Well, I always painted. And my - my mother always encouraged it. I mean, she was really sort of - she was sort of fabulous about it actually . . . and she used to . . . you know, I was too young to think anything wrong with it, and she was - she was very natural. So, she used to pose nude for me . . . and I always thought, or I guess I assumed that my father knew about it.
This stuff is pointless.
Hey! Let him finish please.
You like sad stories? You wanna hear mine?
Stop! [to Simon] Go ahead. Really. Please don't let him stop you.
Um, one day, he walked in, and he found us, and he just - he started screaming.
[Melvin speaks quickly.]
My father didn't come out of his room for eleven years. He used to hit me on the hands with a yardstick if I made a mistake playing the piano. Huh?
Go ahead, Simon. So, you said he came in your room, and he was yelling?
Uh-huh.
Please. Come on.
Um, he was, uh, um . . .
Come on.
Yeah. I know. I mean, um, he was - I was - I remember I was defending my mother, and I - I was trying to, um, you know, make peace in the - the lamest way. I said . . .
[He and Carol laugh.]
And he started hitting me. And he beat me unconscious. And he talked to me less and less after that. I mean, he - you know, he knew what I was before I did. And the morning that I left for college, he walked into my room, and he held out his hand, and - and it was filled with money. A big, sweaty wad of money. And he said, "I don't want you to ever come back." And I just grabbed him, and I hugged him, and he turned and walked out.
[Carol kisses her fingers and touches them to Simon's cheek.]
Hey, we all have these terrible stories to get over. You--
That's not true. Some of us have great stories. Pretty stories that take place at lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. Just no one in this car. But, a lot of people, that's their story: good times, noodle salad. What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad, but that you're that pissed that so many others had it good.
No! I don't think so.
Not it at all, really.
Not it at all, huh?
[Simon shakes his head.]
Okay. Let's, uh, go to the hotel and, uh, tomorrow, you'll see if you can get another big wad of sweaty money out of his hand.
