
of his life in the kennel.
-You... You put him in a kennel?
-What else could I do?
He didn't understand that Papa
is never coming home again.
How...
How can you explain death
to a dog?
What if you took him
for a little while?
Even that
would be a very big help.
You will see,
he is very obedient.
He knows all the commands.
He doesn't bark.
He doesn't destroy things.
Doesn't have accidents.
And he knows
to stay off the bed.
Yeah, well I'm sure
all of that is true.
I know this is a lot to ask.
But I have to tell you,
the truth is
this is what Walter wanted.
You were his contingency plan.
His what?
I don't like dogs.
And he knew that.
I begged him not to keep it,
but he was determined.
And in the middle
of the worst fight
that we have ever had,
he assured me that
should things go wrong,
that the dog would go
and live with you.
-Why would he say that?
-You live on your own,
you don't have kids
or a partner.
And you love animals.
-Uh. I love animals, Barbara.
-Hm.
I love animals, yes.
I love cats.
I don't love... I... I...
Apollo? He's...
Contingency plan? Why would...
Why would he say that
without mentioning it to me?
I wouldn't make this up.
You were his best friend.
Oh, God.
Hey.
Come on.
Apollo.
Come now.
I'm sorry.
This way. Come on. It's here.
Come on.
Jesus.
Okay. Let's try again.
I'll go first. You follow me.
Hey.
Come on. Let's go.
Let's go in. Come on.
Come on. Let's go.
Apollo.
Okay. sh*t.
Uh... Excuse me.
Are you going up?
-After you.
-Okay. Thanks.
That's it.
One more.
Okay. Hold on, bud.
Yeah. This is... This is it.
This is where I live.
Apollo.
No. No. Get off the bed. Off.
Get off.
What a liar.
You home?
Zoinks.
There's a pony on your bed.
A very sad pony.
He was Walter's.
Yeah, I remember.
I thought you were a cat person.
It's just temporary.
Uh, Apollo, Marjorie.
Apollo.
Teensy bit allergic.
Good luck, hon.
I'm home if you need anything.
Yeah, thanks. Call me.
Come on, doggy.
Come on.
You gotta be hungry, right?
Here you go.
Okay.
Well, it's right there.
You've reached
the Tri-state Great Dane Rescue
hotline. Please...
What do you want?
Some music?
Okay. Let's see.
Oh.
My dad's favorite.
You're gonna like this.
Maybe?
Maybe not.
Come on. This is my bed.
Seriously?
Okay.
Okay. You stay there.
Yeah, I know.
A hundred percent,
you have to Uber at night.
It's dangerous in New York now.
-Hey. Can you...?
-Yeah. Sorry. Sorry.
Come on, Rocco.
Yeah.
Come on.
Let's go in the park.
Ugh.
Oh. Uh...
Hello, Ms. Iris. Hi.
-Hey, Hektor. How's it going?
-Good. Good.
-I heard there was a dog.
-Yeah.
Uh... This dog has...
The... The...
The owner,
he died quite suddenly.
-Wow, that's sad.
-Yeah.
But there are no dogs allowed.
-It's just until I can find a--
-No. Not even temporary.
But there's no one else.
I'm sorry, Ms. Iris. No dogs.
Okay. Here. How's this?
Bye.
Everyone's got their own way
of processing criticism.
Yeah, well, hers must be,
"Back off, as*h*le."
Did you find anything helpful
in what Jenna was saying?
You mean about female
characters?
I mean, I love that you're
writing speculative fiction.
I write tons of
female characters.
Like, all the time.
I have to delete all that
before I read in class.
Your workshop is mostly girls,
in case you hadn't noticed.
And there's, like, you know,
sex and stuff.
-They'd crucify me.
-Mm-hmm.
But I'll let you read it.
Yeah, well, we are coming
to the end of term, so--
It will be my best stuff.
Pretty intense
but super romantic.
Less porny than, like,
Game of Thrones,
or whatever.
-Oh, Come in.
-Oh, sorry.
No, no.
We were just finishing up.
Uh. How about a bite
before the movie?
- Is that a Great Dane?
- What? Carter--
Are you adopting
a Great Dane?
-No.
-They're the king of dogs.
There's this crazy Dane meetup
in Central Park every Sunday.
I go just to watch sometimes.
-Are you getting a dog?
-No, I'm not.
Well, you'd love a Dane.
Thanks for the tip.
-What was that all about?
-Please, let's just forget it.
Bite to eat?
Oh.
Blossom, I'm sorry.
I have to get home.
I think he missed you.
What...
Bad dog!
Bad, bad dog!
You bad dog!
Damn it.
Thanks.
That's exactly what Walter
thought of Eastern Bloc too.
That's just great.
Come on, you gotta eat sometime.
Maybe you spoiled your appetite
on my pillows.
And my writer's block.
- Hello?
- Yo! It's me.
sh*t.
Come on up.
This is all your fault.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-You forgot.
-No.
Jesus. This guy?
Ah, yeah.
Hey, big bro.
So, this is what Barbara
wanted to talk to you about?
Yeah.
Are you even allowed here?
It's only until
I can find someone else.
Then what, you'll re-home him?
-He just got here.
-Uh...
Poor guy.
He's taken over my bed.
And he won't even
look at me. See?
And whoever said that music
soothes the savage beast--
-It's savage breast.
-What?
It's "music soothes
the savage breast."
Oh. Well, there you go.
No wonder.
Does your breast need soothing?
Hm?
I bet it does.
Is now a bad time?
-You really forgot?
-No.
Okay, yes.
I thought we were gonna do it
after the boat thing.
No, I said Rico
would do it right away,
and then you said tonight.
Besides,
I'm not going on the boat.
Well, I guess
I didn't believe you.
Well, you should have.
It might be helpful.
For what? My feelings?
Well, sometimes those
kind of rituals can be--
No, it's not about
my feelings. It's just, like,
really not my thing.
It's their thing.
Walter's people.
And besides,
they don't want me there.
No, I think everyone
is really hoping to see you.
Trust me. They're not.
I just remind them
things about him
that they wish
they could forget.
No. You are not something
to forget.
Do you wanna look at the drive?
We don't have to.
Yeah. Let's do it. Why not?
What happened in here?-
I... He doesn't like
being left alone.
Um, well,
Rico recovered everything.
Thirty thousand emails, I think.
Thirty thousand?
Three of which
were to my mother.
Which tells you everything
you need to know
-about that relationship.
-Oh, I'm sorry.
No. Don't be sorry.
It wasn't like that
between them. I...
I didn't expect
there to be more.
But anyway,
there's, like, 300 letters.
And I found this one.
"What a stroke of luck,
the two of us being in Berlin
at the same time.
I can't stop thinking about
the green-blue floes
drifting along the Spree."
Oh, jeez.
Oh, sorry.
Do you not want me to...
No, no, go on. It's okay.
"Jaggedly foreboding,
more translucent somehow,
for the steely sky.
Breathtaking. What..."
What's he doing?
Uh. I don't know.
Hm.
Okay. Um...
"What a happy day together.
I'd been missing you
terribly, Iris,
these past months,
and now, once again,
I find myself sadly bereft.
But these new pages of yours.
I'm enthralled.
Fabulous work,
riveting and wondrous."
Do you think Walter read to him?
Yeah, I'm sure. He...
He'd read to anyone
who'd listen.
Hm.
What?
Just imagining
what that might have been like.
Being read to by Walter.
Numbing. That's how.
Let me read to you, and him.
"The goal of the expedition
was to map a tributary,
of a tributary of the Amazon.
The poetically named
River of Doubt.
And..."
Amazing. Is that what you like?
The written word?
Does that soothe
your savage breast?
Okay, okay, okay.
Wouldn't want to overdo it.
I want to read a poem
called "My Spirit Will Not Haunt
The Mound" by Thomas Hardy.
My spirit will not haunt
the mound
Above my breast,
But travel, memory-possessed,
To where my tremulous being...
It's just he is so big,
and your apartment
is like a shoebox.
You've never been
to my apartment.
Well, I've heard. From Walter.
You two would discuss
the size of my apartment?
We talked about a lot of things.
It just seems cruel, Iris.
Barbara, um, you were right.
There's no space
in any of the local rescues.
You can't just re-home
Walter's dog.
I really wish
you'd reconsider.
I know it's
what Walter wanted.
Come on, did he
actually say that?
That's what he wanted?
Iris.
Thank you.
Walk me to the train?
Yeah. Come on, big guy.
That dog, he's so Walter.
You mean, the swinging ba*ls?
Walter
would've hated today.
The ashes.
Flowers. Mournful poem.
He'd have loved
seeing his three wives
stuck on a tiny boat together.
We should've invited
the girlfriends.
"You're gonna need
a bigger boat."
God.
I never told you that I...
I knew about the two of you.
That you'd been together.
Did Walter tell you?
I guessed. Then I asked him,
and he, you know, owned it.
He was so proud of himself
that you'd remained friends.
But he never really
shared details.
It was...
that summer,
that last class
we took from him.
We just kept hanging out.
Going for walks. Coffees.
One night, out of the blue...
We'd been drinking.
...he just suddenly said to me,
"We should f*ck."
And I didn't expect it with us.
After so much time together.
I'd seen it
with other students, but...
-Yeah.
-So, I just stared at him
and said, "Why?"
- "Why?"
- Yeah. He laughed too.
And then he said, "We should
find that out about each other."
-He didn't.
-He did. And then we did.
Men like Walter
and their beloved language.
Isn't it disappointing that
when it comes time to seduce,
they all sound the same?
Hm.
I mean,
at that point in my life,
I was so intense
about everything.
I wanted every experience.
And he...
He was just
so f*cking sophisticated.
And?
And then that was it.
The next day, he pronounced it
a mistake for us
to try and be more than friends.
-What a cad.
-Yeah.
I was mortified. And angry.
And I didn't think for a second
we could ever be friends again.
-And then my dad got sick.
-I remember.
Right, and he shows up
at the funeral,
and it was really nice.
And weirdly okay.
And then you two started up,
and it was all normal again.
Why didn't you
ever say anything?
I don't know.
It didn't seem to matter.
We were all friends.
Yeah. I guess it didn't.
But then
Walter and I split.
And I was jealous.
-Of me?
-Of your relationship with him.
Yeah, your...
Your friendship.
Your best friendship.
That he found a way
to do that with you.
That he wanted it.
Without the sex.
For God's sake,
he left you his trusted steed.
Oh, God.
Hey.
Tell me. Um...
That class we took with Walter.
It's Shauna, right?
Val's mom is Shauna?
-God, you're good at this.
-Yeah.
The second I left the reception,
it hit me.
She and Val,
they could be twins.
No, but it was
right after you split.
I know. I know. I know.
I know. I did the math.
And you know what?
It's... It's okay.
No, it's not.
f*ck.
Can we stay in touch this time?
Oh, Ms. Iris,
I thought I told you, the dog.
-When will you get rid of him?
-Yeah.
Not yet.
-I'm working on it.
-No.
You can't just work on it.
You gotta make him go.
Hektor, he has a name.
-Apollo.
-Yes, I know.
Apollo, right.
Apollo. Hektor. Okay?
Apollo. Hek...
Oh. Yeah. Okay, yes.
Look, he can't stay, Ms. Iris.
Management company,
they are very strict.
It's not a problem.
I'm working on it.
-Just a few days.
-Um...
-And I am working on it.
-Okay.
-I promise.
-You said that already.
But this... He's... Okay.
You okay?
Oh, bud.
It's okay. I know.
I know.
A hundred and fifty-one.
About where he should be.
Little arthritis in the hips,
but, uh, otherwise,
he's in good shape. For his age.
Which is what, do you think?
Uh, five. Maybe six.
-Getting on for a Dane.
-Six is old?
Big dogs are like butterflies.
But he's okay.
And what about the fit
he had last night?
Well, he lost his master.
He's in mourning.
Before that, he was abandoned.
How would you feel?
Sit.
-Good dog.
-Wow.
I've never seen him
do that before.
Well, he's smart.
Give you a piece of advice.
The trick
with large breeds like this
is never let them
know the truth.
And the truth is,
you can't really make them do
anything they don't wanna do.
Stand your ground.
And for God's sake,
get yourself back up on the bed
and him on the floor.
Well, during that last fit,
when I was getting on the bed,
-he let me sit.
-Let you?
No, no, no, no, no.
Get him off the bed.
Give you this for the joints.
He's a good dog.
Don't turn him into a bad one.
Hey. Hey, Apollo.
Hey. Sit.
What...
You like them big, don't you?
Okay.
Here you go, bud.
A nice bed for you.
Really?
Okay.
Fine.
Knock yourself out.
Aw, dude, come on.
Hi, love. Brainstorm.
I'll adopt Apollo.
Cleared with co-op board
and Barbara,
so we're 100% good to go.
Call me. Xo.
Her even offering
seems suspicious, no?
Maybe Tuesday's
actually trying to help.
Help? She hates me.
You sound paranoid.
Tell me you've
never heard of people
taking revenge on
someone's child or pet.
Okay. First of all, uh,
he is Walter's child
or pet, not yours.
All... All I'm saying is,
you have no other options,
and you don't wanna lose
a rent-controlled apartment.
So, maybe you ought
to hear Tuesday out.
How is the book going, anyway?
We started in on his email,
but it's kind of a slog
without him here, you know?
Yeah, I can imagine
how that would change things.
But how much
was he even working
with you before?
You know...
-Hold on a second.
- Yeah, okay.
Yeah, yeah. I'm coming.
-Hey.
-Hey. Sorry.
-I just...
-Are you okay?
Yes. Can you tell those people,
your neighbors...
just open the door.
Because I was standing out there
for, like,
-f*cking ever.
-Oh.
Hi.
Aw, that's so cute.
-Like father, like daughter.
-Oh.
-Hm?
-Ah...
- Hi, Val.
-Oh, hi.
- Bye, Val.
-Yeah. Uh...
Bye.
-Hi.
-Sorry. I'm interrupting.
No, it's fine.
It's just that the L train
was gonna take 20, which gave me
just enough time
to break up with that d*uche.
You know that guy
I've been seeing.
sh*t.
-The train didn't come.
-Oh.
You wanna crash here?
Okay, come on.
You're a pal.
So, one too many?
Maybe just one. Um...
You're so wrong.
Tuesday hates me way worse.
Careful. Yeah, well,
it's not a competition.
With her, there's plenty
of hate to go around.
I'm just saying
that lady is crazy.
So, yeah,
you have to question her sh*t.
I mean, why would you even think
about letting her have Apollo?
-It's not that simple.
-It is that simple.
I just can't keep
having him here.
And he's getting in the way
of my work. Our work.
I just don't think
it's that different.
Oh, my God. What is that?
Oh.
That, my friend,
is yesterday's kombucha.
Um...
You should put that away.
I guess I don't think
it's that different.
We've been working on the book
for over a year now.
What does that mean?
It means, way before
my dad k*lled himself,
or before Apollo
even came along, I just...
I don't think
it's about the dog.
Hey, I... I put just as much
time into the book as I do--
No, I'm not complaining.
Walter warned me.
Warned you?
About your pace.
My pa...
You two talked about my pace?
-Are you kidding me?
-Maybe it wasn't your pace.
Well, what then?
What did you talk about?
Yeah, it was...
It was your pace.
He worried about
you going too slow,
about pushing you to finish.
I care about the book, you know.
I wanna finish it too.
And you think I don't?
Sorry, I shouldn't have said
anything. My...
My head hurts.
You gotta do something
about this dog, though.
I can't keep watching him
every time you go out.
Right, doggo? Huh?
Hi, big bro.
What do you wanna do?
What'd our dad want
if he were here?
You wanna go live
with a crazy lady?
What are you looking at?
Well, it's not that
I don't like her.
-She's lovely, she's bright.
-What, then?
-I like to work by myself.
-She's very bright.
-I just said that, didn't I?
-You might appreciate
another perspective,
you know.
Someone to bounce things off of.
-That's not the point.
-She's young,
energetic, and my daughter.
Right, but she hardly knows you.
She doesn't know your work
or relationships.
And that's exactly what
I'm trying to fix.
So, I'm the fixer?
Everyone knows
that you fix things.
-Ah.
-She's already here.
Since when have I ever-- What?
Why didn't you tell me
she was coming?
What the f*ck?
- Hi.
- Ah.
Hey.
You think
this is a bad idea, don't you?
No. It's great.
It is a bad idea because
we haven't had coffee yet.
Soon, all will be perfect.
It's just a trial.
Okay? One day. That's all.
To see if it's a good match.
And who knows, maybe she's not
as irritating to a dog. Go on.
Hi. Tuesday Chang, please.
Good job. Good boy.
Yes, that's it.
See? That wasn't so bad.
Why can't you be like that
with our elevator?
My elevator.
Maybe that will be
your elevator one day.
Okay.
Was there a problem?
Uh... How do you mean?
It just normally
doesn't take people
so long to get up the elevator.
Oh, no. No problem.
I heard talking.
Nope.
Okay.
-Well, come on in.
-Yeah.
-Oh, my God. He's ginormous.
-Yeah. I know.
Maybe it's just being inside.
Or this hallway.
No.
Look, I brought some food
-and treats and toys and stuff.
-Yes.
But he doesn't really
like to play with them.
Sometimes, this Kong thing.
-But mainly, he's just sad.
-Aw.
He likes to sleep.
And he loves being read to.
Well, my godson's head is gonna
explode when he sees him.
I'll be back around five,
so probably you just
need to go out once,
-around two.
-Two.
Normally, he likes to go out
three times a day.
Oh, wow, I didn't realize.
That he'd need to go out?
Well, three times a day, I mean.
- Oh, yeah.
- My friend uses
-something called pee pads.
-Oh, trust me.
You don't want to try that.
Oh. No, no, no,
no, no, no. Down.
Apollo, off. Do...
Can you...?
It's a vintage Tacchini.
I can't imagine Walter
let him just go willy-nilly
-wherever he wanted.
-Ah.
I'm quite sure he did.
That's ridiculous.
Barbara told me
that the dog
was perfectly behaved.
Yeah, well,
she told me the same thing,
but there you have it,
willy-nilly
all over your vintage zucchini.
Are you mocking me?
What? No. No, of course not.
I... I'm sorry.
Okay.
I'm running late. But, uh...
I'll be back around five.
But thank you.
Why would Walter
leave the dog to you?
What?
I mean, if he's like this.
Unmanageable.
I mean, your apartment,
for God's sake.
Even for one person...
What is it about my apartment?
I just think that maybe
Barbara misunderstood.
You know it's not as if Walter
put it in writing.
You mean, in the run-up
to k*lling himself?
I'm sure
it was on his to-do list.
Oh, okay. God.
You know what? Just...
Just tell me what else
I need to know.
About Apollo, or in general?
Okay, I was wrong.
She's just as irritating
to a dog.
Let's go this way.
No. Not that way.
Here. Let's go...
-Back up. Sorry, ma'am.
-No, no, no!
-No dogs inside, ma'am.
-What?
-I...
-No dogs inside.
I have an appointment.
I'm running late.
So, can you just help me?
-No dogs inside.
-I have an appointment.
Can you let me in?
-I can't. I'm sorry.
-Sir!
-Can you call your boss, please?
-Can you please remove the dog?
No, I will not.
Just let me inside, please.
I can't do it.
It's my job on the line.
Okay, right. I'll sit here too.
5-3 to base. I need
some assistance up here.
And they have
a big dog here too.
I'm really sorry about all that.
Reception can be such a-holes.
I mean, so random
to involve the police.
- This way.
- Oh.
Come on.
I have Iris
- and Apollo.
- I'm sorry.
- Come in, come in.
- Hi.
-Wow!
-Um, yeah.
I think your security team
overreacted.
I heard. Not to worry.
Not to worry.
-Sorry. I didn't plan on this.
-Please, sit.
-Okay, thanks.
-Yeah.
Okay, bud. Sit.
-Bravo.
-Good job.
Did you teach him that
or Walter?
Uh, I think he came with it.
-Impressive.
-Mm.
Does he need anything?
Oh, I think
Sophie was getting him some...
-Oh. Fiji water.
-Here we go.
-Wow, fancy. Fancy.
-Here you go.
- He's so thirsty.
- Yeah.
-I'll be at my desk.
-Okay.
I'm sorry about the mess.
So, he seems better
-than he was on the boat.
-Mmm.
-How's the book going?
-Uh...
I know that's what
you wanted to talk about.
And I have been working,
Val too, but...
Should I be looking
for another editor?
I know with the grieving
and the feelings--
No, definitely not. No.
Okay, then I'll be blunt.
I need this book.
Dead Walter is suddenly
hotter than live Walter.
There's considerable interest
in his correspondence,
and we've got
to capitalize on it. Now.
-I understand.
-If you need help,
-or you don't want to...
-No.
I said...
I understand.
Fine.
What are you gonna do
about the dog?
Okay. Let's go, bud.
Uh, I'm late for school.
And Val's AWOL,
so you're just gonna have to be
by yourself again, okay?
You just stay there.
And you're gonna promise
not to destroy my apartment.
Okay?
Good. Good boy.
You're gonna be a good boy.
How about some music, huh?
Okay, good.
All right.
Okay, be a good boy. Please.
Please, pretty please.
Don't wreck the apartment.
Okay.
Goodbye.
"The South to her,
a sexy accent inviting
her up worn wooden stairs.
The South was defanged
and charming,
a relic of history.
Like this boy who took notes
with a No. 2 pencil
and a Moleskine notebook.
In the Google Doc,
where she and her best friend
kept their senior year
bucket lists,
she wrote under 14: Get
published in The New Yorker."
Good boy.
Good boy, Apollo.
Very good boy.
I've been playing
my father's records for him.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Bass arias, mostly.
I think he's kind of into it.
He isn't.
Audiobooks, not so much.
Talk radio,
movie soundtracks, no.
To be honest, I don't think
he likes anything
as much as he likes
being read to.
That he really loves. A lot.
You're not thinking
of keeping him now?
No. Of course not.
Okay. Come on.
One more. Getting our steps in.
-Oh. And it's a tie.
-A tie.
Ta-da! Almost.
Okay. Thanks for that.
You're gonna come in
for some tea?
No. I'll start sneezing
-like a lunatic in there.
-Yeah.
I wish you'd think again
about coming to Woodstock
-for Christmas.
-Oh, sh*t.
What?
"You are in violation
of allowing
a dog to occupy the premises
and despite repeated warnings
from building superintendent
Hektor Cepeda.
If you continue to keep said dog
-in the apartment--"
-"Said dog"?
It should say sad dog.
-They're going to evict me.
-No.
No, no.
You've been here so long now.
And before that, your dad.
This is your home.
Iris, you cannot lose
this apartment.
You will never find another
place you can afford.
Not in the city.
Not anywhere with this roommate.
What about the shelter
in Michigan?
Oh, I'm still on the wait-list.
I need to speak
directly to the landlord.
Who's to say
the man's a heartless prick?
I am.
He tried to evict me
when I renovated my kitchen.
-You need a plan B.
-But...
I just need a little more time.
The only alternative is
to put him back in the kennel.
I can't let that happen.
Hello. Hey, Ms. Iris.
Did you know about this?
They're going to evict me.
Oh, Ms. Iris, what do you think
I was talking about when I said
-"the dog"?
-You know I'm trying.
-You know that.
-You're not trying.
And you know how I know
that you're not trying?
Because the dog is still here.
No?
It's not about the dog for them.
They want me out
so they can triple the rent.
That's not my problem.
They told me to tell you,
Ms. Iris.
So, I'm telling you, okay?
No dog.
Yes, I'd like to speak
to Howard, please.
No, I don't wanna speak
to a supervisor.
Yeah. Okay, fine. Just...
Have him call me back.
Please. It's urgent.
Merry Christmas.
What do dogs think
seeing humans cry?
What do they make
of human sadness?
I keep thinking of you.
How among
all the other questions
certain to have come
to you was...
What's gonna happen
to the dog?
Did you bring the wreath?
What wreath?
The Merry Christmas wreath
-for the window.
-No.
Where's your coat
and hat?
Left them
at the office.
What's the matter?
Nothing's the matter.
- Come in. Come in.
- Ta-da!
Oh, I'm so glad you came.
I know you didn't want to.
Get yourself a drink.
-You take that.
-And a hat.
-A hat. Okay.
-Yes.
Hi.
Iris.
-Oh, Blossom.
-Oh.
-Happy New Year.
-Happy New Year.
-You came alone.
-Very funny.
- How's your roommate?
- He's fine.
Marjorie told me
about the letter.
Yeah, well,
I'm not gonna be evicted, okay?
Easy. Just asking.
I was just talking to Shervin.
Have you met Shervin?
- Ah. No. Hi.
- Hey.
-How's it going?
-Nice to meet you.
Shervin's a friend
of Marjorie's.
He's a broker.
And Shervin was just telling me
how impossible it is to find
a pet-friendly apartment
in New York these days.
- Are you looking?
- Uh, no. I'm really not.
What kind of pet
do you have?
Oh, the Great Dane?
-Uh, he's not--
-Iris. Iris.
Such a long time.
-Harry. Oh, my goodness.
-Hey.
-So many years.
-I hardly get in town anymore.
-Oh, my God.
-This is my husband, Larry.
-Hi.
-Larry.
Your husband, Larry.
Harry, Larry. That's adorable.
Iris lives right next door.
Her father Gary sang with me
-in the g*y Men's Chorus.
-Oh.
You're the one with the dog.
Oh, yeah.
I've heard crazy stories.
Are you gonna lose
your apartment?
-No.
-I love big dogs,
but I could never do
what you're doing.
I gave Marjorie
the name of a rescue
in Delaware. They're amazing.
Five is kind of old
for a Dane, isn't it?
What are you gonna do
when he becomes,
you know, incontinent?
-Bye.
-Thank you so much.
Happy New Year to you.
Happy New Year, darling.
-Bye-bye.
-Bye-bye.
Take care.
Oh, honey, it's late.
Go home.
No, no. It's okay.
-You're mad.
-No.
Maybe just a little?
I did think this was
a New Year's party,
not an intervention.
People are concerned.
I'm concerned.
You're my friend.
You're more than my friend.
When your father got sick,
I don't know what
would have happened without you,
if you hadn't moved in
with him to help.
I miss him. A lot.
I don't wanna miss you too.
I actually did hear back
from the Michigan rescue, so...
They can take him now?
Well, that's good news.
Hey.
How you doing?
Hey, bud.
Hey.
Come on, boy.
Get in.
Stay.
-Ms. Iris, I...
-Can you just...
watch him, please?
Sure. Sure.
Sorry.
I wanted to come sooner.
But L train-hell train.
Marjorie clued me in.
Gimme.
Thanks.
You all right?
You know. I hear
wife number three is in China.
Or is it Macao?
Is Macao in China?
-Wow, look at that.
-Oh.
Hey, big boy.
It's a nice dog.
Gimme.
I almost forgot.
Here.
I looked for an Iris, but...
Thanks.
Bye, big bro. I'll miss you.
You're doing the right thing.
You think?
I don't know.
Maybe.
Yeah.
Call me when you get back.
Please.
Okay. You okay?
Bye.
See ya.
I've imagined it
so many times,
how among
all the other questions
certain to have
come to you was...
"What will happen to the dog?"
We expect the worst.
It's something we learn early,
from children's books.
In those stories,
animals often die.
Often tragically.
Old Yeller. The Red Pony.
And even when they survive,
even when they're happy
at the end,
they've often suffered badly.
Often put through hell.
Black Beauty.
Flicka. White Fang. Buck.
Okay. Okay.
Okay.
Dogs don't commit suicide.
They don't weep.
But they can fall to pieces.
They can have
their hearts broken.
They can lose their minds.
Oh.
Good boy.
Murtle, hush.
Hey. So, you know
how some people say
their dog is an emotional
support animal
so they can get them
on the plane?
Yeah, I know,
but I was wondering...
I know it's uncool,
but I was wondering
if the same law might prevent
the landlord from...
Right. Just do a quick search
and call me back, okay?
Perfect.
Jerky?
Val? Val?
Hey, Val? Can you hear me?
Directions
to Hershey, Pennsylvania.
sh*t. Hold on.
- Val? Hey.
- Oh, hey. There you are.
I started looking,
and I think maybe you're right
about being able to keep
a service dog in an apartment.
Any apartment.
Though he's gotta
be registered,
you know, for real.
Not by one
of those fakey places.
Like, by a shrink.
Is that what you're gonna do?
Oh, excuse me.
Hi. I spoke to someone
on the phone
about seeing Dr. Warren.
-I'm sorry, your name?
-Iris.
Oh, right.
You couldn't make it earlier.
I was... You know,
I was thinking
maybe I could sit and wait.
Oh, no.
It doesn't work like that.
You know what,
I'm gonna go ahead and just sit.
Uh...
- That's fine.
- Uh...
Ma'am.
Okay.
Ma'am.
Ma'am, you can't.
Hi, Dr. Warren.
Do you remember me?
-Um...
-It's been a couple of years.
But Iris. Iris Dixon.
Oh, yes, yes, Iris. Of course.
Oh. Are you, um...
Do we have an appointment?
I called, uh, before.
-Lydia?
-Uh...
Apollo was sad.
Like, truly sad.
I could feel him missing Walter
in the same way I did.
-You know what I mean?
-Mm-hm.
Anyway, the certificate is...
Could you...
Well, you'll have to apply
for it, but yes,
I could write an evaluation
saying that you're suffering
from depression and anxiety
aggravated by bereavement,
that the dog provides
essential emotional support,
the loss of which may likely
cause harm to your mental health
or might even be
life-threatening.
Does that sound okay?
That sounds like a lot.
It's what you're asking for,
isn't it?
Yeah, well, I guess I just...
I saw it the other way around.
Like, I'm the emotional
support human,
and it's the dog
that can't cope.
You... You think I'm a mess.
No, no. Not at all.
Why a mess?
Well, I know people who
genuinely need support animals
would hate people like me.
I would too. But I'm not
one of those crazies.
I would never take him anywhere
he's not supposed to go.
In fact, I left him
in the car right now.
Here's the thing.
I cannot get thrown
out of my apartment.
In the car, here?
He thinks you should come in.
Come on, bud.
He's very friendly.
They do seem
to know things, don't they?
Oh, bud.
Do you ever talk to Apollo?
Oh, yeah,
but the vet told me I should.
The most natural thing
in the world.
-What do you two talk about?
-I don't know.
Anything. Like...
What's up, pup?
You hungry?
Does your arthritis hurt?
Does this top go
with these pants?
Can you tell I've been drinking?
Some... Sometimes, I feel rage.
You know.
About Walter.
Especially in crowded places.
Like, I keep thinking,
who are all these
f*cking people,
and how come
they get to be alive.
And he's just...
Walter made a choice,
though, didn't he?
-Yeah, but...
-And yet,
your rage isn't directed at him?
Tell me, then,
why do you think
Walter k*lled himself?
I don't know.
I don't f*cking know.
Because he was weak and in pain?
And like he was...
trapped upside down
in a f*cking tankful of water.
Were you in love with him?
No. I know
I was not in love with Walter.
Sometimes,
putting a name on our feelings
can help
with the grieving process.
Look, I know about grief.
I know what love feels like,
and that wasn't it.
I wasn't hoping
for something more.
I'm only suggesting...
We were friends, not lovers.
And yes, sometimes, okay,
sometimes,
I got jealous or possessive.
We... We... We could just
talk for hours.
About anything.
Art. But...
Music. Books. So many books.
It was just effortless.
Like...
breathing together.
And now he's gone.
Yeah. He's gone.
He's f*cking gone.
He's f*cking...
k*lled himself,
and it's just the way it is.
If Walter were here right now,
what would you like
to say to him?
If you could say anything.
Anything.
Look, you're a writer.
Maybe it would help
if you write about it.
About Walter?
About what happened.
What?
Is this the madness
at the heart of it,
the fairy tale
I whisper to myself?
That if I love
beautiful, aging Apollo,
that if I act selflessly,
I'll wake up one morning
to find him gone
and you in his place,
back from the land of the dead?
How does the story begin?
We start with a woman.
She rides on the subway.
Is she alone?
No.
She has brought a dog with her.
A miniature Dachshund.
And some daffodils.
Where is she going?
She's going
to visit an old friend.
The friend lives
in a brownstone
in Brooklyn.
See her now walking up
the steps of the brownstone.
See her ring the doorbell.
She waits,
uncertain.
Hello.
Hi.
Come on in.
Does the friend
live alone?
No. He lives with his wife,
but she isn't home today.
She's at work.
Exactly
what did Barbara tell you
about what happened?
That she was away
on a business trip.
But the flight was canceled
because of a storm in Denver.
And when she got back here,
she found the dog
outside the study,
with a note on the door
for your cleaning lady
warning her to call 911.
The cleaning lady
was scheduled to come in
the next morning.
But you're right.
If one of my students
had put that in a story,
I'd have said, "Gee, isn't that
just a little bit too easy?"
Hm.
So, how do you feel now?
Humiliated, disgraced.
Ordinary human reactions.
Hm. I know that.
I've been reading up on suicide.
You'd better stop that.
Suicide is contagious.
What choice did I have?
It's been...
confusing.
Okay. I get that.
What are you gonna do
about the book?
The book.
I've decided to step away
from the book.
Your book.
What do you mean, my book?
I gave you complete control.
I'm feeling conflicted
about my own writing.
Well, you weren't doing
any writing before the book.
I thought
this would be good for you.
No. When you asked me
to work on your correspondence,
you weren't thinking about me.
You were thinking
about you and your legacy.
Your existential crisis
is my fault?
I'm not blaming you.
But you made a choice,
and you put me
in an impossible position.
-I have?
-And Val too.
But she's fine.
She can finish the book
without me.
I'm thinking about
writing something else.
Well, that is wonderful.
-What about?
-You.
About what happened.
It came to me suddenly one night
I was watching
It's a Wonderful Life.
I'm sure you've seen it.
-Many times.
-Yeah.
And I'm sitting there
with Jip in my lap.
And I was thinking
what a crummy thing suicide is.
The pain for everyone left
behind. And the dumb luck in it.
Having an angel
come down and save you.
Or not.
Which means you're dead.
This might be the place
to bring in some comedy.
Comedy?
You k*lled yourself.
You think that's funny?
Oh, I should have said,
-my book is fiction.
-I know what that means.
You're gonna change
my name to Wally,
or...
-Wilber?
-Nah.
I'm not gonna use names at all.
Except for the dog.
Well, Jip's in it.
That makes me happy.
Oh.
And your character is English.
Yeah, I thought
that might sting a bit.
I could be Italian.
Everyone wants to be Italian.
You're exploiting my life.
It's the least you could do.
Not your life, your death.
You see? He hates that word.
You know,
I'm looking at your face.
Do you feel sleazy?
You should.
What kind of friend does this
to a friend?
Tell me.
You made a choice to end things.
And that's what this is about.
That is not what this is about.
Go ask your shrink.
What makes you think
I'm seeing a shrink?
Well, isn't that obvious?
Why else would we
be having this conversation?
Okay. I did not fulfill
your needs as a teacher,
as a lover, as a friend.
Or are we still dealing
with your f*cking
daddy issues? Okay.
I'm sorry that
yours left the family.
I'm sorry that he got sick.
I'm sorry that he died.
And the way that he died.
My father fought for his life.
He clung to it. He loved it.
He loved everyone around him.
And he...
Oh, forget it.
I shouldn't be doing this.
I don't know
what I was thinking.
Why don't you put
that to Dr. Obvious?
What were you thinking?
I'll tell you
what I wasn't thinking.
I wasn't thinking
you're a monster
of selfishness and self-pity.
I wasn't resenting you
for throwing away
such a precious life.
And I didn't think
you chose suicide just to punish
those around you that loved you.
It's clear,
you weren't considering us
at all.
Well, in my defense,
I was suicidal.
Literally.
That lack of consideration.
For me, for Val, Apollo.
Who in the hell is Apollo?
Jip is Apollo.
He's a dog.
And he was not present
at the moment of my death.
Apollo was devoted to you.
Your best friend.
The center of his world.
And you left
him alone in the house
with your body.
He scratched at the door.
He was listening the whole time
as your life was draining away.
Did you hear him, Apollo,
in those moments?
Did you?
The least you could have done...
is find him a decent home first.
He had you.
He always had you.
Is that really what you thought?
Who cares what I thought.
I'm dead.
And now you got me here
with a wiener dog.
What else do you want?
Nothing anymore.
I can't think of anything else.
What's gonna happen
to the dog?
Yes, I know.
And I spoke
with the city before,
and they told me
as long as I have
proper documentation
from my doctor...
Why would you continue with
the eviction process when...
I've tried calling him twice,
maybe three times now,
and no one is calling me back.
Well, this is not
your judgment call.
Come on.
Oh, Ms. Iris.
I was looking for you.
-Why?
-They just called.
-We have a problem.
-Who? Who called?
The building management.
They called from Florida.
-They're not very happy.
-Wh... I...
I just talked to them.
And they--
They told me
that you talked to them,
and then
they called the lawyer, see.
-The law...
-Yeah.
What? What did they say?
The lawyer, well, I don't know.
He... He said...
I can't...
They said
that they have no choice.
- No choice?
- No choice.
-About?
-They have no choice
about Apollo.
They cannot evict you.
What?
So...
-Are you...
-No.
-So, that's it?
-That's it.
-It's done.
-Done.
That's it.
-Oh, my God.
-Yeah.
You hear that, Apollo?
You don't have to go anywhere.
You stay here.
Forever. Okay, boy?
You're such a good boy.
Just like that.
This is a good thing.
Yes. Yes, it's very good.
Very good. Thank you.
Okay. That's okay.
-Okay.
-Oh, my God.
Yeah. Listen, I just...
I apologize to...
Because, you know.
I was...
That's my job, you know.
-Yeah, no. That--
-He's a very nice dog.
Yeah.
-That makes sense.
-Okay.
-Okay.
-Okay, see you later.
Oh. Hektor, I have
a very nice bottle
of champagne in the fridge.
-Wow, no. No.
-Just a little celebration.
-I cannot really. I can't.
-Would you come on in?
-Just five minutes of your time.
-But... Okay. Five.
Five minutes, okay.
Excuse me. Is that Apollo?
-You know Apollo?
-Well,
I mean,
I haven't seen him for a while,
but he was a regular here
for about a year.
Apollo?
Yeah, his owner's... tall.
He's a...
He's a writer, I think.
Walter.
He died last year.
I'm sorry to hear that.
Ah. Thank you.
He sure was proud of that dog.
I mean, I must've heard him
tell the story
of finding Apollo,
I don't know, uh, a lot.
He's a beautiful animal.
Sure is.
Hey...
big guy.
How are you?
What are you looking at?
Huh? Who's in charge of you?
How did you end up here?
Hey, wanna go
get some breakfast?
What are you looking at?
It's not uncommon
to wonder what someone you love
was like before you met them.
Let me see. Oh, look at you.
You got two different colors,
a blue eye and a brown eye.
It almost hurts
not knowing
what that person
was like as a child.
That's pretty cool.
I've felt this way
about the men I've loved,
and about many close friends.
And now
it's how I feel about you.
Not to have known you
as a frisky young dog,
to have missed
your entire puppyhood,
I don't feel just sad.
I feel cheated.
I think of you when
you'd wake me years ago,
in the middle of the night,
inhaling every inch of me
as I lay on the floor.
Who was I to you then,
and what have I become
to you now
after so much time?
After what they paid us
for this place,
-they'll knock it down for sure.
-Oh, my God.
So, Apollo can do whatever.
The beach, it comes
and goes with the tide.
But you'll get used to it.
I think.
You'll be able to write,
won't you?
-Yeah.
-And Apollo can wander.
As much as he's able to now.
This is... perfect. Thank you.
Yeah.
My mom practically grew up here.
I guess I did too.
She needs the money now, so...
Oh. Hello.
Yeah. It came in
a couple of days ago.
I wanted to leave one
for you to find.
Come on, Val.
This is...
This is fantastic.
Congratulations.
You too.
Like I said, they don't take
possession until end of May.
So, go nuts.
-Stay the night.
-No. I can't.
-Come on.
-I have to get back.
And you guys should settle.
Thank you.
One more summer.
At least you get that.
And I get to say goodbye.
Am I talking to you
or to myself?
I confess,
the line has gotten blurred.
What were you like
in your prime?
Where did you run and play?
Who did you play with?
Are you seeing the ocean
for the first time?
One miracle is not enough now.
That disaster was averted,
that we were spared separation
or eviction.
It's not enough.
Now I'm like
the fisherman's wife.
I want more.
And not just another summer
or two.
I want you to live
as long as I do.
Anything less is unfair.
Apollo?
Apollo?
Apollo?
Hello, my friend.
Oh.
Come here.
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