"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved.  This is
*not* an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could
write.  Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich
material for fanfics....

This is [or should be] the twentieth episode of The Driven Wild Universe.
It follows 1) "Rose-Colored Lenses," 2) "The Tie That Chokes," 3) "That
Thing You Say," 4) "'Shipped Out," 5) "Andrea Speaks!", 6) "Cheered Down,"
7) "None in the Family, Part One, "8) "None in the Family, Part Two," 9)
"Outvoted," 10) "Of Absolute Value," 11) "Breaking the Mold," 12)
"Surreal World," 13) "Erin the Head," 14) "Primarily Color," 15) "The
Age of Cynicism," 16) "Charge of the Math Brigade," 17) "An Uneasy Marriage,"
18) "In Her Own Words," and 19) "All But Forgotten."

This fic is, like, a 5S, I think.  It's the longest yet.  Sit and
read it all at once, and yer bum will grow numb.  Heh.

A note on the title: As many of you know, the original title for this
fic was "Memory Lane."  I still think it sounds better, but I and several
of my beta-readers worried that it implied a Lane family connection that
didn't exist.  Thus, I changed it to "Memory *Road*," after this bit of
dialogue between Daria and Quinn in "Boxing Daria":

DARIA:  Do you remember us having one of these when we were kids?

QUINN:  Daria, I'm doing manual labor here? I'm not in the mood for a
stroll down memory road.

I thought the connection was neat.  Both the episode and the fanfic
involve flashbacking and family troubles.  Both also are deeper and
more emotional than the ones that preceded it.  Runners up for the
title included "Evasion Maneuvers" and "Blameless."  You'll see why.


Before we launch into it, I want to apologize if it seemed like I
was teasing you about when this second half would be released.  Trust
me, it was out of eagerness that I kept saying "It'll be ready soon!
Soon, soon, soon!"  Thank you for your patience.  And enjoy!!!!!!!!!!


(Black screen.  Suddenly two circles, encasing two eyes, appear.)

DARIA: (VO)  Oh joy, another recap.  Is it just me, or do these get
longer each time I watch television?  Just another reminder to trade
mine in for that stainless steel knife collection.  (Bt)  After "Sick
Sad World" goes off the air, of course.

(Pause)

DARIA: (sighing)  Previously on "Daria"...

... Quinn learns she has a major vision problem and needs
glasses.
... Quinn's glasses conspire with her math teacher to turn
her into a completely unfashionable math geek.
... Mom discovers she has a knack for sculpting.
... Dad discovers he has a knack for tutoring Quinn, just as I
learn I have a knack for torturing Quinn.
... And just when I'd stopped worrying about dying alone,
Aunt Amy sends over pictures of her peachy keen life with
her boyfriend.
... The ensuing raging envy I feel leads me to set up Trent Lane
with my cousin Erin.  &%#$@^%?!!
... And later I moan about my depressing life to people even more
pathetic than me on an underground newspaper.

(Pause)

DARIA:  Oh, wait... you want a recap of the previous *episode*.
Why didn't you say so?  (Bt)  Previously on "Daria"...

[Shot of Helen and her boss in Helen's office.]

ERIC:  Helen.  (meaningful look.)  You need rest.  So you don't end up
getting a much longer rest.

(Helen catches his meaning, swallows hard.)

[Shot of Amy and Joel with Helen, in their living room.]

AMY: (sleepy) It's not your *habit* to drop in on people after midnight,
is it?

[Later shot of Amy coming over to Helen on the couch.]

AMY:  Hel--

(Helen reaches forward and grabs her sister around the waste.  Pressing her
face against Amy's side, she starts shivering and crying noiselessly.  Amy
looks down at her, stunned.  Then she leans down awkwardly and lays her
arms around her.)

[Shot of Amy and Joel in bed.]

JOEL:  She came to *you* with her problems, didn't she?

AMY:  Which brings us to the great mystery.  Why *me*?

[Shot of Daria and Quinn in the kitchen, watching Jake leave.]

QUINN:  He didn't even *ask* where Mom was.  It's like he doesn't even *care*.

DARIA: (more calm, but still alarmed)  Now, now.  Let's not jump to any
conclusions.

[Shot of Jane, Daria, and Quinn in the Pizza King]

JANE:  So what would be the harm in following him?

[Driving shot of them arriving at the park.]

[Shots of Daria, Jane, and Quinn watching Jake play ball.]

(In preparation, Jake beats his bat against the ground -- one time so
hard, it sends pain shocks through his hands and causes him to drop
the bat.  He yelps with pain.  Daria cocks a brow: "Typical Dad."
Just then DeMartino bounds out of the dug-out, claps Jake on the
back.)

VOICES ALL AROUND:  Yeahhhh Prof!  Whoo-hoo!

JAKE: (warm gratitude)  Thanks, Tony!  This one's gonna be for you.

[Later shot of Daria talking to Jane, angry.  Shot of Quinn watching
from afar, wearing a left-out expression.]

DARIA: (devoid of sarcasm) They should have told us the truth, Jane.
What they're up to could have major impact on our family, yet they're
too selfish to let me and Quinn come to terms with it.

[Shot Helen and Amy by Amy's car.]

HELEN:  It was you.  I kept wondering what my main reason for visiting
was, and now I know: you're the cause of my problems.  You *started*
everything.

AMY: (winces at her angry tone)  You're not just looking for a convenient
villain?

[Flashback shot of Helen and Greg kissing from "An Uneasy Marriage."]

[Shot Helen and Amy in the car, evening.]

AMY:  I don't think you can put things back the way they were, and I
don't think *you* think so, either.  (more gentle.)  And in spite of
the pain and confusion you're feeling, do you really believe it'd be
better to go back?

HELEN:  It's selfish of me to even *think* I could walk out on my sweet
Jakey and turn my girls' lives upside down because of some fleeting
moment of satisfaction.

[Significant look from Amy.]

[Shot of Amy, with that same look, and Joel in the living room.]

AMY: (softly)  I just need more time with her.

[Shot of Amy and Daria on the phone.]

AMY:  Please Daria, if there's any time you should trust me, it's now.
I want your mom to get better, too.

DARIA: (as though there's a painful knot in her throat)  All right.  I
trust you.

AMY:  Thanks.

DARIA:  But...

AMY:  Yeah?

DARIA:  Just... (can't get the last words out.)

AMY: (inviting)  What?  What's on your mind?

DARIA:  Nothing.

[The phone slides from her hand.]


[intro theme music...................]

MEMORY ROAD -- by Kara Wild


ACT ONE

SCENE 1 (Amy's place, middle of the night)

(Shot of the outside of the apartment building, entirely dark
except for a thin glowing outline from the moonlight.  Cut
to shot of Amy and Joel in bed.  Amy is sound asleep, looking as
though every fiber of her being needs rest.  Joel shifts around
beside her, his eyes open.  A couple of times he turns to look
at his sleeping lover before focusing his gaze on the ceiling.)

(Cut to shot of Helen lying sideways in the guest bed with the
sheets tangled around her.  Her eyes are also open, and her mind
moves at a mile a minute.)

(Dissolve to a flashback.  Close-up of a young Helen, around ten
years old.  Her hair is a couple of shades lighter, and in contrast
to the breezy confidence she shows as an adult, she looks withdrawn.
Zoom out to show that she's sitting on a couch in the Barksdale family
den, her legs drawn to her chest.  Several seconds pass in silence,
until we cut to a shot of a woman peeking at her through the door.
She turns, and we recognize her as Helen's mother, Evelyn Barksdale.
Frowning with concern, or perhaps annoyance, she walks into the posh
living room, where a few relative are seated.  A young Rita plays with
her dolls on the floor.)

EVELYN:  I honestly don't know what's gotten into her.  She's
been like this for weeks.

EVELYN'S MOTHER: She's probably just nervous.  It's a big change,
after all.

RITA: (chipper) I'm not nervous.  I'm excited.

(Evelyn smiles indulgently, then tries to bend over and stroke Rita's
hair, but finds it too difficult.)

EVELYN: Yes, you are a good sister, aren't you?

EVELYN'S MOTHER-IN-LAW: (Helen and Rita's Grandma Barksdale)  It's
too bad Howard's been so busy lately.  He could talk some sense
into her.

EVELYN:  I don't think even he can help.

(Cut to shot of young Helen, sitting there silently.)

EVELYN: (VO) She barely eats and sleeps.  She cries on and off and
hates to leave the house.  And she hardly ever talks.  (stressed.)
I don't know what to do for her!  I'm in no position to deal with
this right now.

EVELYN'S MOTHER: (sympathetic)  Of course not.  You just rest, dear.

(The voices fade as we return to the present.  Helen shifts in the
guest bed, then sighs and sits up.)

HELEN: (thought VO)  I hate bad memories.  Why can't I just keep
my mind on the positive?  (frowns.)  But if I could do that, would
I be here?

(After a few more seconds, she stands and walks out of the room.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 2 (living room)

(Shot of Helen seated on the couch, holding a framed photograph in
her hands.  In contrast to her earlier mood, she looks quietly
thoughtful.)

HELEN: (thought VO)  All right, Helen. You've cried yourself
dry.  You've run away.  Now what are you going to do?

(She looks at the photograph, as if wishing it would yield a
response.)

HELEN: (thought VO)  That sounds like something Amy would say.
You're lucky she talks to you at all, after what you accused her of.

(Helen takes a deep breath, and her eyes narrow with resolve.)

HELEN:  First thing you'll do is apologize to her in the morning.
And then, you'll go home and talk to Jake.  And if he loves you,
he'll forgive you.  Then we'll get help... and you'll refocus on
your career and get everything back on track.

(Her expression becomes more vulnerable.)

HELEN:  You won't let fear paralyze you.  You're not a child anymore.

(She presses her chin to her chest and rocks slowly back and forth,
trying to take comfort in these thoughts.  Suddenly there's a faint
creaking sound off screen.  Helen turns toward the doorway and sees
a faint shadow across the floor.)

HELEN:  Amy?

(After another beat, Joel steps into full view.)

HELEN:  Joel.

JOEL:  (tired, gruff)  Lovely middle of the night, isn't it?

HELEN: (concern)  I didn't wake you, did I?

JOEL:  Not unless you made the greasy hoagie that's churning inside
of me.

HELEN:  But after the way I was... (chuckles, embarrassed.)  Oh,
that's right -- I wasn't actually saying any of it out loud.

(Joel looks at her a bit strangely.  Though generally easy-going, he
likes everything to be in its place, and can be prickly when faced
with disorder.  Since Helen's unexpected arrival, Joel's resentment
toward her has grown with every passing hour, and Helen can feel his
chilliness.  Even so, he is not immune to the sight of her slumped over
on the couch, the moonlight falling against her, looking like the
loneliest creature on earth.)

JOEL:  I'm on my way to the kitchen for some of the pink stuff.

HELEN:  I see. (smiles a bit awkwardly.)  Well I hope you feel better.

JOEL:  Thanks.  (raises a brow at the photograph.)  Hope you
and the picture have a nice time together.

HELEN:  What, this? (She looks at it, as though seeing it for the
first time.)  Oh I just picked it up off the mantle over there.  It's
nothing.  (smiles faintly.)  Actually, it's not "nothing."

(Joel walks over and sits down on an arm of the couch.)

JOEL: (glancing over, smiles)  Amy as a smoochy-poo baby.  I like
this one.

HELEN:  I'm surprised she'd display this.  (wry.)  It's as if she's
willing to be vulnerable.

JOEL:  She took it from one of the shelves of your mother's house,
when we came to visit a few months back.  Also a couple of photo
albums from when she was really young.

HELEN:  How come?

JOEL:  Just because.  No explanation.  (looks at the picture.)  Here
she looks like she could be five months, maybe...

HELEN:  Six months.  I took the picture.  (Joel raises a brow.)  I
was pretty young myself, so that's why it's a little out of focus.

JOEL:  You caught her at a good time, though.  She looks so happy.

HELEN:  She was.  (smiles with the warmth of someone about to
relive a pleasant experience.)  Every day when I came home from
school, she would crawl toward me with a big toothless smile and a
trail of drool down her chin.

JOEL: (smirks)  Was she a naughty kid?

HELEN:  Not really.  Not as much as you might think.  I did the
usual baby stuff with her: played Peek-a-boo, stole her nose,
taught her the names of every female head of state.  I loved her
so much.  (looks at Joel, her cheeks flushing.)  I'll confess,
both of my girls were beautiful babies, but neither of them was
as darling as Amy.  I don't know what it was. (looks back at the
photo.)  Yesterday, when she invited me to stay a little longer,
I wasn't sure I wanted to, until I saw this.

(Joel looks at the photograph again; something about it speaks to
him, as well as to Helen.  He catches Helen's eye, and Joel suddenly
finds her less of a pain in the ass.  He nods toward the door.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 3 (kitchen, a short time later)

(Joel stands in front of the refrigerator, shaking a bottle
of Pepto Bismol to see how much is left.  Helen sits at the table,
sipping tea and looking much improved.)

HELEN:  You used coasters at the *dinner table*??

JOEL:  When you don't have a mother around, you tend to overcompensate.
In high school I was voted "most likely to shampoo your rug."

(Helen chuckles.)

JOEL:  So yes, I'm a neat freak.  Could've been much worse, though.

HELEN:  Was it hard living with just your father?

JOEL:  Not really, since I never saw him much.  He was
a department store manager, so he worked long hours.  (faces Helen.)
Still, when Dad was around, he made it count by limiting my
life to school, music, and "pre-selected community-building activities."
A lot of gangs in my neighborhood could've claimed me, but they never did.

HELEN:  Good for you. (brow crease.)  But it doesn't sound very
appealing.

JOEL:  You'd have to meet my father.  He's really a loving
guy.  Now that he's retired, he and I spend more time just hanging out.
Amy likes him, so he must be worth something, right?

(He and Helen both chuckle at that.)

JOEL:  I think she wishes she could get to know her own father
as an adult.

(Helen's face goes solemn.  Joel remembers that he's talking
to Amy's sister, and looks at her apologetically.)

HELEN:  Oh no... (shakes her head.)  So it sounds as though you and
your father have been like Amy's family.  (smiles.)  Does that
mean you two are...

JOEL:  We are...?

HELEN:  That there won't be any more phone calls to my office?

(Joel looks at her blankly.  Then he gets an "Oh yeah!" expression,
remembering the conversation in "That Thing You Say.")

JOEL:  I thought you were going to ask if we planned to tie the knot.

HELEN:  I meant: are things all right between you two?

JOEL: (shrugs a little)  Better than they were.

HELEN:  Any thoughts of marriage?

JOEL:  I know I have... but we're still getting used to living
together.

HELEN:  But you moved in *months* ago.  *Not* that I'm trying to
dictate a time table, but --

JOEL: (raising a brow)  We've needed those months.  I just told
you what I'm like.  I lived alone for a long time before we started
dating.  Whatever Amy's said --

HELEN: (too quickly)  Nothing.  Nothing at all.

JOEL:  -- isn't completely off the mark.  I'm kind of an asshole.

HELEN:  Oh Joel, no.

JOEL:  No, it's true.  I'm impatient, moody, a neat freak, I drive
into hurricanes instead of asking for directions.

HELEN: (amused)  You make well-ordered lists.

JOEL:  I don't share my feelings when asked, but I make others
share theirs when they don't want to.  If that's not asshole
behavior, I don't know what is.

HELEN:  Or maybe you're just human.

JOEL:  You think?  Then again, Amy's not always perfect herself.

HELEN: (faint smile)  No, she's not.

JOEL:  We're both so used to telling people who disagree with
us to bugger off, it's hard when that person and you share a bed.
(sees Helen's expression.)  We still have a lot to learn.  I don't
want to deal with another divorce.

(At "divorce," Helen's face goes pensive for a few moments.)

HELEN:  You say you've thought of marriage. (cocks brow.)  Has Amy?

JOEL:  She's made murmurings in that direction.  At some
point she'll actually speak of it at normal volume.

(Helen groans softly.)

JOEL:  I think she would, if she weren't going through a
personal crisis.  (Helen looks at him.)  Which I take
it she never mentioned.

HELEN:  No.

JOEL:  Job dissatisfaction.  She puts a lot of herself into her
work, more than you'd think.  But even though she makes good money,
she no longer enjoys it.  If she ever did.

(Joel's expression suggests months of fatigue and anxiety that
his words barely hint at.  Helen frowns.)

JOEL:  She was going to attend this clinic that would help her explore
other options.

HELEN:  "Was"?  Are you saying she missed it?  Why on earth
would she do that?

(Joel looks at her.)

HELEN:  Because of me?  (closes her eyes.)  Oh Amy... she never
once mentioned it.

JOEL:  She didn't want to leave you alone.

HELEN: (brow crease)  But I'd have let her go if I'd known
how important it was to her.  (Her expression becomes pained.)
But after the awful things I said, who could blame her
for not wanting to tell me?

(Joel looks at her questioningly, wondering if she'll
elaborate.  Instead, Helen turns away and looks as though
she's deeply pondering.)

HELEN: (softly)  It's all my fault.  Everything's my fault.

JOEL:  Helen, don't be so hard on yourself.

HELEN:  No, it's true. (groans) Which makes it that much more
imperative that I set it right.

JOEL:  So what are you going to do?

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (Morgendorffer kitchen, morning)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria at the table,
cordless phone to her ear.  Quinn enters, looking tired and
crabby, and silently sits down on one of the counter stools.
Daria glances at her as she continues to listen to Helen on
the other end.)

DARIA: (into the phone)  Yes, Dad and Quinn are fine.
(Pause) Dad's still in bed.

JAKE: (suddenly, from out back)  AGHHHHH!  Work, you stupid
machine!

DARIA:  I mean destroying the lawn mower.  (Bt)  Yes, I know
where the tourniquets are.  (Bt)  See you soon.

(Seconds later, she clicks off the phone.)

DARIA: (to Quinn, with relief)  Mom said she'll be home this
afternoon.  Commence normal boring weekend.

QUINN: (distant, flips through an open newspaper nearby)  Great.

DARIA:  So Aunt Amy worked her magic.  (thought VO.)  In
spite of what she said.

QUINN:  Yeah.

DARIA:  Our parents might not be cozy, but at least they'll
share a zip code.

QUINN:  Yeah.

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  And soon aliens will invade our
planet and make candy wrapper hair extensions the new fashion "do."

(Quinn pushes aside the newspaper and sits up, looking angry.)

QUINN:  I *heard* you, Daria.  I was paying attention.

DARIA:  If that were true, you'd be ewwing about now.  Frankly
I'd've thought you of all people would be thrilled about Mom
and Dad.

(Quinn hops off of the stool.)

QUINN:  Since when do you know anything about me?!

(She walks briskly out of the room, leaving a puzzled Daria
to stare after her.)

DARIA: (to the empty room)  I'd better not tell her about
the two-way glass in her mirror.

(cut to:)

SCENE 5 (Amy's place, a little later)

(Shot of the outside.  Close-up on Amy, sitting up in bed,
Indian-style.  Her face is pensive and weary, and maybe a trifle
green, as though she's eaten the wrong thing.  She watches as Helen
rushes between her bedroom and the bathroom, dressed in her usual
business suit.)

HELEN:  I have to leave, Amy.  I have to face this, and I can't
do it here.

AMY:  You don't need to explain yourself, Helen.

HELEN:  And I'd stay for breakfast, but if I do I might wind up
making some silly excuse to avoid leaving, and there's no way
I can keep doing that!  Not when it's so unfair to Jake and the
girls, and for me to just *drive* away and not explain to Jake
what I've been feeling, I can't believe I've let it sit for so
long!  That's not me.  *This* is me.

(Helen's face, now done up in its usual fashion, takes on a hard,
determined expression.  Amy looks her over and leans back against
her pillows.)

HELEN:  I know that means I won't see your favorite spots, but
I promise you, honey, I do want to.  (face softens.)  I won't let
another twenty years go by before I see your home again.

AMY:  Since by then, it could be on the new Mars colony.

(She chuckles, as does Helen.  But Helen notices that something
is off about Amy's behavior.  She doesn't seem angry, but lacks
energy.)

HELEN:  I hope you're not upset.

AMY:  Upset to have my weekend back?  When I can finally make
that needlepoint class?

(This brings to mind the comment Joel made about the clinic.
Helen looks at Amy with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.)

HELEN:  I want to thank you and Joel for putting up with me.

AMY:  Think nothing of it.  I know you'd do the same.

HELEN:  Maybe so, but I haven't said "thank you" nearly enough
the past couple of days.  And the words I *have* said haven't been
all that kind.

AMY: (sardonic)  Really?

HELEN:  I shouldn't have blamed you for my problems.  (sighs.)
I was upset, I needed a scapegoat, but it wasn't your fault.

AMY: (softer)  Really...

HELEN:  I know you sacrificed a lot to keep me here.  (eyes Amy.)
Probably more than you're willing to admit.  I'm sorry to have
behaved so thoughtlessly.

AMY:  Helen... (Her cheeks flush, as though embarrassed by the
strong emotions she's feeling.  She looks at her sister and smiles.)
Apology accepted.  And for what it's worth, you weren't the burden
I thought you would be.  In fact...

HELEN:  Yes?

AMY:  I... never mind.  There were some things I wanted to ask.
Nothing important.

HELEN: (coaxing)  Come on, Amy: no secrets.  Remember?

AMY:  It's nothing that can't wait for e-mail.

HELEN:  All right, but don't be shy.

(She looks at Amy a moment longer before reaching over to give
her a hug.  We see Amy's face over Helen's shoulder, solemn
and thoughtful.)

HELEN: (pulling away)  I'll call you when I get home.

(She brushes a few stray hairs off of Amy's face, and moves
toward the door.)

AMY:  Helen, wait.  Don't go.

(Helen turns, sees Amy's serious expression.)

HELEN:  What's the matter?

AMY: (shaking her head)  Believe me, I want to let you go, but
something doesn't feel right.  I... just hear me out.

(Concerned, Helen comes back over and sits beside Amy on the bed.)

AMY:  A piece of our puzzle is missing.  Now maybe I'm overstepping
my boundaries and misreading things and what have you, but I have
to ask.

HELEN:  Ask what?

AMY:  Are you still in love with Jake?

HELEN: (after a slight pause, stunned)  Why Amy, what on earth
kind of question is that?

AMY:  A valid one.  (softer.)  Hey, if the answer's yes, then all
the pain and heartache you've suffered or have yet to suffer will
be worth it.

(Helen just looks at Amy.)

(fade-out.  fade-in to:)

SCENE 6 (Morgendorffer garage, that same time)

JAKE:  *Damn* it!  That's the second one I've busted in two
weeks!  Lousy cheap piece of tin - OW!  You bit me!  (He snaps
back his hand, revealing a cut on his finger, then puts it in
his mouth.)

DARIA:  Um... Father?

JAKE:  Thtoopid... (removes his hand.)  Dammit, you're ALL AGAINST ME!

(He starts kicking the lawn equipment viciously, causing it to
fall every which way.  Daria just stands there watching, until
Jake finally turns around.)

JAKE: (brightens immediately)  Oh.  Hey kiddo.

DARIA:  Not to interrupt your struggle for survival, but Mom called.
She's coming home from... (Suddenly she frowns, not remembering what
excuse she gave him.)

JAKE:  Helping your aunt replenish her wardrobe after her old one
was destroyed by that horrific moth invasion?  (shudders.)  Ewww.

DARIA:  Er... yes.  Yes, exactly.

JAKE:  Quinn told me.

DARIA:  Of course.  Though don't be surprised if Mom gives it a
different spin.

JAKE:  So she'll be home this afternoon, then.

DARIA:  Yep.  (tries to sound suggestive.)  I'm sure you two will
have a lot of catching up to do.

JAKE:  Yeah, great.

(Daria notes a subtle, yet definite lack of enthusiasm.  Her brow
creases with concern.)

DARIA:  If you need Quinn and me to spend the night elsewhere --

JAKE: (laughing)  Aw don't be silly, kiddo!

DARIA:  Silly... of course.  (awkward.)  Well now that I've told
you, I'll be on my merry way.

(She turns to leave.)

JAKE:  Daria?

DARIA: (turning)  Yes?

JAKE:  Um, so your mother has been at your aunt's this *whole* time?

DARIA:  According to the call tracer, she has.

JAKE: (uneasy)  Traced... calls.  That's... funny, kiddo!

DARIA:  I can hardly contain myself.

(Deadpan, Daria looks at him a bit longer, preparing to say more.
Finally she leaves.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 7 (Daria's room, shortly after)

(Daria sits at her computer desk, the cordless phone to her ear.)

DARIA:  I had my chance, and I blew it.

(Intercut between her and Jane, on the other end.  Jane is still
lying in bed, looking as though she's struggling to keep the
conversation straight.)

JANE:  So go find him and ask him again.

DARIA: (flustered)  I can't do it now, the moment has passed.
It would be too awkward.  But I have to ask him, I've put it
off for too long.  But it's none of my business.  Of *course*
it's my business...

JANE:  For *this*, you woke me up in the wee hours of late morning?

DARIA:  My mother's coming home, anyway.  I should wait until
they're in the same room.

JANE:  Because having them in the same room worked *so* well before.

DARIA: (glaring)  It will be different this time.  I know stuff now.

JANE:  So you'll finally say, "Hey Mom and Dad, Quinn and I have the
right to know what's going on, so you'd better spill the beans, or
we'll turn the car into a shelter for stray animals with really poor
bladder control."

DARIA:  Is Mystik Spiral sleeping over again?

JANE: (softer)  I know this has been hard for you, Daria.  But it's not
like you to be so timid when you're *this* close to uncovering the
bullshit.

DARIA:  Oh yeah??  Well maybe it's not *up* to me this time.
Why doesn't someone else do the dirty work for a change?

JANE:  Is a vacuum cleaner convention in town?  (As Daria rolls her
eyes, gently:)  Come on, what's the absolute worst that could happen?

(Beat)

DARIA:  My deepest, darkest fears will be confirmed.  My parents will
divorce, and I'll have to endure a parade of would-be lovers with names
like "Stu" and "Lurlene."

JANE:  Would there be cheap jewelry involved?

DARIA: (nods)  And implant scars.

JANE: I can imagine Quinn's reaction. (falsetto, imitation.)  "Ewww!
That necklace is turning your *chest* green!"

DARIA: (suddenly sulky)  Maybe.

JANE:  What's her take on all this?

DARIA:  I haven't spoken to her about it.  Or rather, she isn't speaking
to *me*.

JANE:  She's mad at you again?

DARIA:  No reason, again.

JANE:  No reason?  That can't be true.

DARIA:  Or one she'd rather not tell me.  One that makes sense only
after she's twisted it to suit her logic.  God I'm sick of this.

JANE:  Maybe you need a third party to squeeze it out of her.

DARIA:  I couldn't ask you to do that.

JANE:  Anything to help out.  Face it, amiga: no matter what
happens, you guys are gonna need each other.

DARIA: (dispirited)  Right.  (Pause)  Hey Jane?

JANE:  Yeah?

DARIA: (with difficulty)  It's not just that our lives could change
if my parents divorce.  I could adjust to them being in two different
places, since I'll be in college soon anyway.  It's just that they've
been together for so long, and they've got a ton of history.  I think
it would sort of hurt them if they had to give it all up.

(cut to: )

SCENE 8 (Amy's place, same time)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to close-up of Joel, his head tilted downward.)

JOEL: (irritated)  What do you mean she hasn't gone home??

(Wide shot reveals him on the living room couch -- lying on top of Amy.
Both of them are clothed, but that wasn't going to last for much longer.
Until Amy dropped the news, she and Joel were kissing with the ease and
insistence of people who knew that they were not being spied on.  Now
Joel has pulled away, frowning.)

JOEL:  Her car's gone.

AMY:  No... I just asked her to move it to the street.  You know
how those parking nazis get when you're in someone's spot longer
than twenty-four hours.

JOEL:  She's been gone a while.

AMY:  Yeah, well, maybe she decided to go on home anyway.
(reflective.)  Though after what we talked about, I doubt it.

(Joel sits up, the moment all but passed.)

JOEL:  She seemed so damned determined to go home, I thought she
might actually go through it.

AMY:  She would have, but I asked her to stay.  (Joel stares at her.
Amy looks back at him with a hard-eyed expression.)  Look, she'll
still be leaving today; it will just be later.

JOEL:  May I ask why?

AMY:  Why, what?

JOEL:  Why you kept her from leaving?

AMY:  I wanted to show her one of my favorite haunts.  It might be
months before she comes back.

JOEL: (doubtful)  That the only reason?

AMY:  No.  (trace of annoyance.)  Because as much as she thinks she's
got a handle on her problems, she doesn't.  She'd be making a
big mistake if she went home like nothing happened.

JOEL: (groaning)  But she *knows* she still has problems, *that's*
why she's leaving.  It's one thing for you to support her when she was
a basket case, but now she wants to do for herself.  So just let
her, already.

AMY:  Are you kidding?  A good hostess never leaves her guests to
fend for themselves.

(Her tone is light, but her eyes still glitter with "Don't question
me" rebellion.  Joel grits his teeth in a smile.)

JOEL:  For someone who hated getting blamed last night, you sure
seem eager for a second whipping.

AMY:  This time it's different.  This time I'm sure I can help.

JOEL:  How?  What exactly do you want her to do??

AMY: (after a slight pause)  What she really wants... for once.

JOEL:  And just how do you know so well what she wants?!

(Amy looks away, her boyfriend's tone of voice not lost
on her.  Then she looks back at him, takes his face gently in her
hands, and kisses him deeply on the lips.  When she pulls back,
she looks him in the eye.)

AMY:  Somehow, I just do.

(Joel returns her gaze, staring into the depths of her brown eyes.
He assesses the "trust me" tone of her warm, melting voice, before
leaning in closer.)



****************
END OF ACT ONE

[Shot of Evelyn Barksdale and co. in flashback, followed by shot of
Daria and Jake in the garage, followed by shot of Helen and Amy hugging,
followed by shot of Jane lying in bed, the phone to her ear.]

***You are now entering commercial *HELL*.  Please keep your seatbelt
securely fastened.  You are about to see some of the lamest commercials
put on television.***

1) "At an undetermined time, only at MTV's discretion: Daria finally
confronts Quinn's sinister math teacher, only to find he has an ace
up his sleeve.  And Quinn finally learns what Sandi has been up to
since she quit Student Council.  Next week... or the week after... or
when MTV decides to shave a half-hour off of a Road Rules marathon...
on an all-new 'Daria.'"

"Wait... you say that 'Daria' has moved to the Noggin Channel?  Well good
luck ever seeing it then.  Uh, I mean: subscribe to Noggin NOW!"

2) Heyloh... we need to find some way to make "Daria" palatable to the
general MTV audience, so we're squeezing in a video by a well-known
rock group.  Although it does not contain any footage or lyrics relating
to "Daria," we're sure the vapid MTV VJ's can make some tenuous connection...

3) Those public service commercials, where average-looking kids solemnly
confess: "I helped gun down a village in Bolivia." "I smuggled bombs and
weapons into public place."  Because these kids took drugs.  These
commercials want us to believe that drug-taking kids were responsible
for the sort of terrorism that brought down the World Trade Center towers.
When in fact they had nothing to do with it, and probably very little to do
with terrorism in South America.  If these public service commercials really
want to make a statement, they ought to show a middle-aged man fueling up
his SUV while proclaiming: "I help fund schools that breed religious
fanatics.  Hey, I just want to look cool when I drive."

***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?***


ACT TWO

SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer house, around noon)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Quinn lying on her bed, head
propped up with one hand, gazing down at her math text.  For once
she looks as though she can't focus.  Her eyes keep drifting away
from the page, until finally she slides off the bed and darts over
to the CD player to change the CD, which has been playing inoffensive
boy band pop.  Once she completes the task, she turns around to go
back... only to find Jane standing in her room.)

JANE:  Um, knocky, knocky.

QUINN:  Jane!  What are *you* doing in here?

JANE:  Wow, your room still looks like this?

QUINN: (now annoyed)  Shouldn't you, like, be sitting with Daria,
complaining about stuff?

JANE: (faux energized)  Not when I've got the chance to invite you
to join Daria on a fun-filled excursion downstairs!

QUINN:  To do what?

JANE:  Confront your dad.

QUINN: (frowning)  That's not fun.

JANE:  It would be if your dad were Ozzy Osbourne.  You could watch
him stumble around, mumbling nonsensical things and cursing at
inanimate objects.  (Wait -- that *is* Jake.)  On second thought...

QUINN: (suspicious)  Why are *you* here asking me instead of Daria?

JANE:  You know your sister.  Always on the run, too busy to handle
her own affairs.

(Quinn plops back down on the bed with her math book.)

QUINN:  She can confront Dad herself, then.

(Jane lets out a big groan.)

JANE:  C'mon Quinn, I just got through giving this lecture to Daria.
You can't afford to be mad at her: she's your only ally.  The one
person who knows exactly how you feel about this crappy parental
neglect thing.

QUINN:  What about you?  You seem to know how it feels.

JANE:  Only because the situation has made my childhood and young
adulthood flash before my eyes. (shudders.)  Be glad neither
of your parents is on a balloon trip over the Andes.

(Quinn smiles, albeit briefly.)

QUINN:  Sorry.  But there's still no point in me coming with her.

JANE:  Why not?

QUINN:  Because I already talked to my dad.

JANE: (surprised)  When?

QUINN:  This morning.  I was like, "Dad, enough is *enough*.  Are
you and Mom fighting?  Are you gonna get a divorce?"

JANE:  What'd he do?

QUINN:  Well first he kind of went all pale and laughed really
nervously and put his hand on his heart like he was about to have
another heart attack, and --

JANE:  Okay, okay: but did he *say* anything?

QUINN: (quieter)  He said it was up to Mom.  Then he had to check
the freezer to make sure the lasagna hadn't gone bad, and ran off.

JANE:  Yeesh.

QUINN:  Then okay, so I called Mom on her cell phone, right?
But it went right to her voicemail, so I called Aunt Amy's house and
her boyfriend answered.  So I talked to *him* a little and told him
what was going on, and he sounded kind of weird, I wouldn't say
*mad* or anything, but he told me Aunt Amy wanted to show Mom one
last thing before she left.  (frustrated.)  So Mom hasn't even
*started* home yet.

JANE: (overwhelmed)  Well I admire your footwork.  But don't you think
this is something you could've might've *should*'ve told Daria?

(Quinn's expression darkens into one of resentment.)

QUINN:  *Why* should I?  She didn't tell *me* Mom's real reason
for visiting Aunt Amy.

JANE:  Oh?

QUINN: (storming)  She thought I was too stupid, like I couldn't
handle the truth!  Well this time I wanted to know something
*she* didn't know, something really important.  (more solemn.)
I was gonna tell her eventually.

JANE:  First day at the retirement community?  (Quinn shoots a
look of defiance.)  Look, Daria doesn't think you're stupid; she
just has incredibly high standards that very few people meet.
So to her, you're not *uniquely* stupid --

QUINN: (angry/amused)  Ha, right.  I've only lived with
her since *birth*.  And I know when she thinks you're really
stupid, and I know she thinks *I* am.

JANE:  Quinn, you're --

QUINN:  And you want to know why??  'Cause she doesn't *want*
me to be smart.

JANE:  Oh *please*, Daria's been encouraging you since Day One.
First with the glasses, then with doing well in school, and --

QUINN:  I used to think that.

JANE:  What??

QUINN:  Like you, that she just wanted me to meet her standards.
So I've tried.  But the smarter I get at math, the less she
seems to like it.

JANE:  And how can you prove that?

QUINN:  When I was doing badly, she always used to say I wasn't
living up to my potential.  *Now* she says I'm only doing well
because my math teacher is a big creep.

JANE:  You think there's something to what she says?

QUINN:  NO!

(The vehemence of her outburst startles Jane, and even seems to
startle Quinn, who then looks embarrassed if only briefly.)

QUINN:  Okay, so he gives me some extra attention.  But I've come
most of the way myself!

JANE:  I believe you.  (puts up her hands in a jovial "back off"
manner.)  But devil's advocate: when's the last time you doled out
compliments to her?  Like, say, on her appearance?

QUINN:  But she hasn't changed her appearance.  She hasn't
changed *anything*!  It's all been me.

JANE:  Well no matter how much you think she's wronged you, it's
not gonna help if all you do is growl at her.  You've gotta be
honest, which means you've gotta face her.

QUINN: (resistant)  If I tell her, she'll just say something real
smart and clever to twist it around, so I look even stupider.  She's
good at that.  (squeezes her eyes shut.)  I'm tired of it.

(Jane looks at Quinn a moment, as if understanding exactly what
she feels.  She reaches over to pat Quinn on the shoulder, then thinks
better of it.)

JANE:  'Kay fine, we won't mention this conversation.  But for the
greater good, you think you could at least tell Daria what you know?

(Quinn pauses, looks from Jane to her book.)

JANE:  Okay, then.  *I* tell her.

(Quinn glares at Jane, stands up, and walks out of the room.
Jane follows.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 2 (that same time, near the coast)

HELEN:  I do love him, you know.

(Amy has been driving them along a two-lane highway, not far outside
her city.  She glances over at Helen beside her.)

AMY:  Yes, you've told me.

HELEN:  It's just... it's just it's complicated.

AMY:  I understand.

(They continue to ride in silence, the same silence that has been
between them for most of the trip.  Amy glances at Helen expectantly,
while Helen gazes out at the faintly visible coastline.  She then checks
her watch for the dozenth time, then her cell phone, which has been
accidentally shut off.  She clicks it on and sees that she has missed
a few calls, but there are no messages.  Helen gets an even more
distressed and restless expression.)

(Soon the road pulls away from the coast, and Amy drives into
the parking lot of a slightly rundown, yet otherwise bland strip mall.
Helen looks confused as her sister parks in front of a secondhand store.)

HELEN:  This is it??

AMY: (getting out)  This is it.

(Cut to the inside.  The shelves are packed with slightly dusty,
interesting artifacts, such as old board games, lamps, exercise
equipment, collectors' plates, etc.  Amy looks around appreciatively,
with a sense of familiarity that comes from frequent visits.  Helen, on
the other hand, reacts with distinct discomfort.)

AMY:  There's a real sense of ambiance, isn't there?

HELEN:  Um, sure... but I don't understand.  (a little cross.)  We came
*all* this way, just to visit a shop that's no different from any other
pawn shop.

AMY:  It's not just *any* shop.  This one has sentimental value.

HELEN:  You?  Sentimental?  Right.

AMY:  You don't think I can be sentimental?

(Helen pauses, as if remembering something.)

HELEN:  Actually, I do.

AMY: (pleased)  You see, I stumbled upon this place years ago, when
I broke down on my way home from college.  I was trying to pass time,
waiting for the mechanics to fix my engine... and suddenly it hit me.

HELEN:  What?

AMY:  I didn't want to be a chemist.  (off Helen's puzzled reaction.)
I majored in chemistry to please Mom and Dad, because I thought it made
me look distinguished.  I was good at it, but I didn't enjoy it.

HELEN:  So what happened?

AMY:  I switched majors... Mom and Dad said I was spoiled and lacked
direction, of course.  I headed down the path of liberal arts and
haven't looked back. (sighs a little, then smirks.)  It felt like
the right idea at the time.

HELEN:  So something here brought you to your epiphany?

AMY:  I'm not sure.  (looks around her, eyes filling with feeling.)
But since then, I've come back every so often.  It's where I decided
to call Joel after Mom's anniversary party.  There's something about it.

HELEN: (a little distant)  Yes.

(And whatever that something is, Helen doesn't like it.  She wishes
she knew why.  Then she turns to look at Amy, who is watching her with
a rare sparkle in her eyes.  Something about it touches Helen deep down,
and in spite of her misery, she smiles.)

HELEN:  Thank you for showing it to me.

AMY:  I thought you might like it as well.

HELEN:  How come?

AMY:  Because if you've lost something, there's a good chance you might
find it here.  (looks at her carefully.)  And it's also a good place to
lose and find yourself again.

HELEN: (confused, or pretends to be)  But I'm not looking for anything.

AMY:  You've always been looking for something, Helen.

HELEN: (surprised)  How do you know?

AMY:  I just do.  Blame it on that sixth sense I've got from
years of standing in the background observing.  (quietly matter
of fact.)  Ever since we were young, you didn't take on new
challenges just to be the best, did you?

HELEN:  I'm pretty sure I *did*.

AMY:  You may have thought you did, but through all that testing of
personal limits, you wanted to learn more about who you were.  Find
something that really fit you.

HELEN: (cocks a brow)  That's a pretty strong statement.

AMY: (smirks)  Says the woman who blamed me for ruining her life.

HELEN: (remembering)  But you told me yesterday that I'd always tried
to be something I *wasn't*.

AMY:  That's right: something more than you were at present.  It was
a compliment, Helen.

HELEN: (sarcastic)  Pardon *me* for not getting the obvious.  Have you
always felt this way?

AMY: (nodding)  But I didn't realize it until last night.

HELEN:  Why last night?

AMY: (placid)  It's amazing, isn't it?  How one experience can just trigger
a bunch of new feelings?   Remind you of things you once felt and at the
same time open you up to new possibilities?

(Helen listens, feeling both bewildered and strangely closer to her
sister than ever before.)

HELEN:  Yes.  (looks probingly at Amy.)  But are you sure it's not *you*
who's always been looking for something?  Like right now, perhaps?

AMY:  I'm just saying I think you're very close to getting what you
want, and you're probably afraid.  (intense look.)  *Don't* be, Helen.
You could be on the verge of something wonderful.  Don't turn away, or
you might never forgive yourself.

HELEN:  *Thank* you, Ann Landers, but I...

(Helen is about to tell Amy she's just fine, but something about
Amy's impassioned, sincere request causes the words to stick her throat.
It comes across almost like need, suggesting a deeper level of despair
than Joel had mentioned.  At the same time, Helen can't deny its power.
She finds herself smiling again and is about to speak, when it finally
hits her -- why the shop bothers her.  Like water through a busted dam,
fears that she has been holding back flood her consciousness.  Helen
squeezes her eyes shut.)

AMY:  What's wrong?

HELEN:  This place... all these useless things.  It reminds me of Jake's
junk sculpture.

AMY: (not understanding)  Really?

HELEN: (miserable)  Oh Amy, Jake's the one you should be talking to,
not me!  He's the one who's been trying to find himself after years
of being held back.

AMY:  Held back?

HELEN:  By *me*.  I've been holding him back.

AMY: (frowning)  How?

HELEN:  I don't know... but there's something I'm not doing.  (face
puckers.)  Because with the *proper* encouragement, he can do so
much.

(Amy watches her sister's distress and feels a barrier slide between
them again.)

HELEN:  You know he's been teaching night classes?  A friend of his
got him involved.  At first they just went bowling, but now he...
*classes*. It really seems to be doing him a lot of good.

AMY:  So what's the problem?

HELEN:  His *friend* encouraged him.  Not me.

AMY:  All rivers run to the ocean.

HELEN:  But I'm his *wife*!  If I can't influence him in the right
direction, what's the point of my being with him??

AMY:  What about when he encourages you?

HELEN: (not hearing)  He might have fulfilled his dreams *years* ago,
and wouldn't have spent all this time feeling so hurt and resentful.

AMY: (arched brow)  So his failings are your fault.

HELEN:  Before I kissed Greg, I saw Jake's sculpture, and it struck
me that Jake might deserve someone else.  Someone who... (Pause, as
Helen's face turns red and tears well up in her eyes.)  Someone who
could help him be... the kind of man he wants to be.

(Tears well up in her eyes, and she closes them to keep them from
spilling over.  Helen sinks down just as Amy reaches over to put a
hand on her shoulder, leaving Amy to stroke air.  She doubles over
and hugs her knees, crying noiselessly and tearlessly, as though she's
been seized by pains on the inside that would only get worse if she
let anything out.  Amy watches with concern, before crouching
down to put her arms around Helen's shoulders.)

(After several moments pass, Helen sniffles and wipes her eyes, and
looks about her as though trying to adjust to a new perspective.)

HELEN: (realizing)  That's what this is about, isn't it?  All
this misery I've been feeling: it's because I felt like Jake deserves
someone else.  (sniffles, smiles a little.)  Yes... that's it.

(She stands up shakily, with Amy's help.)

HELEN:  Now that I've actually *said* it, it really doesn't seem so bad.
(lawyer-like.)  I can work with this.  I can --

AMY: (carefully)  And Greg?

HELEN:  What about him?

AMY:  You kissed him, didn't you?

HELEN: (quietly acknowledging)  Of course I did.  But don't you see?
The only reason I did was because I felt so horrible about Jake.  It
was really more of a... an impulse.  A fluke.

AMY:  A fluke??

HELEN:  This changes everything, now.  (wipes her eyes.)  I *can* work
with this.  I'll tell Jake about my insecurities, and we'll talk
about it and maybe see someone.

AMY: (unrelenting)  But what about what you said last night? About how
Greg helped you "discover" yourself through sculpting and caused
you to have some spiritual awakening?

HELEN: (smiles a little)  I think that might have been the wine from
dinner talking.  I don't remember half of what I said.

(Amy just stares at her, dumbfounded.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (Morgendorffer house, that same time)

JAKE: (OS)  I don't know how it happened.

(Cut to shot of him, Daria, and Quinn sitting on the living room couches.)

JAKE: (crestfallen)  Everything was fine.  Well I mean your mother and
I were fighting, but we *always* fight, and we always make up in the end.

(His eyes take on a dreamy look, suggesting the way in which they made up.)

JAKE:  But then we had this one fight... it was the worst one we'd had, and
it was all my fault!

QUINN:  That one at Grandma Barksdale's party?

[*] See Helen and Jake's blow-up at the end of "None in the Family, Part One"

JAKE:  No.  (His face flushes, as he realizes he'll have to 'fess up about
more recent events.)  I accused her of having feelings for someone else.
She said she didn't, and I thought we made up.  But then she just... drifted
away.

(Quinn looks distressed.  Daria nods faintly, recalling what Jane said
about Greg.)

DARIA:  Drifted *where*?

JAKE:  I don't know.  She hasn't acted upset.  When I get home at night,
she's always there.  You haven't seen her go out in the evenings, have you?

(Daria and Quinn shake their heads.)

JAKE: (reflective)  Which is strange, because I would have *thought*...

(He catches himself again.  This time Daria notices.)

JAKE:  Maybe it's all in my head.  When I talk to her, she answers the same
way she always does. (face clouds.)  But she isn't the same.  I feel like
she looks at me... like she doesn't know who I am.

QUINN: (quiet)  She does that with us, too, Dad.

DARIA:  It's her general mood.  It's like she's depressed.

JAKE: (mopey)  Depressed...

DARIA:  Did you ever talk to her about it?

JAKE:  I *tried*, but she -- (He stops, then he shakes his head vigorously.)
No, no, I never tried.  I *should* have tried.  God *dammit*, why didn't
I ever try?!

(Daria and Quinn look at each other, concerned about his reaction.)

QUINN: (helpful)  You could still try.

JAKE: (shakes his head, in his own world)  And I thought "*Hey*, well
you cold-shoulder ME, I can do it *right* back!  HA!"  So *I* drifted
away and did my own thing even *more*.  And I started thinking about
what life would be like without her.  And then I --

(He stops abruptly, as if catching himself, then grips his head, anguished.)

JAKE:  Aw girls, I shouldn't be *telling* you this!!  You're too pure and
innocent for these kinds of details.

QUINN:  Hello, Dad?  Celebrity magazines.

DARIA:  Well you've told us.  There's nothing you can do about it now.

JAKE:  I just don't want you to feel the same resentment toward me that I've
got toward *my* old man!

DARIA:  Dad, we *asked* you to tell us.  Actually, forced you to.  We
can't hate you for doing what we asked.

QUINN: (solemn)  But you and Mom will make up eventually.  Right?

(A long, excruciating beat.)

JAKE:  I want to, honey.  I miss her.  (groans.)  But for some reason,
I keep feeling like even if we really *want* to make up, something
will stop us.

QUINN: (frightened)  But the point is you *want* to, right?

JAKE: (exploding)  I'm such an IDIOT!  How could I *say* those things
to her?!  I hurt her so much, and then I turn around and -- !

DARIA:  Dad.

QUINN:  Calm down!

JAKE: (hands over his eyes)  GOD, I'm so weak!  I'm such a jerk!  A
terrible mean-hearted jerk!  It's my fault!!

QUINN:  Da-aad!!

(Daria looks at Jake's face and sees a level of anguish almost out-of-
proportion to the situation.  She recalls the way he caught himself
earlier, and frowns with concern.)

QUINN: (terse)  Dad, look at me.  You *do* want to fix this, don't you??

JAKE: (moaning)  Sure I do!  But --

QUINN:  Then you can.  Remember what happened the last time?

JAKE:  The Guptys?  (cringes.)  Oh *God* no!  The house is a mess.

QUINN:  I *mean* when you got the courage to tell Mom how you felt, and
she didn't bite your head off, and then you kissed and kissed and kissed
until I was about ready to die.  Remember?

JAKE: (thoughtful)  Yeah...

DARIA:  Quinn, I think a few things are different this time.

(Quinn spins to face her, eyes narrowing.)

QUINN:  What's different??  Dad's in trouble and he needs help.  If you
won't help him *I* will.

(She turns to Jake, business-like.)

QUINN:  Now Dad, it sounds like you were Mr. Insensitive and a trifle
insecure, which always turns girls off.  You could buy Mom gifts, which
works for most women, but Mom has this weird thing against material
displays of affection.

(Jake nods slowly, a sliver of hope in his expression.)

QUINN:  So you should probably try to boost the sensitivity.

JAKE:  Sensitivity.  Check.

QUINN:  If you want, I can show you how.

DARIA:  That'll leave him in good hands.

QUINN:  First let me get something to write with...

(Ignoring Daria, she dashes off.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 5 (driving, early afternoon)

(Amy and Helen are on the return journey to Amy's apartment.  Unlike
last time, Helen keeps the silence at bay with lively, effusive
chatter that makes her sound more like her "old" self than she has
for quite some time.)

HELEN: (relieved) ... This has been such an incredible load off of
my mind, you don't even know.  All this time, I was *so* afraid the kiss
meant something more than it did, when it didn't!

(Amy tries to smile at her sister's happy tone.  Instead, her cheeks
flush with embarrassment.  Unused to being as vulnerable as she was
in the shop, Amy now feels quite stupid for the things she said and
the assumptions she made.  She tries to recall what Helen said the night
before that led her to think Helen wanted something else.)

HELEN:  All that guilt, all that fear about what could happen.  But no
matter: it's all *much* simpler now.  I really think things will be
all right, I really do.

AMY:  Good.  That's good.

HELEN: (brow furrows)  But you know, this isn't the first time I've
gotten carried away by irrational fears.  I used to have these fits of
anxiety that made me *completely* shut down.

(Amy looks at her questioningly.)

HELEN:  And it was always for the same reason: concern about a loved
one, causing me to either withdraw from human contact or seek comfort
in another human being.  *That's* all the kiss was, same with my running
to visit you.

AMY:  That makes sense.

HELEN:  I can't wait to go home, now.

(Helen finally comes down from her high enough to notice Amy's taciturnity.
She feels such a sense of gratitude, even she can't find words to express
it, and she wants Amy to feel as happy as she does.)

HELEN: (warm)  Well what about you?  Do you feel better after visiting
one of your favorite haunts?

AMY: (unconvincing)  Oh... certainly.

HELEN:  Are you sure?  You said some pretty intense things to me in
the shop.

AMY:  That was for your benefit.

HELEN: (more direct, gentle)  Is there anything you'd like to talk about?

(Amy considers.  But already, the moment between them feels so far in
the past, she doesn't have the will to try and rekindle it.  Instead,
she struggles to bring her hopes back down to earth.)

AMY: (faint smile)  And ruin your hour of triumph?

HELEN:  Amy...

AMY:  I'd rather listen to you.  What's this about anxiety attacks?

(Helen glances at her, somewhat disappointed that she doesn't want to
talk, but decides that the best thing is to lead by example.)

HELEN: (smiling)  I'm surprised you don't know, given that you
seemed so certain of how I felt when I was younger.

AMY:  What?

HELEN:  But then, most of these attacks seemed to happen when
you were either very young or not yet born.  (cocks a brow.)  I wasn't
*always* the questing, challenge-seeking person you claim I was.

AMY:  So what were you?

(Pause)

HELEN:  Scared.  A lot.  As a child, of course, you have much less
control over your life.  And I was a wayward, willful child, always
getting yelled at.

AMY: (cocks a brow)  By Mom?

HELEN:  By everyone.  Back when we were doing a lot of moving and
things were so stressful.  I'd get so worried people would think I
was "bad" and stop loving me that I'd just go mute.  It seemed easier,
somehow.

AMY: (sympathetic)  I'm sure Mom and Dad were a positive influence.

HELEN: (resigned)  Well yes, Mom was Mom.  Rita was her favorite
and nothing would change that.  But in some ways Dad was worse.

AMY: (knowing)  Of course.

HELEN:  Because I knew he loved me best. (impassioned, drawn into the
memory.)  When he got angry, I knew that meant I'd done something just
awful, and I would get so scared it would happen again.  I didn't want
to lose his love -- I *couldn't*.  Without him, I felt like I had no one.

AMY: (feeling the bond again)  Helen...

HELEN:  Ironically, my worst attack had nothing to do with what
I'd done. (laughs a little.)  How strange, I was just remembering this
last night!  It was when Dad started talking about wanting a boy.

AMY:  He tortured you, too?

HELEN: (bitter)  Oh yes.  He talked about it so damned much, I prayed
in my room every night that it wouldn't happen.  (fiercely.) I wasn't
about to be the odd man out.

AMY:  Right.

HELEN:  I started to lose weight and couldn't sleep.  Mom and Dad wound
up putting me in the hospital for a short time.

AMY:  For how long??

HELEN:  About a week.  (assuring.)  Anyway, it was before you were born,
and obviously I've lived to tell about it.

AMY:  What was the magic cure-all?

HELEN:  I just came to my senses.  And afterward, the thought never again
crossed my mind.

AMY:  That's a relief.

HELEN:  Then of course I grew up, grew independent, and found ways to
exercise control over my life. (reflective.)  It's funny: this is the first
time I've ever had this problem as an adult.  Especially since I married.

(Amy doesn't hear her.  She's musing about something.)

HELEN: (pensive)  When I've ever felt so completely unsure of my course of
action that I couldn't handle it.

(She turns to Amy, who responds after a beat.)

AMY:  Helen?  How soon did that attack happen before I was born?

HELEN:  Oh, not too soon.

AMY: (cocks a brow)  Within nine months?

(Something about Amy's tone makes Helen look at her strangely.)

HELEN:  Within a month or two of your birth, actually.  After you
arrived a girl, our parents decided not to have any more children,
and all of Dad's talk... sort of went away.

(Amy absorbs this in silence, the color draining from her cheeks.
She focuses straight ahead on the road, but it's soon clear that her
mind is not on driving, as she almost forgets to brake at a stop sign.)

HELEN:  Amy, watch it!  (amused.)  True, it's not the most selfless wish
a little girl could make, but it's not as if any harm was done. (long
Pause)  Amy?

(cut to: )

SCENE 6 (Morgendorffer house, a short time later.)

(Shot of the outside.)

JANE: (VO)  So good, you see?

(Cut to shot of her and Daria sitting in Daria's room.)

JANE:  You took the problem by the horns and now your dad's downstairs
trying to think up ways to win your mom back.

DARIA:  Oh yes, his enthusiasm was palpable.

JANE:  So why the gloomier than usual tone?

DARIA:  Damned if I know.  Dad really does seem to want Mom back.

(Cut to shot of Quinn and Jake still on the living room couches.  Quinn
has a notepad and is writing things down.  Jake fidgets with anxiety.)

JAKE:  So what's on the paper??  What??  Something that will help
me?  Fix me??  What?!

QUINN:  *Patience*, Father.  (finishes writing, rests her pen on the
tablet.)  Okay, based on what you've said about your fight with Mom,
how you feel you haven't listened to her, I've made up a short pop
quiz covering the basics.

JAKE: (pales)  P-pop... *quiz*?  But I didn't study!

QUINN:  Dad, that's the *point*.  We'll know the severeness of your
problem based on how many questions you can answer, and go from there.

JAKE:  And that helps??  Has it helped anyone else?

QUINN:  Oh, lots of people!  (thinks.)  Well, no one I actually *know*,
but lots of models in Waif swear that it's kept their relationships
afloat for an extra six months.

JAKE:  Six months?!

QUINN:  Question One: What's Mom's middle name?

JAKE:  Oh God, I *know* I know this one!  It's... (frowns, wilts.)
K-something, right?

(Quinn looks down at the pad, then at Jake, disappointed.)

QUINN:  Dad, it's *Anne*.  The only K in her name is in Barksdale.

JAKE:  Gah, I *knew* I'd get that one wrong!  Give me another one,
please??  I'll do better!

QUINN:  Okay, that was just for warm-up.  Question Two:  How *old* is
Mom?

(Jake looks at Quinn with a "You've got to be kidding, right?")

JAKE:  Oh come on sweetie, we were in *college* together.  I'm not
*that* dense!  She's... (Pause)  thirty-eight.

QUINN: (disappointed)  *Dad*, that's not even...

(She then sees Jake wearing a suave grin and realizes that is the age
Helen *wants* to project.)

QUINN:  Very *good*, Dad!

(Cut to shot of Daria and Jane in Daria's room, as before.)

DARIA:  Something just feels off.  Quinn treats this like it's
the second seminar of the Gupty Empowerment Program.  Get Dad in touch
with his touchy-feely side, and all will be peachy.  I don't buy it.

JANE:  So you're questioning Quinn's wisdom?

DARIA:  Don't I always?  (relenting.)  Believe me, I want it to work.
The "something" that is off is giving me a sick feeling inside.

JANE:  Why assume Quinn doesn't know what she's doing?  This relationship
stuff is her thing.

DARIA:  Dating is her thing.  Relationships require a level of maturity
that's beyond her.

JANE: (scorn creeping in)  Don't be so picky.  At least she's trying.

DARIA:  Who says I'm being picky?

JANE:  She *was* the one who first confronted your dad, you know.

DARIA: (cocking a brow)  Yes, I know.  I don't need you to be her
skywriter.

JANE:  Sorry, it's just that she said some pretty strong stuff when
I talked to her earlier.  Like that you make fun of her because
you don't want her to be as smart as you.

(Daria rolls her eyes, unsurprised by this statement.)

DARIA:  So we're discussing Quinn now?  As opposed to the very
pressing problem at hand?

JANE: (shrugs)  It'll be good for a breather.  Besides, I'm kind of
curious to know your thoughts.

DARIA:  My thoughts are that she's got it all wrong.

JANE:  So you don't think she's cheating in math?

DARIA:  I don't think *she* thinks she is.

JANE:  But do you?

DARIA: (after a pause)  No.  I don't.

JANE: (surprised)  Really??  Even with your suspicions of You Know Who?

(Daria's brow furrows, as though she's been giving this a lot of thought.)

DARIA:  Those suspicions don't touch Quinn.  Whatever she's earned...
she's done it on her own.

JANE:  You should tell her that.  Talk about a blow torch to the chill
between you two.

DARIA: (irritated)  Given that I never called her a cheater in the
*first* place, I shouldn't have to.

JANE:  Does that mean also you wouldn't be upset if she got really high
grades?

DARIA:  I would lead the Brain Pride Parade.

JANE:  And if everyone started saying "Hey Quinn, you're just like your
sister.  You'll have the same success, the same privileges.  You might
even go to the same college and--"

DARIA:  That wouldn't happen.

JANE:  Why not?

DARIA: (frowning a little while remaining even-toned)  Because she hasn't
been a brain for that long, and only in one area.  People don't catch
up that fast.

JANE:  Yeah, but remember how quickly everyone embraced her for that
"Academic Imprisonment" essay?  And that wasn't even good.

DARIA:  She couldn't have kept it up, even if I hadn't stopped it.  That
would require work and effort, which she may be learning, but still has
a long way to go.  She can't just take a short cut and expect everyone to
love her for it.

(Right there, Daria realizes that she has at least partially confirmed
Quinn's suspicion.  She rolls her eyes.)

DARIA: I am *very* happy that my sister is taking her course work seriously.
But if she expects me to embrace her as my equal, pretend away the years
she spent wiggling out of the tough assignments and mocking me for being
a brain, she's got another thing coming.

JANE:  So you just want her to pay her dues.  It's not about whether she's
as smart as you.

DARIA:  Who knows if she's as smart as me??  If *I* spent as much time
on one subject as she does, maybe they would call *me* maestro.
It's excelling in *all* areas that shows what you're made of.

JANE:  That sounds sensible.  (fingers her artist clothes.)  Though what
does that say about me?

DARIA:  You're different.  At least you spent years developing your art.

JANE:  So?

DARIA:  You didn't just plunge in to a subject because your teacher made
you, win a few tournaments, and expect to silence your critics.

JANE:  So only if Quinn slogs away at math for thirty years and winds up
some savvy business tycoon, you'll begin to respect her?  Or is even that
not enough?

DARIA:  Why are you taking *her* side?

JANE: (sighing)  I'm *not*.  But I do sort of feel for her.  She really,
*really* wants your approval, I can tell.  And it's one thing to feel the
sting of Daria Morgendorffer's scorn when you're an outsider, but to get
it every day in your own home.

DARIA: (scowl)  Could we talk about crumbling marriages again?  It was more
reassuring.

JANE:  I have to confess, your scorn for her is pretty visible.

DARIA:  Like *her* scorn for me.

JANE:  Be honest: is it just because you feel she doesn't deserve it?
Or is part of you reluctant to share your identity?

DARIA:  Scorn.  Quinn.  For me.  Have you been listening?  Why should I
coddle her when she's never put herself out in the same way??

JANE: (soft)  Okay, I'll go with the first one.

DARIA:  If you think that means Quinn and I can't work together on this
parental crisis, you're wrong.

JANE:  No, I don't think that.  But it definitely won't make things
easier.

DARIA:  She'll get over it.  She has before.

JANE:  Yeah.  (shrugs.)  And then she'll get mad again.

DARIA:  Which is her choice.

JANE:  But always about the same subject.  Looks to me like this smartness
thing is a real sticking point between you two.

DARIA:  And how is it any different from our *other* sharp objects?

JANE: (shrugs)  Maybe because right now, in spite of the past resentments
you've had, you don't *need* Quinn's approval.  But she seems to need you to
tell her she's smart.  Which means until you can shave down the sticking
pointy thing, you guys won't resolve your differences.

(Daria cocks an eyelid, considering that fact.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 7 (neighborhood near Amy's residence)

AMY:  Goodbye, Helen.

(Her voice is cold and tight.  Helen looks at her imploringly.)

HELEN:  Come on, Amy, not even a hug?  We shouldn't end things this
way -- again.

(They stand out on the curb, besides Helen's parked SUV and Amy's double-
parked convertible.  Their demeanors tell us that the rest of the trip home
was silent and uncomfortable.)

AMY:  I have to go inside.

HELEN:  I don't get you.  Things were going so well, and I don't want us
to part in anger.  Please tell me what happened.

(Amy considers, but even she can't find a logical explanation -- whether
this rage that came on so suddenly has a connection to her present issues,
or whether it's free-floating childhood resentment best left to wither
away on its own.  Finally Amy leans forward to give her sister a hug that
exudes more chill than warmth.)

AMY:  Just go home, Helen.

HELEN: (disappointed)  Fine.  I can't understand if you won't let me.
(She whips out her purse and removes a few large bills, which she
then stuffs into Amy's hand.)  Here, this should cover my expenses.

(She fumbles around in search of her car keys, while Amy looks at the money
expressionlessly.)

HELEN: (muttering)  Just like your clinic, if you don't *tell* me I can't --

AMY: (overhearing)  What??

HELEN: (facing her)  Your clinic.  I would have let you go yesterday if
I had known about it.

(Amy looks dumbfounded, before putting two and two together.)

AMY:  But instead Joel told you.

HELEN:  I'm glad *someone* did.  Though he didn't know you hadn't said
anything.  When we were chatting late last night --

AMY: (faint disgust)  About me, behind my back?  What a surprise.

HELEN: (rising anger)  How else can I learn anything about you?!  Sure, I
open up about *my* deepest, darkest thoughts, but you only tell me what
you think I should know, when you think I should know it.  I'm sick of
this double standard.

(She finds the key and points it toward the lock, but Amy restrains her,
a surge of righteous anger loosening her tongue.)

AMY:  You call that whining you've been doing "opening up"??  You don't
have a clue what that means.

HELEN: (hard)   Oh?  So enlighten me.

AMY:  It means being *honest* about what you want.  But you, dear Helen,
never think of what you *really* want -- only how you're affected by
other people.  How it's for Jake's own good, or that it could harm the
girls, or it's because of something *I* did to you.

HELEN:  Yes, how *dare* I think of others besides myself!

AMY:  Which means, when you do something like run to me in blind
panic at midnight, you don't have *any* idea why you did.

HELEN:  So what's *your* take??

AMY:  That *Helen* realized she's sick of her life and wants to change
it, but is scared of the consequences.

HELEN:  That's what you think?

AMY:  It's what I thought.  (challenging.)  Is it really so hard to admit??

(For a moment, Helen is thrown, as she considers possibilities she had
wanted to keep at bay.  Then her expression hardens.)

HELEN:  Not if that's what I actually felt.  Why did you ever believe
that??

AMY:  Just...  (righteous anger quickly dissolves.)  Never mind.

(Helen looks at Amy dumbfoundedly for a moment, before pieces of a
puzzle start sliding into place.)

HELEN:  It's what you *wanted* me to feel... isn't it?  (off Amy's
flushed, embarrassed reaction.)  Yes, it makes sense now.  The
way you kept *insisting* that I'm in search of something, how you
kept bringing up Greg and the kiss, and why you took me to... "lose
and find" myself...

(Dazedly, Helen stares at Amy.)

HELEN:  You wanted me to leave my husband.

AMY: I just wanted you to --

HELEN:  You took me to that place to convince me to leave.  (Before
Amy can speak:)  Why would you do something like that?  (enraged.)
Have you *any* idea what you were doing?!

AMY:  Just let me explain, Helen.

HELEN: (wounded)  Amy, I *trusted* you!  I thought we were there to
share something.  You've never deliberately misled me before.

AMY:  I wasn't trying to hurt you.

HELEN:  Then what *were* you trying to do?!

AMY: (defensive)  Until last night, I just wanted you to feel good
enough to go *home*.  Then you talked about how bored you were, and
how your sculpting teacher helped you reach some spiritual epiphany,
and God help me, I thought maybe returning to the status quo wasn't
best for you, after all.

HELEN: (sarcastic)  *You* thought.

AMY: (eyes narrow)  Only that it was what *you* were saying.
Can you honestly tell me, Helen, that a part of you doesn't want a
fresh start?  That you felt *nothing* when you kissed that man??

(Her lawyer face on, Helen looks Amy in the eye.)

HELEN:  I felt nothing.

(Amy gets a frowning, angry expression.)

AMY:  You're lying.

HELEN:  Dammit Amy, why do you keep acting like you have some personal
stake in this?!

AMY:  Because when people gate-crash my weekend, I like them to leave
with smiles on their faces and a song in their hearts.

(Helen's angry, wounded look returns, and she sticks her key in the lock.)

AMY: (blurts out)  Because I used to worship you, you know.  It's painful
to see what you've become.

(This dampens Helen's rage for the moment.  Slowly, she removes the key.)

HELEN:  You worshipped me?

AMY:  Are you surprised?  Given what I said at the shop?

HELEN:  No.  (shakes her head.)  I mean yes.  I had no idea.

AMY:  It wasn't obvious: you had to comb through layers of snark to find
my true feelings.  (softly bemused.)  The fact that you even deigned to
love shy little me thrilled me beyond reason.

(Helen looks at her, not knowing what to say.  Then her face gets a look
of recognition.)

HELEN: (soft, reflective) I remember... (pointed look.) So what made you stop?

AMY:  Somewhere along the line you dropped the ball.

HELEN: (sarcastic)  What, I showed I was a human being?

AMY:  I mean your vision narrowed.  (closes her eyes.)  You were so dynamic
and excited about everything.  You had so much intelligence and hope and
you just... (scowls, searches for words, settles for) dropped the damn ball.

HELEN:  I settled down.

AMY:  It was before you married.

HELEN:  Why didn't you ever say anything??  (eyes narrow.)  Why tell me
now?  Wouldn't it have been more helpful, oh, *then*?

AMY:  I didn't think I could do anything.  I didn't think it was my place.

HELEN:  You've had plenty of chances over the years.

AMY: (dark expression)  Before long, it was too late.  We'd grown too
far apart.

(Helen is about to protest, but she realizes the truth of that statement.)

AMY:  It wasn't until we started getting together this past year that
I even felt some of the old feelings.

HELEN: (filling in the blanks)  Then you saw old photos at Mother's house
that *really* reminded you.

(Amy nods, looking stunned that Helen knew.)

AMY:  I just thought they'd be nice to have around.  To remember.  Even
the ones where I was too *young* to remember, but that you had taken.
It wasn't until you talked about spirituality last night, that I saw a
glimmer of the "old" you.

HELEN: (softly)  So a part of you has been waiting for me to have a
personal crisis?

AMY:  Not a crisis -- just for you to fulfill your potential.  Open up,
get excited, shine that big ol' beam of light on the rest of us poor
miserable saps.  Make me feel... (doesn't finish.)

(Helen is tired and at a momentary loss for words.  What Amy said in the
shop connects perfectly with what she is saying now.  Then something else
occurs to Helen.)

HELEN:  You've been hoping for more than just a bonding moment, haven't
you?

(Pause.  Then Amy nods, resigned.)

AMY:  Like you, I've been in a rut.  I don't know whether it's something
new, or just a deepening of the rut I've always been in.

(Helen raises a brow, faint concern intermixing with her lingering
anger.)

AMY:  Joel suggested I go to some damn aptitude clinic, like that would
solve everything.

HELEN:  I'm sure he just wanted to help.

AMY:  I'm sure he did, too.  It's just... (shakes her head.)  When I first
heard  about your problems, it felt good to get some perspective.  And
then, when you brought up spirituality...

(Beat)

HELEN: (finishing)  You wanted to find it, too.

(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Joel, back up in the apartment.  He's just
emerged from the bedroom, his hair rumpled as though he's been tossing
and turning some more in bed.  His dazed expression and his bloodshot
eyes tell us he has not slept.  In one hand he holds the cordless
phone.  He looks at it as though he forgot it was there, and his
expression darkens.  He moves to go back into the room and put it
on the cradle, when he spies the guest room ajar.)

(Cut to shot of Joel peaking in the guest room.  From his perspective,
it is a godawful mess, except for the bed, which Helen made.  Every
corner is stuffed with odds and ends that have not been put up or
thrown out.  Joel's eyes narrow, and he moves with determined strides
as though bent on making it his Sunday project to clean everything up.
Putting the phone under one arm, he grabs an old lamp, a bar bell,
an old radio, and the handcuffs, which he stares at for a beat.  He
tries to push the exercise bike out of the way of more junk, when he
loses his grip and everything comes crashing down.  Angry, Joel bangs
his fist against the wall.)

(Resume shot of Amy and Helen.  Helen is now leaning against the side
of her SUV, feeling emotionally burnt-out.)

AMY: (quiet)  I'm not a religious person... but I do know that there's
something inside me that I'm missing.  (tilts her face away as it briefly
shows the anguish that she's feeling.)  I'm sorry if I came on a little
strong earlier.

HELEN:  I'm not sure I'd know what to tell you anyway.

AMY:  I was more hoping you would *show* me.

HELEN:  At the very worst, it seems you might need to see a doctor.

AMY:  A doctor?? (scowling.)  I'm not sick and I am *not* depressed.

HELEN:  I'm not saying you are, but talking to someone always --

AMY: (curt)  Forget it, Helen.

HELEN: (surprised)  *Amy*.

AMY:  I don't need any outside treatment!

HELEN: (flaring up)  Oh, but you're *fine* with living vicariously through
your sister, are you?!

AMY: (startled)  That's not what I've been doing.

HELEN:  What *else*, then??  Pushing me in certain directions, hoping to
learn from the results.  All because you think that like some science
class nerd, I've got all the answers, and you can just copy.  Because
you're too stubborn or too scared to find your own inspiration.

(Amy's cheeks redden at Helen's words.)

HELEN:  That's great for *you* -- but what about my family??

AMY:  Your family?

HELEN:  Did you even *think* about this could hurt Daria and Quinn?
Your nieces who love and admire you??

AMY: (flustered)  I would never hurt them.  I wasn't even thinking
about them when I --

HELEN:  Suggested I run off with my sculpting instructor?!

AMY:  *I* never suggested that.  You did.

HELEN:  No I didn't!

AMY: (eyes flashing)  I said to *consider* what that kiss really meant
to you, and to not turn your back on any spiritual growth.  You said I
wanted you to run off.  *You* suggested it.

HELEN:  But I *know* you --

AMY:  Don't you get it now, Helen, why you need to know what you
really want??  If this is some repressed desire to be with Greg talking,
you'd better admit it *soon* so you can spare your family a lot of pain.
Because no matter what --

HELEN:  Go to hell.

(Helen regrets these words as soon as she says them, but is too angry to
take them back.  She unlocks her car door and opens it.  For Amy, the
words cause something inside her to snap.  Her face turns a vivid
shade of red, as the murky rage she felt earlier takes on startling
clarity.)

AMY:  Fine, I will.  And you can just pretend that everything will go
back to normal.  Bend your home life to your will, paying lip service
to your loved ones' needs while not caring how you harm them, which
you're so good at.

HELEN:  Don't you dare say another word about them.  Whether or not you
told me to be with Greg, what you suggested was *more* than enough to
threaten my home life.

AMY: (dark)  I think *you're* enough to threaten your home life.

(Helen opens her mouth to speak, but Amy cuts her off.)

AMY:  I can't believe I didn't see it sooner.  That I thought your good
qualities were so much stronger than your bad ones.  Before you even
mentioned Dad, I should have seen --

HELEN:  What does he have to do with this?! (recalls the conversation in
the car.)  *Oh* if you mean that stupid bit about me wishing you'd be
a girl --

AMY:  I suffered for years.  You don't even know!  To Dad, I was
just this *mistake*.  I felt so worthless.

HELEN: (unmoved)  Oh you poor baby, well guess what?!  It wasn't my
fault you were born a girl.

AMY:  But you had to have known what would happen.  The huge letdown,
the bitterness he felt... you had to have known, at least a little.

HELEN: (flash of guilt)  I was a *child*.  (more conviction.)  And one
little wish still doesn't compare with what *you* suggest--

AMY:  All you cared about was that it wasn't you.  (disbelief.)  I
loved you so much, and that whole time... (Her words die out and she
squeezes her eyes shut.)

HELEN: (more sober)  I never wanted you to suffer.

AMY:  To this day, Helen, it's stayed with me.  Everything I've been
feeling lately... (anguished.) and you were *happy*.

HELEN:  Amy, I loved you!  For God's sake, you built me up so much --
of course I was bound to fail you somehow.  (A look of regret crosses
her face.)  But your problems are *not* my fault and don't you dare
say they are!

AMY:  Oh no, won't try to out-do you in *that* department. (eyes
narrow.)  You were a selfish kid, and you are a sad adult.

HELEN:  And what about *you*?  Beauty, brains, Princeton education, loving
boyfriend, and you can't even lift yourself out of a simple malaise??

AMY: (on her own track)  Even the purpose of this visit wasn't to be with
me.  It was selfish and convenient -- like all your other attempts to
communicate this past year.

HELEN:  As if you've tried any harder!

AMY:   You would do anything to not look inside yourself and see that
there's something ugly.

HELEN:  And *you*, Amy Barksdale, are so convinced you're the martyr --
  well I don't buy it!  Martyrs are victims, and whether you like it or
not, you *have* some control over your life.

(Having said her piece, Amy stands there red-cheeked and a little
nauseous from the gush of emotion.)

HELEN:  Other people have suffered besides you.  Your *boyfriend* had a
rough childhood, but he made something of himself!

(Hearing this, Amy's eyes narrow.)

HELEN:  But no, all your gifts and you choose to do nothing.  Except
build vain little fantasies about being rescued.  *You're* the one
who's dropped the ball, Amy!

(Amy now turns her face to the side, absorbing Helen's words.)

HELEN:  And just when I feel ashamed of calling you a bad role model
for my girls, it's times like this I know exactly why I did!

AMY:  ENOUGH!

(Her last word rises up in a very un-Amy like wail, causing Helen to
draw back and look at her with a shocked gaze, realizing that she's
gone one step too far.  Anxiety and remorse wash over her.  Amy's
face is now completely red and she is shaking imperceptibly.  Helen
looks at her, sees the pain she's caused, and knows that this could
damage their relationship for good.  Yet she feels as though she
doesn't know how to take back the things she said, or if she even
wants to.  After a long beat, Helen turns and climbs up into the
driver's seat of her car.  Amy stands there, seemingly lost in her
thoughts.  Before Helen shuts the door:)

AMY: (softly)  If you go home, you'll just wreck everything.  You're a
selfish person at heart, Helen.  You'll twist everything so that it goes
your way, whether you mean to or not.

(Helen frowns darkly, then looks at her sister for one last beat before
shutting the car door.)



****************
END OF ACT TWO

[Shot of Jane talking to Quinn, followed by shot of Helen and Amy
driving along the coast, followed by shot of Daria, Quinn, and
Jake in the living room, followed by shot of Joel losing his
balance and dropping junk in the guest room.]

***You are now entering commercial *HELL*.  Please keep your seatbelt
securely fastened.  You are about to see some of the lamest commercials
put on television.***

1) Some men aren't made for 49 cent Tuesdays.  Try the *six dollar*
burger??  Rarely have I seen such a blatant attempt to screw people
out of money as this ad from Carl's Jr. or Jack in the Box (can't
remember which, and really, does it matter?).  Sad part is, it will
probably work.  But goodness: no women aren't made for 49 cent Tuesdays?
Equal opportunity screwing, Carl's in the Box!

2) The ALF phone commercials.  ALF... NOOOOO!!  Childhood... nightmares...
returning!

3) And finally, in honor of "Daria's" new home, Noggin: the "Daria"
clips they use to advertise the show's return to T.V. in July.  Overall,
it's great to see Our Heroine again, and her quips are funny.  In one she
says: "Really, does the world need another zany dad on television?" Cue
a Jake ranting clip from "The Lawndale File."  Daria: "Apparently so."
She also has quips for Helen, Quinn, and Kevin and Brittany.  There's
also a separate clip from "See Jane Run," with Jane, Daria, and Ms. Morris.
My problem is that these promos are shown so frequently (YEAH!), and
they're always the *same*.  It would help if they mixed it up with
different clips from the show, so people wouldn't get tired of them.

And Noggin: "Daria" fans are grateful that you gave our favorite show a
second lease on life.  But that doesn't mean we'll stand by clapping if
you butcher parts of the episodes.  In other words: if you bleep out the
word "ass," I'm gonna get medieval on YOUR ass!!!

***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?***


ACT THREE

SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer residence, mid-afternoon)

(Shot of the outside.)

DARIA: (OS)  All right, perhaps I *have* been too negative.

(Cut to shot of her and Jane in her room, where they have been for
the past hour, since Daria and Quinn spoke to Jake.)

JANE:  Really?  I was blinded by the perkiness.

DARIA:  So it's not such a bad idea to help Dad regain his
confidence.  He obviously needs it, as will Mom if she hasn't
gotten her head together after her trip.

JANE:  Good point.  So what do you suggest?

DARIA:  To avoid teaching him to be a Casanova, for one.  By the
time Mom returns, he'll have forgotten half of what he's learned,
and the rest will have been bungled in the translation.

JANE:  No doubt making things worse than before.

DARIA:  You'd have a new roommate on your hands.

(She stands up, walks over to her computer desk.)

DARIA:  I won't try for a miracle, but with a little exploring,
I may find an approach that could be halfway useful, maybe even
remotely effective.

JANE: (encouraging)  Great!  Anything that keeps your sinuses in
your *own* room is a plus in my book.

(Daria shoots her a death glare.  Jane smirks.)

(Cut to shot of Jake and Quinn in the living room.  Quinn sits
on the couch, by now looking worn out.  The time spent with Jake
has sapped her patience, but something else is causing her to
frown with concern.)

QUINN:  Hey, Dad?  (tries to muster enthusiasm.)  Do you want
to give Mom a call?  You know, to find out when she'll be back.

JAKE:  Oh no, that's okay.  But *you* can if you want.

QUINN:  But it'd be a good way for you to practice the skills
you've learned, don't you think?

(Jake pales a little, then tries to chuckle it off.)

JAKE:  Oh, well... I don't want to show off right away.

QUINN:  Come on, don't be scared.

JAKE:  I'm *not*, honey.  But just the same, I'll wait 'til she
gets home.

QUINN:  But Dad, I really think --

JAKE:  *DAMMIT* Quinn, I don't *want* to talk to your mother, all
right?!!

(Quinn goes wide-eyed at his tone.  Jake immediately looks sorry.)

QUINN:  But I thought...

JAKE:  I mean not right this moment. (tries to chuckle.)  I mean
there are some things that I still need to go over, that you'll
help me with, right sweetie?  Like learning to keep my head up
during the *whole* conversation and not fall asleep.

(Quinn nods slowly.  Jake starts going through the scattered notes
he's taken.  When he's immersed in them enough that he's not paying
attention, Quinn quietly stands up and leaves the room.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 2 (Amy's residence, later afternoon)

(It's been a couple of hours since Helen left, and Amy and Joel are
on the living room couch.  *Sitting* this time, curled up together
in front of the tube.  You get the feeling that if Helen hadn't come,
this is what they would have done most of the weekend.  Amy tries her
best to push the fight with Helen out of her mind, with little success.
The last few exchanges keep replaying themselves.  She takes comfort in
Joel's nearness, his arm around her.  Yet Joel, himself, seems distant.
His eyes are still bloodshot and tired, and his face is grim, all of w
hich Amy does not fail to notice.)

AMY: (warm)  Hey, stranger.  (She reaches up and runs her hand along
the back of his head.)  What were you doing when you *didn't* take a
nap like you should have?

JOEL: (shrugs vaguely)  Didn't pay bills.  Didn't fix the dish
washer.  Didn't shop for food.

AMY:  At least you were productive. (looks at him critically.)
But you look exhausted.  You're going to bed early tonight.

JOEL: (affection seeping into tone)  Yes m'am.

(As Amy settles against him once again, he glances at her, noting the
her flushed cheeks and a faint puffiness around her eyes.)

JOEL:  And how did things go with Big Sis?

AMY: (pained expression)  I can't talk about it.

(Joel opts not to press; clearly it didn't go well.  As moments
pass, and Amy gazes blankly at the screen, he changes his mind.)

JOEL:  I don't know.  Maybe we should talk about it.

(Amy looks at him as though he's suggested she be flogged.)

AMY:  When we're watching this great show?  I really like... whatever
the hell they're trying to do.  (squints at the screen.)  Those
are either aliens or door-to-door salesmen, right?

JOEL:  I think we have to talk about it.

AMY:  Oh why fool myself: this is drek.  Let's never watch another
show with my name in the title again.

JOEL:  Come on, Amy.

AMY:  Like that one.

(Joel looks at her.)

AMY: (hard tone)  Why should *we* talk about it, Joel?

JOEL:  Because it has to do with why I couldn't sleep earlier.  (Amy
looks at him expectantly.)  The phone woke me up.  It was your niece.

AMY:  Daria?

JOEL:  The one with the high-pitched voice.

AMY:  Quinn. (Bt)  What did she want?

JOEL:  Just to know what her mom was doing.  Said things were
pretty frantic at home.

(Amy gets a look of guilt and concern.)

JOEL:  She kept freaking out about how she didn't want her parents to
divorce.

AMY:  She can be melodramatic.

JOEL:  Does she have a reason to worry?

AMY: (subdued)  Damned if I know.  (realizing what Joel alludes to.)
If she does, it's not because of anything *I* did.

JOEL:  So your plan to get Helen to "do what she really wants"
didn't pan out, huh?

(Amy scowls, feeling that Joel is throwing it in her face.)

AMY:  No it didn't.  Try not to sound so upset.

JOEL: (scowl)  Try giving me some credit.  I'm not asking if you
wanted to break up the marriage. I... I'm just feeling on edge.  A kid
waxing anxious into the phone for twenty minutes does that to you.

AMY: (sincere)  Sorry.

JOEL:  Especially if you can remember some of what she felt.

AMY:  Doubly sorry.  (reaches over, squeezes his hand.)

JOEL: (quiet)  But knowing Helen *and* her husband: you think they
should break up?

(Amy looks at him, searching for any underlying motives.  She
finally looks down and sighs.)

AMY:  I don't know.  Until a few hours ago, I did think she was too
good for Jake.  Now I'd say she's lucky to have anyone who walks
upright.

JOEL: (cheeks flushing)  Well that's encouraging.  I guess.

AMY:  What *I* think means little at this point, anyway, since she's
on her way home to patch things up.

JOEL:  So everything's fine, then.

AMY: (quiet)  Everything's fine.

(They refocus their attention on the program, but Amy can feel
Joel's distance.)

AMY:  Everything *isn't* fine.  You've been acting strangely toward
me since this morning.

JOEL:  What do you mean?

AMY:  You know what I mean.  Now if you could tell *me*, I would much
appreciate it.

(Joel considers for a moment or two.)

JOEL:  Fine.  Okay.  Fine.

AMY:  Dandy.

(He turns to face Amy with grim resolve.)

JOEL:  I don't think you set out to bust up your sister's marriage.
But I do think that when you talked about "Helen," you meant yourself.
You're the one who "wants" something.  (pained.)  Or possibly *someone*.

(Amy stares at him for a moment before circling her arms around his neck.)

AMY:  The only "someone" I want is *you*.

JOEL: (lays her arms down)  Then why is the guest room still stuffed
with loose crap?  Why does the living room look like it belongs to someone
with a split personality disorder??  I didn't move in yesterday.

AMY:  So furniture hasn't been a top priority. (pointed.)  For either
of us.  Pardon me if I'm still learning to share my space.

JOEL:  But new furniture means a next step, and so far I'm the only
one who's brought it up.  I know you, Amy: even your magazines have to
match the color scheme.  *This* isn't natural for you.

AMY: (frowning)  If you're so concerned, let's hop in the car, or
whatever, and do some bargain-hunting.  We have the rest of today
and tomorrow --

JOEL: (blurts out)  I just want to know if that means you plan to
turn me and my furniture out the door.

AMY:  What??

JOEL:  Have you ever thought of it?

AMY: (now angry)  Oh fuck you.

JOEL:  Look, I had to say it, I'm sorry.

AMY:  If you have so little faith in me...

JOEL: (undeterred)  When you broke it off the first time, you were in
this discontented mood.  Now for the past several months, you've been
a similar mood --

AMY:  So naturally that spells doom. (glares.)  I'm sorry, honey: I'll
try not to have "moods" anymore.

JOEL:  Can you blame me for thinking the worst??  After what happened
before, and the way you act like you don't want my help.  Then  you kept
Helen from going home to her husband --

AMY: (angry)  And it was really all about you.  Good work, Sherlock,
you've found all my hidden clues, even a few that don't exist.

JOEL: (weary)  A part of me just has trouble believing that you weren't
happier single.  And that you'll confess this "fact" to me right before
we become too settled.

(Amy looks away and stares at the T.V. screen, not seeing it.)

AMY:  Just when this day couldn't get any worse.

JOEL:  I need to know where you stand, that's all.

AMY:  Where I "stand," Joel Silverman... (turns to face him.) is that
since you moved in, I haven't had a single thought about breaking up
with you -- until now.  I'm just a little hurt you couldn't find
a way to broach the subject without blindsiding me with a worst
case scenario.

(After hearing Amy's vow of commitment, Joel looks a little mollified.)

JOEL:  I don't see how I could have.  We're not talking about
celebrating an anniversary.  You don't... we don't... talk about the
sore subjects.  When they come up, you either trivialize them with
some sarcastic quip, or blow them off completely.

AMY:  Which again must mean I don't take our relationship seriously.
(Bt)  But what about you?

JOEL:  Me?

AMY:  I don't see you going out of your way.  Could it be that this
litany of complaints is just a cover for your *own* escape??

JOEL: (looks her in the eye)  No it is not.

AMY: (angry, injured)  Oh come on, now: the thought must have crossed
your mind.  How good it would feel to have a spunky, dynamic girlfriend,
instead of a closed in, moody one who makes you walk on eggshells.
Someone perfect for Mr. Perfect.

JOEL:  Excuse me?

AMY:  Mr. Can-Do, Fix-It, Know-All who pulled himself up by the
bootstraps he probably made himself.  Full scholarship to M.I.T.
Award-winning musician.  Guide dog for the computer blind.  Even
Helen could see the gap between us; don't tell me you can't.

JOEL:  I never once said you had to please me with a bunch of
accomplishments.

AMY:  That hasn't stopped me from feeling like I need to.  I try
to tell myself to live with it, that people all have their strengths
and weaknesses, but sometimes I can't.  I just can't.

(Joel looks at her with an expression of astonishment and curiosity.
Amy looks back at him, the adrenaline rushing through her making her
feel tired and sick.  She presses her hands to her forehead as though
suffering from a migraine.)

AMY:  Ugh, I can't do this anymore.  I've had too much "Days of
Our Lives" for one day.  (almost pleading.)  If you still want to
fight, please just wait until I've taken a bath, okay?

(She stands up.  Joel tries to touch her arm.)

JOEL:  Amy...

AMY:  Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get caught in an undertow and be
sucked down the drain.

(cut to: )

SCENE 3 (interstate freeway, that same time)

(Shot of Helen's SUV, speeding along in the fast lane, tailgating and
changing lanes to pass the slower cars.)

ELVIS: (VO)
			Every sweet thing that mattered
                         Has been broken in two
                         All my dreams have been shattered
                         How's the world treating you?


(Cut to shot of the inside.  Elvis continues to croon from the CD player
as Helen clutches the steering wheel, gazing straight ahead.  Amy's
words have left an impact on her, for she looks as though she's using all
of her energy to keep from crying.  She finally turns off the CD player
and drives in silence, and when the SUV slows at a weekend traffic
jam, she breaks down a little, letting the tears flow down her face
unabated.  She sinks lower in her seat, allows her arms to slacken.
The expression on her face is conflicted.  Should she believe Amy, or
assume that it was all said out of spite?)

(Helen finally reaches for her cell, lying on the passenger seat.  She
groans when she sees that it has been accidentally shut off.)

HELEN: (muttering)  *Great*, just great.  Don't even *let* them
get in touch with you.

(Once turned it on, the phone reveals a message, which Helen eagerly
listens to.  It could be one of the girls, or Jake.  Or Amy.  But instead --)

GREG: (VO)  Well hi there, Helen, it's Greg Valmont calling.  I see
according to my call log that  you phoned on Friday.  Sorry I haven't
had a chance to get back to you, I was helping out with a show yesterday.

(Helen gets an expression of shock.  It's as though repeated invocations
of his name have conjured up the man out of thin air.  She then recalls
her attempt to phone Greg, blanching as she remembers that he answered
and she hung up on him.  What he must think of her.)

GREG: (slightly awkward)  Anyway, I would like to talk to you again.
In fact I'd like you to come over.  I have your sculptures at my house
-- you left the class and never reclaimed them, and I didn't want them
to be tossed out.  So when you get the chance, give me a call back, and
we can arrange...

(To this, and what is left of the message, Helen listens soberly.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (Morgendorffer residence, that same time)

(Close-up shot of Daria sitting at her computer, with Jane leaning
over her.  They've been net-surfing this entire time, and are
gazing at the screen, which we cannot see, with repulsed expressions.)

JANE:  *Yeesh*!

DARIA:  Ugh!

JANE:  Retch.

DARIA:  Snorf.  (Jane looks at her funny.)  Just felt like saying that.

JANE:  My *God*, how many sexual testimonials *are* there?

DARIA:  I think my blindness is complete now.

JANE:  Is there a local dry cleaner that does eyeballs?

(Daria kills the browser window and looks at a stack of papers that
have already been printed.)

DARIA:  Okay, that one sucked, but at least the other sites we went to
had useful info. (flips through.)  Boosting self-esteem... listening when
your inner child tells you to quit whining and be an adult...

JANE:  Therapy groups that aren't the offshoots of some yuppy cult...

DARIA:  Maybe if I broach one or two of these on my dad, he'll --

QUINN: (OS)  Forget it.  It won't work.

(Daria and Jane turn, startled, to find Quinn in the doorway.  She's shrunk
back a little, partially out of view, as if reluctant to expose herself
to any derisive comments.)

DARIA:  Why not?

QUINN: (flat)  Because Dad's hiding something.

(Daria looks at her for a beat.  She lays the papers aside.)

DARIA: (low voice)  You can tell, too?

(Quinn edges her way into the room, shutting the door part way.)

QUINN: (nods)  My background has made me sensitive to little shifts
in body movement.  One shoulder higher than the other: "Oh God, I hope
she never finds out I forgot our two-week anniversary!"  A raised
eyebrow: "Will I get to second base, or will I have to crawl home
from our date?"

DARIA:  A twitching nose: "Can someone remove this wayward mosquito?"

QUINN:  But in Dad's case (face falls.) he keeps stumbling over words
and laughing weird.  And he acts like he doesn't want to see Mom.

(Daria's face is weary, and she and Quinn share a look.  They know
that things are sliding toward worse, not better.  And though they
still nurse resentments toward one another, they realize it's time
for an unspoken truce so they can focus on the bigger problem.
Daria's face takes on a steely expression.)

DARIA:  All right: Daria Morgendorffer has played hide and no seek
long enough.

QUINN:  Huh?

DARIA:  This whole weekend I've avoided confronting Dad unless
absolutely pushed into it.  No more.  (She stands up.)  I want to
settle this thing, even if that means a result we didn't want.

QUINN: (a little unnerved)  You're going downstairs?  Now?

DARIA:  You coming with me, or are you staying here?

QUINN: (quiet)  I can't go back down there.

DARIA:  But you were just there.

QUINN:  But that was when I didn't know.  Now that I think I *do*
know, I don't... want to know.

DARIA: (sympathetic deadpan)  That's your choice.  You can stay with
Jane, then.

JANE:  Actually Jane is gonna take this opportunity to bail.

DARIA: (now a bit unnerved herself)  You're leaving *now*??

JANE:  It looks like your parents' crisis has taken a turn toward the
*way* too personal, and should really be kept within your family.

DARIA:  But you know almost as many personal secrets as me and Quinn.

JANE:  Well there comes a time when you've got to say enough is
*too* much.  (Bt, concerned.)  Unless, y'know, you still feel like you
*need* me to stay.

(Daria thinks for a few beats, before shaking her head.)

DARIA: (sincere)  No, I think we'll be fine on our own.  You've
been a big help, though.

QUINN:  Yeah.

JANE: (sympathetic)  Call me if you need to spill your guts.  Trust
me, I'm weak.  I really *do* want to know how it turns out.

(She opens the door and is part way through when she turns around.)

JANE:  And remember, Luke: use the force.

DARIA:  You just had to wreck it with a cliche, didn't you?

(Jane waves at them.  Then Daria looks at Quinn and heads toward the
door as well.  After a beat, Quinn follows.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 5 (kitchen, minutes later)

(Jake is hunting through the fridge, looking for dinner-making ingredients.
On the table are several scattered notepads and crumpled papers.  Suddenly,
Daria steps on screen in the foreground, her back to us.)

JAKE:  Well hi, kiddo, was that your friend who just...?

(His words die when he sees her face.)

DARIA:  Dad, tell us the truth.

JAKE:  What do you mean?

DARIA:  The truth.  You've been hiding something, and we want to know what.

JAKE: (forced laughter)  Ah, kiddo, I don't --

DARIA:  Want to hurt us?  Been there, heard that.

JAKE: (ashen face)  Daria...

DARIA: (hard look)  Besides: it's too late.

(Jake closes the refrigerator slowly and looks at Daria standing a few
feet away.  Then at Quinn, who is taking a seat at the kitchen table,
looking apologetic for "jumping on him" so soon after she was trying to
help.  His face takes on a slightly sick expression.)

JAKE:  Girls, I-I *can't*.  I can't tell you.

DARIA:  Why *not*?!  (She says it with far more anger than intended,
letting her disgust for the past two days completely show.)  It's none
of our business??  It's our damn house, Dad.  It's you and Mom, our
parents, our family, our future, and we have every right to know what's
happening.  If you really loved us, you would tell us.

JAKE: (hurt)  You... but girls, I *do* love you!

DARIA:  Then tell us what's going on.

JAKE: (pained whimper)  But if I tell you... that means it's true.

DARIA & QUINN:  What is?

(Pause)

JAKE: (small voice)  That I've met someone.

(Daria and Quinn don't react, but both grow noticeably paler.  A heavy
silence follows, until Daria manages to speak in a voice that sounds
strangely high.)

DARIA:  Who?

JAKE:  A student in my class. (strained chuckle.)  See girls?  They're
not *all* men.

(This produces no reaction from his daughters.  The blood rushes to
Daria's head, and she shakes it as though trying to rouse herself
from a trance.)

DARIA:  But how?  We never saw *anything*...

JAKE: (babbles nervously)  That's because it's not a big deal.  It's
not, *really*!  I mean sure, the way I first said it made it *sound*
like a big deal, but you just caught me off guard --

DARIA:  Does Mom know?

JAKE:  Um, no.  She doesn't.

DARIA: (closes her eyes)  Of course she doesn't.

JAKE:  Kiddo, it's completely innocent!  She's just a friend -- a
*student* friend, more of a student than a friend!  I've just met her a
few times after class, for coffee or a beer.  Innocent!

DARIA:  And you were going to tell Mom any day now.

JAKE:  Of *course*!  Um...

DARIA: (numbly)  Or bring her over so we could meet her, or talk to
her on the phone, or mention her existence --

JAKE: (anger, panic)  *Dammit* Daria, why are you making it sound
worse than it is?!

DARIA: (current of fear)  Because just maybe it *is* worse?

JAKE:  How would *you* know!  You're just a kid!  You wouldn't understand
these things!

DARIA: (eyes narrow)  Not understand that our father's been lying??  Not
understand that the more we talk about it, the more you get defensive??
God, stop insulting us!

JAKE:  I'm *not* --

DARIA:  It's bad enough you're putting us through this.  At least respect
that we've got functioning brains!  If not yourself.

(Jake is about to retort, when he sees Quinn, who has been quiet, get
a look of devastation and turn to face the other way.  He looks back
and forth between his daughters and, with a pang, realizes he can't fool
them, or himself, any longer.)

JAKE:  All right.

DARIA:  All right *what*??

JAKE: (more subdued)  All right.  If it means so much to you, I'll stop
seeing this woman.  I was going to, anyway.

DARIA:  Then why haven't you done it already??

JAKE: (miserable)  It would have meant giving up teaching.  Tutoring
Quinn was so much fun, I was just glad to get another chance.

DARIA:  And you couldn't have taught at one of countless other locations.
Unless there are female students *there*, too --

JAKE: (rushed, nervous)  Please, kiddo, listen!  I didn't know.  What I
told you last night was *true*.  My students liked me, I liked them.  It
was so nice not to be made fun of, I didn't realize what was happening.
Until it was too late.

(Jake slumps against the counter.  Daria remains rigid in the middle of
the room, scared of every question she asks, but needing to probe further
Quinn gazes at the sliding glass door, dejected.)

JAKE:  Please, girls, I didn't *mean* for this to happen.  I *love* your
mother!  I love our family, and all I've wanted is for things to be back
to normal.

DARIA: (low voice)  Are you going to tell Mom?

JAKE: (pales)  I'm just afraid she'll get too upset.

DARIA:  Were you *ever* going to tell her?

JAKE: (soft)  I-I wanted to figure out how to talk to her first.

(He goes over to where Quinn is sitting, tries to get her to look at him.)

JAKE:  You see, sweetie, I really *did* need all that help you gave me.
(Pause)  Sweetie...?

(He touches her shoulder, and Quinn spins around to look at him, eyes
blazing.  She jerks her shoulder away, takes one of the notebooks on
the table and rips out the pages, which she then tears to shreds.
She stands up and flings the shreds at Jake, then grabs the notebooks
and hurls them at him.  Jake manages to block one before it can hit
his face.  Quinn then shoves him in the chest on her way out of the
room, and is gone in a whirlwind of tears and rage.  The whole thing
lasts less than thirty seconds, but has a definite impact on Jake.
He slumps into a chair and stares forlornly at the table top.)

DARIA: (flat)  Damn.  Now it'll just be copying when I do it.

(She's about to follow Quinn out of the room, when Jake puts up a
hand to stop.)

JAKE:  Daria... please.  Don't go.

DARIA: (angry)  If you expect me to forgive you --

JAKE:  *No*.  At least...

DARIA:  What hurts most is that because of *her*, you shielded a whole
part of your life from us.  *She's* the reason you didn't tell us where
you went at night, isn't she?  Not because you were scared we'd catch
you teaching.

JAKE: (low voice)  It started being about teaching...

DARIA: (angrier)  *She* gets to see the side of you that's smart and
interesting and a good person.  *We* get the clueless jerk who's never
around.  And to think we were proud of you last night...

(This last sentence is the most bitter pill for Jake to swallow.)

JAKE:  Daria... I know I've messed up.  Please... just let me know how
I can make it up to you.

(Daria looks at him, not wanting to spend another minute in the same
room -- certainly not to make him feel better.  Then she considers
that this would ultimately be in her and Quinn's best interest.)

DARIA: (looks him in the eye)  First tell Mom what you've done.

(Jake considers this for several beats, before nodding slowly.)

DARIA:  Second, answer this.  Why are adults such idiots?

JAKE:  Huh??

DARIA:  You've had thirty more years on the planet, plenty of time to
work through the chips on your shoulder and the hang-ups that keep
you down.  But instead, like busted wind-up toys, you just perform
the same stupid tricks.

(She walks over to the table and stands across from Jake.)

DARIA:  I've been told time and again that no one is perfect, but
what excuse is there for you to be *this* imperfect??

(After a long beat, Jake speaks.)

JAKE:  There isn't an excuse.  We just *are* idiots.  Some more than
others.  (pats his chest.)  Most of the time, living doesn't make
you wiser... it just makes you older.

(His response isn't what Daria wanted to hear, though she didn't expect
him to say anything she did want to hear at this point.  Her eyes narrow.)

DARIA:  Sounds like a cop-out if you ask me.  You *could* act better
if you wanted.  At least I hope so.  (wave of fear.)  I *won't* grow
up to be like that.

JAKE: (morose)  Aw kiddo, you're so good at seeing how things could turn
out before they happen, you probably *won't* make half the mistakes other
grown-ups do.  But that doesn't mean there won't be a time when you hurt
someone without meaning to.

(To this Daria tries not to listen, though she can't deny Jake's logic.)

JAKE:  And when that happens, you just hope you can find a way to make
amends. (quiet.)  Hope that the people you love are bigger than you are.

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 6 (Amy's residence, later)

(Amy sits on the bed, robed and toweling off the ends of her hair.  Slowly
the door opens, and Joel walks in.  He and Amy stare at each other for a
long time.  Both wear guarded, remorseful expressions.)

JOEL: (finally, subdued)  I didn't come in here to fight.

(Pause)

AMY:  Good.

(Joel moves slowly toward the bed and stands beside it, as if unsure of
whether he's welcome to sit down.  After a beat, Amy pats the place
beside her.  Joel sits, and they continue to look at each other.)

AMY: I...

JOEL: (at the same time)  I'm sorry I didn't trust you.  I should have
known better.  (shakes his head.)  I -- it wasn't you.  It was what
I came from, and I was just projecting.  I was being a complete asshole.

AMY:  No you weren't.  (Bt)  Well you were, but so was I, a little.

(Joel brushes his hand against Amy's cheek, and Amy leans forward
and wraps both arms around him. They hold each other tightly.)

AMY:  Dammit, Joel, I love you.  Don't ever doubt that.

(Joel rubs his cheek against her hair.)

JOEL:  I love you, too.  So much I can't stand it, sometimes.

(They continue to hug in silence for several more beats, before pulling
apart, almost reluctantly.)

AMY:  So now what?

(Joel considers for a few moments, groans and shakes his head.  He
then glances at Amy's robe and playfully nods toward the bed.  Amy
lightly slaps him on the cheek.)

JOEL:  Just trying to lighten the mood.

(Amy smirks, suggesting that it worked.)

AMY:  We've obviously got problems to work through.  (more serious.)
Starting with communication.

JOEL:  I could have sworn we've done this before.

AMY:  It's like one of those nasty weeds you keep having to pump
full of poison.  (reddens.)  Not the best comparison.

(Joel takes Amy's hand, squeezes it.)

JOEL: (awkward)  I didn't know you felt inferior to me.  Whenever you
made those Mr. Perfect comments, I assumed you were being... how you are
with everyone.

AMY: (softly)  You never said anything, but I thought: how could you
*not* feel that way?  You're the one who's always got something going
on, who likes to try new things.

JOEL:  So do you.

AMY: (almost angry)  No I *don't*.  I can recall exactly *two* challenges
I've undertaken alone.  Joining an all-girl punk band during my
"piss my parents off as much as possible" college phase, and buying
a red Spitfire instead of a black one.

JOEL:  A wise choice.

AMY:  I thought so.

JOEL:  So tell me: does this have anything to do with your rut?  Were
you, like, so distraught I would up and leave you, you got depressed?

(Amy's eyes shift away a little, in thought.)

AMY:  No. (recalls her fight with Helen.)  Not completely.  It's hard
to explain, but since we got back together, I was feeling happier than
I'd felt for quite some time.  Great love, great sex, and while the job
wasn't great, it didn't suck either.

JOEL:  So what happened?

AMY:  I started to doubt myself.  Wondered why *I* deserved to be
happy, what I had done to make it so.  And I came up empty.  I'd
done nothing.  (closes her eyes.)  My whole life I've just fallen
into every opportunity that's been laid out for me, just like Hel...

JOEL:  Not from where I'm standing.

AMY: (to herself)  I avoid putting myself out there -- first because
of my father, then to be different from my sisters, until finally
I just never learned how.  (looks at Joel.)  You should always,
*always* be proud of what you've accomplished.  But sometimes I feel
like you're a mirror held up to my face, revealing all of my
wasted potential.

(Joel looks concerned.)

AMY:  And I just don't know if I can deal with it in the long run.
It scares me to think about -- *you* scare me.

JOEL: (worried)  I thought you said you didn't want to break up
with me.

AMY: (shaky smile)  I don't.  But that doesn't mean I won't come
after you with a cast iron skillet someday.

JOEL:  And I'm the one who scares *you*.

(He chuckles, causing Amy to blush, then becomes intense.)

JOEL:  Because you scare me.  You're the one who's always seemed
better.  Beautiful, confident, says exactly what's on her mind.  When
my friends see you, they're like: "My God, you live with *her*??"

(Amy smirks, in spite of herself.)

JOEL:  I had to work to become somebody, but to me, you were *born*
amazing.  Everything you do, no matter how small, just reflects that.
That's why I love being a part of whatever you do, and why in the
past I let it get a bit out of hand.

(Amy cocks a brow, remembering.)

JOEL:  When you're in a down mood, like now, I can feel it.  Even though
you don't express it openly.  And I want to do everything to try and
make it better.

(Her face now soft, Amy leans forward and kisses Joel on the lips.
They then embrace once again, Amy's head on Joel's shoulder.)

AMY:  I don't know whether to be flattered or concerned.

JOEL: (smirks)  At least I haven't built the alter yet.

AMY:  So again, now what?  Do we just worship each other and continue
to wallow in our insecurities?

JOEL:  I think... we work on the insecurities, and just try to stay
honest with each other.

(Amy pulls back, looks him in the eye.)

AMY:  Like if you tell *me* your concerns instead of going behind my
back to Helen.

JOEL: (equally pointed)  Or if you actually talk about *your* feelings
instead of blowing them off with sarcasm.

(They stare at each other for a beat.)

JOEL: (soft)  Done.

AMY: (smiles)  And I'm working on it.  I won't ever share *everything*,
but I'll definitely try to be more open.

JOEL:  You know a year ago we wouldn't have said what we just said.
I wouldn't have known of your feelings about Helen --

AMY:  My feelings about Helen.  Oh God.

(Her tender expression turns pained, filling Joel with worry.)

JOEL:  What is it?  What did I say?

AMY:  Nothing.  She and I fought right before she left.

JOEL: (can't resist asking)  Again?

AMY: (nods)  It was worse this time. (winces.)  The things I said to
her... and what she said to me.  The whole stupid fight was so painful
and out of control.

JOEL:  You two have bounced back from a bad fight before.

AMY:  I don't think we will this time.  (closes her eyes, now seems
close to tears.)  I told her I *loved* her.

JOEL: (faint smile)  Ouch.

AMY: (shakes her head)  When I was a child.  I told her everything.
About how I worshiped her, thought she had all this great potential
to share with the world.  It's like Satan pitched a tent in my brain
and made me blab every single thought I'd kept private for over
thirty years.

JOEL:  Still, it doesn't sound terrible.

AMY:  I just don't know why I did it.  (winces.)  Of *course* Helen's
not perfect.  Of course she's flawed and weak and vain like everyone
else.  I've known that for years.  But this window opened up that let
me see her the way I once did.  I jumped through, and came down hard.

JOEL:  How come?

AMY:  I wanted her to help me.  But not just that.  (She looks away,
takes a deep breath.)  Back when I "worshiped" Helen, I also knew
that she loved me more than my own mother did.  She loved me like
a mother.

(Joel recalls his conversation with Helen over the photo, and nods.)

AMY: (shakier)  Which I really needed, given that my own mother
was so distant, Rita hated me for replacing her as the youngest
girl, and Dad was so Jekyll-and-Hyde.  (knits her brow.)  But then
came the day when Helen left me.  I don't know how.  She hadn't even
left for college yet, but suddenly she just wasn't *with* me anymore.

(She quivers a little, and fights to stay controlled.)

AMY:  I never knew why.  Never knew if it was something *I* did,
or if something inside her changed.  (hint of anger.)  Or if she
only loved me because I was a girl and saved her ass.

JOEL:  Did you ask her?

(Amy shakes her head.)

AMY: (continues)  Once she "left" me, I no longer saw her as perfect.
And earlier today, when I saw that I couldn't get "perfect" Helen
back, and that the source of her love was possibly tainted, I lost
it.  Said she was horrible and selfish, and destined to wreck her
family.

JOEL: (faint smirk)  She take it well?

AMY:  Yes, she merely tore me to shreds.  Between the two of us, I
think we had the block convinced the Apocalypse was at hand.  Either
that, or a trashy reality show.

JOEL: (cringes)  I'll take the Apocalypse, thanks.

AMY:  The things we said... if she takes my words to heart the way I
did hers.  (then, angry.)  God, why does it always have to end like
that?!  I wish I could take it all back.

(Joel reaches back and snares the phone, which he hands to Amy.)

JOEL:  Here.  Call her up.

AMY:  I-I can't.  She'll never --

JOEL:  You won't know unless you try.  Come on.

(Amy hesitates, before taking it and punching speed dial.)

AMY: (muttering)  If I've done anything to hurt those people, I swear
I'll never forgive myself... (After several rings.)  Voice mail.

(She clicks off the phone without leaving a message, dejected.)

AMY:  If I try her home phone, I might interrupt her with Jake.  Or
he or the girls might answer and I'd be forced to make up some
excuse, and I forgot the excuse Helen gave.

(With disgust, she slams the phone down hard on the bed.)

JOEL:  *Calm* down, Amy.  Just keep trying her cell phone.  She'll
answer sooner or later.

AMY:  I want to help her.  In spite of whatever far-flung excuse
she gave, I really do think she came here for my help.  At least it
would give her a chance to explain.

(Her eyes convey a depth of feeling and sorrow that touches Joel,
and he brings her against him.)

JOEL:  We'll do whatever it takes, all right?

(Amy turns her head and looks at him.)

AMY:  Thanks, honey.  For being here.

(She takes Joel's face in her hands, and they kiss deeply and tenderly.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 7 (Greg's house, evening)

(Wide shot of the exterior.  In the twilight it looks like a regular
single story, the type you might see on DeMartino's or Mrs. Johanson's
street.  The only thing marking it as an artist's house is a large,
metallic modern art piece on the lawn.  In the foreground of this
shot, we see the nose of Helen's SUV just poke into view.)

(Cut to shot of Helen sitting in the dark interior.  She puts the SUV
in park and just stares at Greg's house across the street.  Just sits
and stares.)

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 8 (Morgendorffer house, later)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria and Quinn, in Quinn's room,
where Daria has tracked her down after their confrontation with Jake.
Quinn sits at the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, while Daria sits
at the head, squeezing Quinn's Smiley pillow.  Neither of them speaks
for several beats.)

QUINN: (tired)  What's gonna happen... when Mom gets home?

(Daria looks at her, shrugs.  She can't even imagine.  At this point,
she doesn't know what Helen's been up to all weekend, where her thoughts
are, what her intentions are.)

QUINN:  Do you think she'll kick Dad out of the house?

(Daria frowns.)

DARIA:  I hope she'd at least give him a hearing, first.

QUINN: (rage)  But why should she??  He lied to her, too!  Why shouldn't
she hate him as much as *we* do?

DARIA:  Because.  She may not have a choice.

(Quinn looks at her with concern.)

QUINN:  Do you think Dad will leave us?

DARIA:  *Quinn*.  God, don't even talk like that!

QUINN:  I'm sorry!

(Shaken by Daria's tone, Quinn closes her mouth and is silent.  Daria
looks at her regretfully.)

DARIA:  No, *I'm* sorry.  For all of this.  Sorry that our efforts
yielded nothing but crap.  That I forced us to hear the truth when
we didn't have to.

QUINN:  But you couldn't have known, Daria.

DARIA:  I could have guessed.  I had my suspicions.  (pained scowl.)  If
I had left it alone, Dad would have told *Mom*, not us.

QUINN: (inching toward her on the bed)  But we *wanted* to know.  And I
was too scared.  You did the right thing.

(She finds herself patting Daria's hand, to lift her out of her mood.
Daria looks at her with an expression that is surprised and touched.)

QUINN:  If Dad never said a word and this whole awful *thing* between
him and Mom dragged on, I would have hated it.  Wouldn't you?

(Daria thinks for a moment.)

DARIA: (resigned)  Yeah.

(She finds herself reaching up, taking Quinn's hand, and giving it a
squeeze.  Quinn looks surprised by her gesture.  Her face softening,
she sits down beside Daria, bringing her knees to her chest.)

QUINN:  It was never your fault, Daria.  (dejected.)  It was mine.

DARIA:  *Your* fault?

QUINN: (pained)  If Dad hadn't helped me with math, none of this would've
happened.

DARIA:  Not making the connection.

QUINN:  You heard him say that tutoring me led him to teach, and that's
how he met that person who isn't Mom. (more distressed.)  If I hadn't
needed help, then stopped asking for it, he wouldn't have looked
somewhere else, and he'd still be at home, and we probably wouldn't be
talking right now.  I was like his *inabler*, or something.

DARIA:  Quinn...

QUINN: (face crumples a little)  I didn't want this to happen, Daria.

(Daria's brow creases with sympathy, and she leans over to give Quinn
a hug around the shoulders.)

DARIA:  It's not your fault.  Really.  Tutoring you is the *best* thing
that's come out of this.

QUINN:  Oh, *that's* saying a lot.

DARIA:  I'm serious.  It got you interested in school, didn't it?

QUINN: (cross)  So what??  If it wrecks our house, it's not worth it.

DARIA: (firm)  You didn't make Dad teach at the Extension Center.  You
didn't even know.  If you didn't know, how could you prevent it?

(Quinn sighs, as Daria's logic seeps in.)

QUINN:  I guess.

DARIA:  If you take your learning further through life, no matter what
happens it will be worth it.

QUINN: (quietly)  You really mean that?

DARIA:  I've always meant it.

(Quinn considers this, then pulls away from Daria a little.)

QUINN:  Yeah... but you don't always act like it.

(Daria thinks for a moment.)

DARIA:  Act like I think you're smart?

(Quinn freezes, then nods faintly.  Daria sighs, remembering her
conversation with Jane on the subject, and decides to 'fess up about
some of her feelings.)

DARIA:  I haven't always wanted to think you were.  "Bright enough," sure.
Better than the other fashion drones, naturally.  But "truly smart" was
an honor I wasn't willing to bestow.

QUINN: (quiet)  How come?

DARIA:  Because... (struggles to think of words.)  what's so unique about
me if *you* can be smart so easily?

QUINN:  But we wouldn't be smart in the same way.

DARIA:  It's the act of being a *brain* that gives me my identity, not
what I'm smart at.  You have other things that you're known for.  For me,
this is it.

QUINN:  Oh, okay.  (tries not to sound disappointed)  So does that mean
you think I'm smart, but you're never going to tell me so?

(She gets a look on her face that is almost as sad as the one she wore a
few moments ago. Daria struggles with a conflicting desire to comfort
her sister and stay true to her logic, which she feels is justified in
spite of Jane's remarks and Quinn's disappointment.)

DARIA: (quiet)  What does it matter if *I* tell you?  Aren't there about
fifty mathletes, not to mention your teacher, who would do it without
hesitation?

QUINN: (cheeks flushing)  Yeah... but... you always mean what you say.  About
*everything*.  (flustered.)  Plus, you're my sister.  Plus you're, like,
the smartest person I know.  What you say is worth, like, *ten* Jeffys.

DARIA:  What, no Joeys?

QUINN:  And you're the one who knows how to handle being smart. (frustrated.)
Me, I feel like I'm on a new planet, and I don't have anyone to be my
tour guide.

DARIA:  The bathrooms are to the *left* of the comet storm.

QUINN:  I just want to make sure I'm not doing it wrong.  (Pause. with
reluctance.)  Plus, I don't think I've ever made you proud of me.  I
mean *really*.  And I thought...

(Daria cocks an eyelid, her resolve fading at the sincerity of Quinn's
tone.  She sighs.)

DARIA:  You're a sharp person, Quinn.  I don't even think I realized
how sharp until today.  You examine a problem and instantly seek out
a workable solution.

(Quinn nods, trying to take pleasure in that much praise, at least.)

DARIA:  You're like that with everything -- fashion, relationships, *math
equations*.  It's who you are.  And you proved that even more this weekend,
when *you* found out where Dad was going, and *you* tried to help him with
Mom.  I wish I had half your nerve.

QUINN: (smiles a little)  Thanks, Daria.

DARIA:  And you wouldn't be sharp if you weren't... kind of smart, too.

(Quinn's face takes on a genuine smile this time.  She looks the
happiest she has all weekend.)

QUINN:  *Thanks*!

DARIA:  Wow.  I said it, and my head didn't explode.  I must be going
soft.

QUINN: (giddy)  Or it's just 'cause you know I'll never be as smart
as you.  (Bt)  You wanted me to say that, didn't you?

DARIA:  So that _Easy Guide to Mind Control_ *was* worth the money.
(Then, grudging but sincere.)  Quinn, truth be told, I don't know how
smart you are.  You might *not* be as smart as me.  Or you might.  But
the point is how you use that intelligence.  Like deciding whether or not
it's worth it to spend your life folding sweaters at Cashmans.

QUINN:  Right... (Then, more serious.)  Does this also mean you're no longer
down on any of the math stuff I do?  Or my teacher?

DARIA: (objects)  I haven't been "down" on... (She then pauses to reflect,
before speaking honestly.)  Look, I won't pretend that that doesn't concern
me anymore, because it does.  But most of it has nothing to do with you,
understand?

QUINN: (confused)  Um, sure.

DARIA:  And I'm going to have to trust you to do what you think is
best.  Know when it's time to move on.

(More confused, Quinn just looks at her.  Then something dawns on her,
and her face goes reflective.)

DARIA:  And... maybe I should move on, too.  Quit worrying about my
damn identity, and be that tour guide you need, or whatever.  It gets
pretty windy on the dark side of Jupiter.

(She wishes she felt half as certain as she sounds.  As she watches
Quinn's face light up, she hopes that she can keep up her selflessness
in the long run.)

QUINN:  I'd like that.  (Bt)  And Daria?

DARIA:  Yes?

QUINN:  You... um, you're good with stuff, too.

DARIA:  So I've been told.

QUINN:  At stuff besides being a brain, I mean.  You're real good
at being forceful and saying what you think.  The way you pressured Dad
and wouldn't back away, that was, like, really... cool.

(Daria's face takes on muted surprise and pleasure at Quinn's compliment.
She hadn't thought Quinn was in a state to pay attention.)

DARIA:  "Cool," eh?  (smirks.)  Let's hope the next subject you fall for
is English.

(Quinn rolls her eyes.)

QUINN: (smirks)  You should do that more often.  Go up to people on your
own, I mean.

DARIA:  I may just do that.  Much as I try to drag my heels, I seem to
keep doing that more often anyway.

QUINN:  I could...

(Her words trail off at the rumble of a car engine outside.  Daria and
Quinn glance at each other, then hurry over to the window to see.  Down
below, they see the long white beams of SUV headlights touching the garage
door.  As the SUV pulls into the driveway, Daria and Quinn exchange a
weary look.  "Mom's finally home.")

(cut to: )

SCENE 9 (living room, minutes later)

(Shot of the front door.  It opens, revealing a bone-weary Helen, still
dressed the way she was on Friday, briefcase in hand.  She surveys the
empty, half-lit living room.)

HELEN:  Hello?  I'm back.

(Her tone sounds mildly flat, as though she's not sure anyone will respond.
She moves inside and closes the door, then calls up the stairs.)

HELEN:  Daria?  Quinn?  Jake?

(When she receives no response, she starts toward the kitchen -- to eat and
to see if any notes/phone messages have been left.  Just then:)

DARIA: (OS)  Mom.

(Helen turns with surprise to see Daria and Quinn standing at the top of the
stairs.)

HELEN:  Why girls, I didn't think you were home!  (She smiles with overwhelming
tenderness and relief.)  The house was so quiet, and when no one answered --

DARIA:  Sorry, we were busy.

QUINN: (quiet)  How was it at Aunt Amy's?

(Beat)

HELEN: (hint of sadness)  Not as nice as I had hoped.

DARIA:  You didn't fix her problem?

(Helen pauses before shaking her head.  Then, insistent:)

HELEN:  Please, come down where I can actually *see* you.  It's been
more than two days.

(Daria and Quinn move down slowly, with a hint of wariness.  Although
they don't know exactly what Helen did that weekend, they're quite sure
it involved a lot of soul-searching and decision-making that could have
as many unfortunate consequences as Jake's activities.)

(Quinn reaches the bottom first, and Helen reaches forward to caress her
hair.  Then, on impulse, she drops her briefcase and hugs Quinn
tightly to her chest.  Quinn is startled, as is Daria.  But oddly enough,
they understand; it feels like much longer than two days have passed.
Quinn melts into Helen's embrace, and Helen makes a little waving gesture
for Daria to come over.  Daria hesitates for a moment, before inserting
herself awkwardly into the mix.  The same thoughts pass through her
skeptic's mind as they do through Quinn's: Mom is home.  No matter what
happens, Mom is home.  Mom will take charge of everything.  She'll find
a way to fix this.)

(Helen, meanwhile, continues to hug her daughters as though it's hurt
her to be separated from them.  Only after several more moments pass
does she finally pull away.)

HELEN:  Where's your father?

(Daria and Quinn glance toward the empty kitchen.)

QUINN: (quiet)  He was there last time we saw him.

DARIA:  I haven't heard any tires squealing.

(Helen nods solemnly, wondering if Jake is avoiding her.  Just then
she turns to see Jake approaching them slowly from the dining room
entrance.  Daria and Quinn step away and let their mother handle him.)

JAKE: (uneasy)  Hi, Helen.

HELEN:  Jake, hi.

JAKE: (strained enthusiasm)  It sure is good to see you!

HELEN: (genuine)  Yes, it's good to be home.

(Helen picks up on the strain, and her face creases with apprehension.
He knows something, she's sure.  Jake sees Helen's concerned expression
and becomes very nervous, convinced one of the girls has somehow tipped
her off.  He opens up his arms to her, and Helen receives them.  They
share a hug that is sincere, if a little stiff, allowing Daria and Quinn
to hope for the best.)

JAKE:  I was, um, just down in the basement.  You know, the pipes have
been causing trouble, and I thought...

HELEN:  The *pipes*?  Oh dear! (with exaggerated concern.)  I should
come down there and look at them with you.  We don't want a leak that
could ruin our foundation.

JAKE:  Um, yeah.  We sure don't.

(With that, they brace themselves for their first time alone that weekend.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 10 (basement, sometime later)

(Helen sits at the base of the steps, while Jake sits on a stool a few
feet away.  They stare at the floor, Helen looking sick, rueful, angry,
but also strangely at peace, and Jake looking very tired and glum.  She
has told him everything.  He has told her everything.)

JAKE: (finally)  I knew it.  (musters rage.)  I KNEW it!!  I knew there was
something between you and that *bastard*, I knew it!!

HELEN: (weary)  Jake, please.  The girls might hear you.

JAKE:  It should have been YOU who had to face them!  If only you'd *seen*
them, Helen!  Their little faces, so angry and hurt!  It should have been
*you* they lost faith in!

HELEN: (miserable)  Oh Jake, I'm sure they'll hate me soon enough! (eyes
narrow.)  Besides, I'm *so* sorry you had to be up front with them about
*your* little misdeed!

JAKE: (undeterred) Well why should old Jakey be left in the cold while you
run off with your precious *sculptor*?!

HELEN:  Of course, blame it on me!  Blame it ALL on me, like you *always* do!

JAKE:  Why not?!  It's your fault!

HELEN:  I just *kissed* Greg!  What you did was something else!

JAKE:  But you --

HELEN:  No, I don't.

(Jake's rage cools for a moment.)

HELEN:  No, I don't love Greg.

(Jake does the exaggerated blink, as he struggles with this revelation.)

JAKE:  You don't... (then, accusatory.)  But you *thought* you did, didn't
you?!  That's why you kissed him!  You just saw that you couldn't go
through with it!

HELEN: (distressed)  I didn't know *how* I felt about him.  He was a
friend, I was confused.  I got upset, and there his lips were.  I spent
this whole weekend trying to sort out how I felt, and it wasn't until
I actually went by his house that I knew for sure.

JAKE: (mocking) To try and spark the flame one last time, huh?!

(For a moment, Helen looks like she wants to smack him.  Then her face
grows reflective.)

HELEN:  I never went in.  I sat outside in the car for a few minutes
and then drove away.  (to herself.)  I never even knew he lived in
a house, much less one about six blocks from here.  And that's when
I realized: I can't love Greg.  I hardly even know him.

JAKE: (more sober, faint sneer)  You don't need to know him.  He's your
Superman, your *ideal*.

HELEN: (tired)  Jake, I can't have a meaningful relationship with an ideal.

(Jake reflects on this, while Helen's face grows more pained, as she
recalls the kiss and the events of that weekend.)

HELEN: (soft)  But still... you're right.  This whole thing started with me.
I kissed Greg first.  Then I felt so guilty and confused, I pushed you away. It
*is* my fault.

JAKE: (pang of sympathy)  Helen.  Honey...

HELEN:  All this time, I kept wondering how you would react.  Whether it
could be *you* that left *me*.  (teary smile.)  You've grown up so much,
Jake, in such a short amount of time, that a part of me thought you
might feel confident enough to walk out...

(Her voice trails off, as she confronts reality.  She struggles to hold
back tears.  Jake goes over to her and tries to put his arms around her.
Helen resists at first, but then allows him to keep his hands on her
shoulders.)

JAKE:  Aw honey, I would *never* walk out on you and the girls!

(Helen sniffles and looks at Jake calmly.)

HELEN:  So this woman... what's she like?

JAKE: (awkward)  Gee, I don't really know her *that* well, we just...

HELEN:  You must know *something* about her to have gone out a few times.

(Jake looks uncomfortable.)

JAKE:  She... she's nice.  She laughs at my jokes.  And, um, tells some
pretty funny ones, herself.  Like this one about -- (He stops abruptly
when he sees Helen's expression.)  There's no baggage with her.  I'm not
Jake the Screw Up or Jake the Military School Flunkie or Jake the Coward
or Jake the *Moron* --!

(Again, he sees Helen's face, tightly controlled, and stops.  Helen
closes her eyes, well aware that this is indirect blame of her.)

JAKE:  Not that --

HELEN:  Do you love her?

JAKE:  Well gee, I --

HELEN: (flaring up)  How *could* you?  You've barely just *met* her!

JAKE:  I... (cringes, tries to think of a way to phrase it.)  I like
her a lot.  But I *love* you.

(Helen nods, and then it's too much.  The news combined with her general
fatigue cause her to break down and start crying.  Jake looks distressed,
like he doesn't know what to do.  First he moves as if to wipe the tears
from her face, then finally, awkwardly, puts his arms around her.)

JAKE:  Didn't you hear me?  I love *you*.

(Helen nods, the tears still falling.  She then makes a jerking move,
causing Jake to release her and step away.  Helen wipes her eyes and
tries to sound as composed as possible.)

HELEN:  So what should we do?

JAKE:  I-I was hoping you would know.

HELEN:  What do you *want* to do?

JAKE:  I want to be home with you and the girls!  Now that I know
why you've been so distant, I don't have to worry about you going
away.  And the girls -- we have to do what's right for them.  I have
to regain their trust.

HELEN: (nods slowly)  Yes.  So will I.

JAKE:  I'll break it off; I'll stay home from now on, spend more
time with them -- with all of you.  Especially you, honey.  We'll
have a clean slate!  Would you like that??

HELEN:  Yes, I would.  (She smiles a little, tears still seeping
out of her eyes.)  I would like that *very* much.

(She feels a surge of happiness that blots out her fatigue, and tries
not to think about how Jake's declarations sound strained and his body
movements seem stiff and exaggerated, as though there's a disconnect
between what he feels and what he's trying to express.  Jake moves
toward her again with his arms open, and they embrace tenderly for a
long time.  When Jake at last moves away, Helen gazes up at his face,
only to find herself studying his expression.)

HELEN:  But Jake?

JAKE:  What is it, honey?

HELEN:  Didn't you say what the girls wanted most from you was honesty?

JAKE:  But I already...

(Helen looks right at him.  Her probing gaze causes Jake to stop
talking, and his shoulders to slump with concession.)

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 11 (Lawndale, Monday, early afternoon)

(Overhead shot of Lawndale: it's a clear, bright day.  The parts of
town that could be considered "main street" and "downtown" are
actually busy with noontime patrons.)

(Cut to inside shot of a sparsely-populated deli on the main street.
Joel sits at a table near the window, polishing off the last of a sandwich.
At Amy's end sits an untouched cola.  Joel checks his watch and looks with
concern toward the restrooms, when suddenly Amy appears from around the
other side, her face a little green, but otherwise okay.)

JOEL:  Here.  (gestures at the cola.)  To settle your tummy.

AMY: (smiling faintly with gratitude)  Thanks.  (sits down.)  I must
have eaten a bad bagel this morning.  Knew something in that schmeer
was staring back at me.

JOEL:  Or car sickness.

AMY:  Never a problem before.  (takes a sip.)  If I get a stomach bug
on top of everything else, it will be the perfect cap for this
weekend.

JOEL:  What about getting through to Helen?

AMY: (sips, shakes her head)  Got her damn voice mail again, and no
one answered at the house.  (She sits up straighter, looks a little
worried.)  I'm starting to think it was wrong to come here.

JOEL:  Give it time.  They'll be home soon.

AMY:  And if not, we've merely wasted the better part of a day driving
to Suburban Nowhere and back.

JOEL:  There's got to be *something* to see here.

(Amy remains impassive.)

JOEL:  If not in the town itself, something close by.

AMY: (uncertain)  I heard there's a giant strawberry.  Supposedly if you
rub it just the right way, it'll play "Strawberry Fields Forever."

JOEL: (skeptical)  Uh-huh.  And if I trip over a rock, will I start
hearing "Like a Rolling Stone"?

AMY:  This town bursts into song when the weather fluctuates.  I'd say
anything's possible.

(Joel looks a little spooked.  Amy smirks at him.)

AMY:  Thank you for volunteering to drive.

JOEL:  You'd done enough driving this weekend.  (smirks back.)  Besides,
I thought I might finally get the chance to meet those nieces you talk
about so much.

AMY:  Right.  (Her brow furrows, as something else occurs to her.)

JOEL:  And I'd like to know if Helen turns out all right, too.

(Amy smiles.  But then the thought that was bothering her causes her
expression to darken.  She focuses on her cola.)

AMY: (quiet)  Suppose Helen doesn't want to see me?  Suppose none
of them do?

(Joel pauses a long time before answering, his eyes turned toward
the window.)

JOEL:  You may get your chance to find out very soon.  (He points.)
Isn't that Helen's land menace over there?

(Amy looks, expecting to see one of a zillion red SUV's.  Instead,
parked across the street, in front of the bank, is one that she
instinctively knows is Helen's.  She stands up and walks over to
the window to see: sure enough, Helen climbs out and heads over
to the sidewalk.  She's alone.)

AMY: (sotto)  It's fate.

JOEL: (from the table)  Giant strawberry that plays Beatles tunes?
Think I'll check it out.  Call me when you're through, okay?

(Amy nods, and comes over to grab her purse and smooch Joel on the
head.  She then dashes outside, then across the street, which isn't
exactly a boulevard.  Helen is standing at the ATM, seemingly off
in her own world.  When she first sees Amy, her face registers shock,
followed by wariness, as she remembers the way they left off.  Then
a sadness that Amy unfortunately recognizes and understands.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 12 (Highland Hills Park, soon after)

(Shot of Helen and Amy sitting on a park bench, having wandered over
to the park from downtown.)

AMY: (softly)  You let him go?  After what you said?

(Helen pauses, then lowers her eyes and nods.)

HELEN:  I had to.  I had to give him a chance, at least for a while.

AMY:  How long do you plan to separate?

HELEN: (smiles with bravado)  Not too long.  (Bt)  I hope.

(Amy raises a brow, concerned.  Helen sighs shakily and tries to express
her reasoning in words.)

HELEN:  He said he didn't want to leave me, and I believe him.  But
I also know what he's going though: stretching himself and finding
a level of self-acceptance that he hasn't known before.  If I made
him stay, I would have compromised his growth and I just couldn't do that.

AMY:  What about the girls?

HELEN:  The girls... (pained.) for their sakes, I wish things could have
worked out differently.  But as it stands, it would have been a lie.
Jake and I would have resented each other more, had a messier split,
and the girls would have been stuck in the middle.  This way, as awful
as it seems, at least we stand a chance of remaining on the best terms.

AMY:  Is that how *they* feel?  Have you told them?

HELEN: (nods slowly)  Yes, that's why no one was around this morning.
Jake and I decided to break it to them gently.  You know, a nice
little drive.  To the mall.  (guilty.)  For some breakfast and
a bit of shopping.  (Bt)  For the most expensive item of their choice.

AMY: (skeptical)  And it helped?

HELEN:  Oh, sure it did. (pained laugh.)  The way a diamond ring helps
someone who just lost an arm.

(Amy emits a chuckle, more out of sympathy for all involved than because
she finds the comparison funny.)

HELEN:  I think they knew what we were going to tell them before
we even left the house.  They seemed to take a certain pleasure in
maxing out our credit cards.  (She stares out at the expanse of grass.)
It's going to be hard for them, I know.  I just hope...

(Amy touches Helen's shoulder gently, causing Helen to face her.  Amy
looks at her with the same intensity as when they were in the pawn shop.)

AMY:  Helen, are you sure this is for the best?  Are you sure this is
what you absolutely want??

(Helen gazes at her, and her expression wavers.)

HELEN:  I don't know.  Jake and I spent half the night talking, and it
seemed like the right idea this morning.  But now I feel so terrible,
like I'm coming out of shock.  Our *marriage*, Amy.  Twenty-four years
put on the line, just like that.  What if he never wants to come back?

AMY: (soft)  What if he doesn't?  Is it worth that risk?

(long Pause)

HELEN:  It has to be.

(Amy wants to say something more.  Even though her own relationship has
survived a break, she senses that her sister's marriage is in the worst
shape it's ever been in.  She feels very guilty, wishing again that she
had been a better confidante.  At the same time, Amy realizes that she
can't force Helen to make another decision, any more than she could
on Sunday, when her motives were different.  She resigns herself to the
fact that the situation is mostly out of her control.)

AMY:  Well if there's anything I can do to help...

(Helen looks at her, tears in her eyes.)

HELEN:  You did.  You came.

(She leans over and pulls Amy close.  Startled, Amy sinks into her embrace,
resting her head against Helen's shoulder.)

HELEN:  Oh Amy, when I saw you, I couldn't believe it!  After the way
we left things --

AMY:  Why do you think I came?

HELEN:  This means so much, if you only knew.  All those *awful* things
I said --

AMY:  Don't even worry about our fight right now.

HELEN:  No, no, I want to get it off my chest.  I didn't mean half of
what I said, and I'm *so* sorry.

AMY: (pulls back, smirks a little)  By now, Helen, you should know as well
as I do that we *always* mean what we say.  We're just not always right.

(Her face then puckers, as her accusations race through her mind once again.)

AMY:  And I was very wrong this time around.

(Helen reflects upon that.)

HELEN:  No you weren't.  Not completely.

(Fade-out.  Fade-in to a short time later.  They now stroll along on one
of the park paths, oblivious to other people.)

HELEN:  It's true my motives in this aren't one hundred percent selfless.
(resigned.)  I may not love Greg, but his influence *did* open up something
inside me that I can't ignore any longer.  Like Jake, I see this time apart
as a time to do some exploring.

AMY:  Other men?

(Helen gives Amy a look, and Amy mentally stabs herself.  Then Helen looks
thoughtful.)

HELEN:  I don't know.  I was more thinking my talents.  Maybe get involved
in a worthwhile cause.  Or even another art class.  (faint smile.)  That's
the part of not knowing I actually *like*.

(Faint smile from Amy, who also becomes reflective.)

AMY:  Well *you* were right about my needing to take a more active role in
de-rutting myself.  Now that I know some of my concerns were unfounded,
I think I stand a better chance of returning to normal.

(Amy smirks, but Helen turns serious and lays a hand on Amy's arm.  They
both stop walking.)

HELEN:  Amy, on the way home yesterday, I thought about some of what you
said.  About me and Dad, and my wish.  I feel like I need to clarify a
few things.

(Amy stiffens, nods; she had come hoping to talk about this, but Helen's
predicament had made it a far lesser priority.)

HELEN:  It's true, I was happy when you were born a girl.  Ecstatic.
But again, I never expected nor wanted you to suffer for it.  And it
*isn't* what made me love you.

(Amy nods, feeling a bit numb.)

AMY: (sardonic)  So what did?  My debonair good looks?  My expansive
vocabulary?

HELEN:  Isn't it just possible that *you* did?

(Amy raises a brow, finding Helen's answer both unsurprising and
completely unexpected.)

AMY:  And just what is it about me you found so irresistible?

HELEN: (looks away, remembering)  You were born at a time when our family
was at its worst.  We were trying to settle into Rutherford and Dad was
taking over the family business.  Everyone was so stressed out and anxious
and upset.  And there you were: this sweet smiling little baby.

AMY: (wry)  So you loved me because I was an escape?  I feel much better now.

HELEN: (mild)  *Oh*, there's more to it than that.  Escape or not, it
wouldn't have made a difference.  You won me over.

(Amy's face softens.)

HELEN: (tender)  You were a little imp -- that's never changed.  You
were also so bright and happy and curious about everything.  You never
wasted any time whining when you could be off exploring some uncharted
part of the living room where you weren't allowed.  Maybe that's
how all babies are, but just the same: you won me over.

AMY: (wistful)  I think I'd have won myself over.

(For a moment, Helen's face takes on a pained expression that Amy doesn't
see.)

HELEN:  Yes, you and I had some good times together.  You were so small, I
spent a lot of time with you because you seemed to need my protection.
But surprise, surprise: a lot of the time you guided me.  (reflective.)
You would laugh, and it would take me outside of myself.  You were so
amazed by the commonest things, things I wouldn't have looked twice at.

(Helen turns to her sister with shy gratitude.)

HELEN:  It's because of you I first wanted to be a mother, and everything
I've managed to do *right* with my girls, I believe is because of you, too.

AMY:  You're just desperate for some future favor from me, aren't you?

HELEN: (raises a brow)  Perhaps.

(Amy tilts her head to the side, her face now pinched.  She swallows hard.)

AMY:  Helen... why didn't you ever say anything?

HELEN: I don't know if I even realized it until now.  (smiles faintly.)
And I think there was once a time I didn't need to tell you.

(Amy smiles sadly, sensing the truth behind Helen's words.)

AMY:  And what happened?  (careful, mindful of her sister's emotional
state.)  I grew up, and you got busier and went off on your own?

HELEN: (pained, wry smile)  I "dropped the ball," remember?

AMY:  That was from *my* perspective as a child.  What really happened?

(Helen thinks, and as she does her face grows more solemn.)

HELEN:  Many things, I suppose.  I was getting older, facing college
and adulthood.  I had all these hopes, and now I had to see if I could
make them come true.  I wasn't sure I had what it took.

(Amy nods.  Helen glances at her, speaks with a bit more difficulty.)

HELEN:  And then there was you.  I watched you grow up from a happy
baby into a sullen, withdrawn child without any real idea what had
happened.  Oh, I'm quite sure our family life was enough to do it to
you.  But I thought I had been *careful*, that I had protected you
well enough.  (She speaks with passion, as though reliving it.)  It was
just so... it made me very sad.  I'm sure I thought it was all my fault.

AMY: (reflective)  So you started moving away...

HELEN:  Some of it was natural.  You know, a teenage girl trying to
spread her wings.  But some of it was fear.  That maybe your behavior
was my doing, and you were better off...

(Her voice trails off as she and Amy ponder the significance of this
revelation.)

HELEN: (softly)  I guess I never overcame those old anxieties, no
matter how old I got.

(The look on her face is clearly depressed.  Between this memory
and her current situation, she feels like she can't do anything
right.)

HELEN: (blinks back tears)  I'm sorry, Amy.

AMY:  It wasn't all your doing.  Remember?  I didn't turn deaf, dumb,
and blind as I got older.  I could have extended an olive branch.

(They pause in front of the pond, gazing out on the water.)

AMY: (quiet)  All those years in Highland, and I visited once.
Maybe twice.

HELEN: (rueful)  And you already know how often I came to see *you*.

AMY:  If it weren't for the travesty known as Erin's wedding, another
ten years might have passed before we saw each other again.

HELEN: (faint smile)  I doubt *that*.  There was the anniversary party,
remember?

AMY:  I only came because you and Daria helped make me a lot less
alienated from the family as a whole.

(Helen looks surprised, then a little relieved, as if she *has*
finally done something right.)

AMY: (subdued)  So how will we make sure we don't lose touch again?

HELEN:  I guess we can't make *absolutely* sure, can we?  All we
can do is try, more than we have.

(Amy nods, and thinks about what they just said.  She doesn't know
whether to trust that Helen was telling the truth about their childhood.
Or, once the crisis fades, whether they will become as distant as they
ever were.  At the same time, she *wants* to believe her sister.  Even
though Helen is flawed and self-absorbed, and often obnoxious, there
*is* enough of her that is worth believing in.  It also strikes Amy
that she, herself, did not grow up to be the person Helen had wanted,
but that hadn't stopped Helen from reaching out.)

HELEN: (looking down at her cell phone, angry)  So long as we can actually
get *through* to each other.  I can't believe you left *two* messages and
I didn't even know!  I think this thing is dying on me.

AMY:  Or maybe that's its way of letting you focus on the things in
front of you, for once.

(Helen gives her a half-smirk.  Then she and Amy see two figures in the
near distance.)

HELEN:  Is that Joel??

(Cut to close-up of Joel walking along a park path, followed closely by
Tad Gupty, who seems to have latched onto him as a companion.)

TAD: (cheerful innocence)  And they say, Mister, that the Big Strawberry
is the oldest living thing in Lawndale, even older than the *trees*!

JOEL: (annoyed, distracted)  That's nice.  Real nice, kid.

TAD:  If you make a wish and kiss its stalk, your wish will come *true*!
My parents once wished they could share their joy with *everyone*, and
then the nice people at PBS gave them their very *own* T.V. show!

JOEL:  You must be very proud.

TAD: (frowning)  I was.  Until a mean couple came on and made my parents
lose the T.V. show.  Then they said it was wrong to be swayed by the
hollow emptiness of a celebrity-driven medium, and they should return
to the *people* where they belonged.  So the Big Strawberry --

(Joel stops abruptly.)

JOEL:  You know, kid, it's strange.  Listening to you talk and talk and
talk is giving me cravings.

TAD:  Really?  (eyes grow wide.)  No.  You *wouldn't*!

JOEL:  Wouldn't I?

TAD: (horrified)  Not the Big Strawberry!

JOEL:  Why not?  I haven't been feeling too regular lately.

TAD:  Nooooo!  I won't let you!!

JOEL:  Then you'd better run and guard it.  I --

TAD:  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

(He bursts into tears and scrambles off.)

JOEL: (smirks faintly)  ...walk fast when I'm hungry.

(Cut to shot of Helen and Amy.  Amy shakes her head, mildly embarrassed.)

AMY:  Can't even leave him alone for an hour.

HELEN:  Not much of a child-person, is he?

AMY:  They say every twelve seconds, a new child on our block bursts
out crying.

(Helen suddenly puts a hand on Amy's arm and looks at her wistfully.)

HELEN:  Amy, I know we've pretty much said all that needed to be said.
But... I do hope you and Joel will stick around a bit longer.

(Amy recognizes Helen's need for support, and feels touched that she
still wants *her* support.  At the same time, she knows how rough
things will be for her nieces and wants to make things easier for
them, if at all possible.  Eager to be a better confidante the second
time around, Amy nods.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 14 (Morgendorffer residence, Monday night)

(Shot of the outside.)

JANE: (VO)  So how are you guys holding up?

(Close-up shot of Daria lying on her bed, talking to Jane on the phone,
looking utterly depressed through her usual deadpan.  Intercut between
her room and Jane's as they speak.)

DARIA:  Not too poorly.  Just trying to figure out who to hate more.
An hour ago, it was Mom.  Two hours ago, Dad.  Now I'd say they're
running about even.

JANE:  Yeesh.  I'm sorry.

DARIA:  What bothers me most is how *fast* it was, like they've been
working toward this for months.  They see each other, then *boom* next
morning: "Hey girls, thought you should know we're splitting up.  Here's
a big wad of cash in exchange for the rest of your carefree years."

(Cut to wider shot.  We see that Daria is watching her television -- with
a brand new Tivo box perched on top.  Quinn sits on the floor, going
through some magazines, too depressed to be alone in her own room.  At
Daria's words, her face puckers and she closes her eyes.)

JANE: (disbelief) Your parents thought *money* would help soften the blow?

DARIA:  Can't blame them, given that it's worked every other time. (pained.)
And given what they told us... about everything... money really *was* the
best thing about that damned trip.

(Jane sighs.)

JANE:  Daria, I know you didn't want this to happen.  If you need --

DARIA:  No really, I'm fine.  We both are.  My aunt Amy showed up with
her boyfriend, and she's been kind of a buffer.

JANE:  Famous Aunt drove all this way?  After your mom just got back
from *her* place?

DARIA:  To ease her sense of guilt -- over what she did or did *not* do
this weekend.

JANE:  You guys talk about it?

DARIA:  I didn't ask, so she didn't say.  Except to tell me that sometimes
she sees Mom as her sister first.  Whatever the hell that means.

(Jane cringes a little at the flatness of Daria's tone.)

DARIA: (same tone)  No seriously, it's been good.  She and Joel are spending
the night; I think they're in bed already.  We got some dinner, blew a
hundred bucks at the arcade.  Amy beat me at table hockey, but I whipped
her ass at Space Invaders.  Not to mention Joel -- for a computer nerd,
he can't play the classic games worth a crap.

JANE: (smiles wanly)  At least you finally had some fun.

DARIA:  Yeah, it's been been like a party.  The party you hold after
a funeral.

JANE:  Hmmm.

DARIA:  And the worst part of all?  Tomorrow's a school day.

JANE:  They're actually gonna make you and Quinn go??

DARIA:  No.  But for once it seems like the better alternative to
staying home.

JANE: (distressed)  Oh *geez*, Daria, you really ARE miserable!

(Realizing how dire she sounds, Daria straightens up and her face takes
on a more philosophical expression.)

JANE:  I mean God, after what I told you about being tolerant and your
parents love you and people are people, give them a chance, blah-blah,
I feel sort of really *bad* now.

DARIA:  Jane, in light of what I just said, this is gonna sound weird.
But I think I'm gonna be okay.

JANE:  You're not just saying that to boost my fragile spirits?

DARIA:  I thought I'd be, I don't know, crushed if I ever found out.
Like I couldn't go about my normal daily routine.  Instead, I feel
like I can keep things as normal as possible, considering.

JANE:  That's good to hear.

DARIA:  And try as I might, I can't do it.  I can't hate my parents.
(sighs.)  It's just too obvious that they want what's best for us and
can't stand what is happening.

(Shot of Quinn.  She lowers her magazine for a moment, the look
on her face showing that she is not as forgiving as Daria.)

DARIA:  And as much as I don't buy my dad's "adult's are just
overgrown children" excuse, I realize that there could come a time
when *I* might face this kind of dilemma.  If so, I would understand
if my loved ones hated my guts, but I'd hope they wouldn't.

JANE:  Wow.  That's pretty big of you.

DARIA:  Not really. (hint of emotion.)  I just don't want to lose them,
Jane.  I don't want to stop thinking I can come to them if I need
something.  They're my parents.

(She says it as though it's self-explanatory, and many ways it is.
Jane smiles, relieved that her friend seems to be coping better
than she feared.  A slight silence follows.)

JANE:  Some three-day weekend, huh?

DARIA:  Yeah.  Next one, remind me to book a flight to Tahiti.

JANE:  Where you'd "accidentally" lose your return flight ticket. Got it.

DARIA:  Who says there'd be a return flight?

(They say their "Later"s, and hang up the phone.  The silence in
Daria's room is now more heavy and somber.  Daria looks at the
phone, as if she wishes she could call Jane back, then sits with
her arms tucked behind her head, gazing at the ceiling.)

QUINN:  Daria?

DARIA: (startled)  Quinn. (She sits up, looks down at her.)  I almost
forgot you were there.

QUINN: (quiet)  Yep.  Still here.

DARIA: (after a slight pause)  You want to stay here?  For the night?

QUINN: (brightening)  Could I?

DARIA:  Sure.

QUINN:  Let me just go change...

(Quinn gets up quickly, as relieved that Daria invited her as
Daria is that she accepted.  Quinn opens the door, peers out to
make sure no adults are visible, and starts to pass through.  Then
something occurs to her, and she closes the door a little and
faces her sister.)

QUINN:  Daria, I'm glad we've, like, made up and everything.  'Cause
I would hate it if I were mad at Mom, Dad, *and* you.

DARIA:  It would make kennel care a more pleasing alternative.

QUINN:  And I'm glad I feel, you know, like I can trust you and stuff.

DARIA: (sincere)  Good.  I'm glad, too.

QUINN: (more meaningful look)  'Cause there are some things
I might want to tell you someday.  Someday *soon*, maybe.  About,
you know, personal stuff.

DARIA:  If it's about hair care disasters, or anything fashion-
related --

QUINN:  No, just the expected stuff.  Mom and Dad, my friends,
my admirers.  School, math, stuff like that.

(Daria sits up straighter, sensing a revelation is afoot.)

QUINN:  You know, nothing big.

(She smiles, then slips out into the hallway.)

DARIA: (softly)  You know I'll be here.



**********************
THE END

[roll the credits.........................
For some reason, I see "When You Believe" from _The Prince of Egypt_
playing right about now.]


COMMENTARY


It's been a long time.  I said December or January 2001, and it's
June 2002.  My long and detailed explanation: suffice it to say that
between September 2001 and June 2002, Real Life forced its way in,
making me write comedy spec scripts to enter in contests and co-write
an unfinished sci-fi screenplay whose future status is unknown.
And now it wants me back for more.  It tapped its foot impatiently
as my writing of "Memory Road" dragged on month after month, reminding
me that there were *more* contest and workshop deadlines that I need
to take note of.  That's when it hit me: the Driven Wild Universe has
become too much work.  There was once a time when the fanfics were so
hot in my brain, writing them took precedent over everything else.  It's
no coincidence that my first twelve DWUs were written in 1999, the year
I started.  Even then, I knew the day would come when I would have to
put real life first.  That time has come.  Now that "Memory Road" is
complete, I'm going to retire from "Daria" fanfiction writing.

Let me explain "retire."  It means I will quit fanfiction for a year or
more, then decide whether I feel it's worth it to come back and finish
the series.  The plot points will NOT be left dangling, as I will post
a detailed summary of the events in the remaining 1-2 episodes.  Plot
points still to address:

1. The biggie: What has Phelps been up to?

2. How Daria and Quinn cope with their parents being separated.  How
Helen and Jake cope.

3. What has Sandi been up to?

4. What's going to happen with the underground newspaper?  Yes, there
is a bit of unfinished business there.

The summaries, in what I call a "Wildfeed," will probably be done
in late summer or early fall, after I've finished an hour-long spec.
They will no doubt be detailed -- I want them to be good!  Also, they
will reveal that the Driven Wild Universe is meant to end on an upbeat
note, in contrast to the somberness that has pervaded the last few fics.

A part of me really is not happy about retirement.  The Driven Wild
Universe has arched so beautifully in its "season," better than I
expected, that I would love to see how it ends as much as you.  Plus,
I love working with the characters.  It's sad to think that I'll never
get to work with Helen, Quinn, Daria, Amy, or any of the others again.
Though I'm sure variations will show up in my own writings.

Another reason I have is more cynical.  I've seen enough authors "leave
the stage" that I've got a good sense of what happens.  Time passes, said
author fades from the scene, his/her work from the minds of fanfic readers,
who thirst for the "latest thing."  The value of the work depreciates.  I
suppose that's inevitable for most bodies of work, but that doesn't make
me feel better.  Especially since I've spent much of my "career" rubbing
up against fanfics of questionable taste and merit.

I was thinking of going on an extended rant about this subject, about how
too many fanfic readers, including the ones who call themselves "respectable,"
prove that they have nothing over the Average Joe when it comes to their
preferences.  And it's because of their lazy attitude toward entertainment
that crap like "Temptation Island" or its rip-offs linger on the air, while
quality fare gets cancelled before the season ends.  But I think I'll save
that for an essay on the subject, since it's too hard to elaborate in a
postscript.  Besides, I don't feel like incurring anyone's wrath right
now, since you still have to read through so much more to get to the end.

Suffice it to say, it will be a whole new experience to step out of the
nest of fanfiction, into the wider world of LaLa Land, where writing spec
scripts and searching for an agent is an art form in and of itself.  I
have a lot to learn, and I won't say that I'm not slightly intimidated.
At least I don't intend to leave "Daria" fandom.  It excites me to see
the way we've all stayed loyal to this show, to the extent where we
actually have an impact on the way it gets marketed to the general public.
(See Alan Benard's DVDaria site.)  I feel quite certain that if I do decide
to write the last two DWU fics, there *will* be a fandom out there to read
it.  Maybe not the same fandom, but still, a group of fans that likes the
show, and that's really all that matters.


Now on to actual commentary about "Memory Road"...

One thing I've noticed about character-driven dramedic series, like "Neon
Genesis: Evangelion" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," is that they reach a
point where the humor gets stripped away and everything turns dark.  The
dark themes lurking within the humorous framework stop being subtext and
become the text.  Once the dark themes are worked through in some way, the
humor returns, though not with the same innocence as before.

The Driven Wild Universe follows this pattern, with Episodes 18-20 probably
its darkest.  There will be some, I'm sure, who have mourned the lack of
funny and claim that I should have tried harder.  Interestingly enough,
that sounds like the same complaints many fans of the above shows had about
their dark periods ("Buffy": Season 6, "Eva": Episodes 23-26).  Yet if you
read through these DWU fics, you realize that there *are* several quippy
lines, just in the context they don't resonate as much.  These lines
don't serve to cut the tension, or create belly laughs.  Which brings me
to my point: sometimes humor doesn't *need* to be funny.  Sometimes
funny humor is counter-productive.  In a dramedy, humor often masks
darker themes, and needs to be pushed aside in order to deal with them.
Then why are the quippy lines still there?  To show that the characters
have maintained a shred of perspective, that they haven't become mushy-
minded angst balls.

Of course it would be easy to charge that characters in "Memory Road,"
especially Amy and Daria, have lost their usual perspective because
they dole out fewer quips. And it's true.  Amy and Daria are so used
to ironic detachment, to having perspective on *everything*, that any
"wallowing in the mud" is bound to have an effect on them.  In "Memory
Road," they are forced to confront their emotions and their problems
in a way that they never have before, and face-saving sarcasm will not
help them.  That does not mean they are no longer the same characters,
or that they will never return to form; it just means that, for now,
they are showing a different side of themselves.  I will go over that
more in a bit.


Helen, Amy, and Jake

I have no doubt that few of the characters, especially Helen, Amy,
and Jake, came across as likeable.  It's been interesting to note my
beta-readers' reactions to their behavior.  Many thought Helen
was in denial until the very end.  Some understood the reasons for the
split, others thought the logic behind it was weak and it would spell
doom.  Some thought it was Helen's fault; some thought it was her and
Jake's fault equally.  A couple were very hard on Amy.  I was not
surprised by the responses, since I knew the behavior in this fic was
messy and controversial.  While none of the characters had malicious
intentions, you could not call them admirable, either.

The characters' weaknesses do not reflect any hostility I feel toward
them.  (Well, maybe Jake, but any weakness I give him is an improvement.)
Helen is still my favorite character.  Amy would be my Mary Sue if
she weren't a pre-existing character and were, well, perfect.  The
characters are so weak and flawed because I love them so much.  I want
them to let it all hang out, because I trust they can come back from
anything.


Helen: In "An Uneasy Marriage," Greg tells Jake: "There's a lot of
fear in that woman.  A lot of pain and anger that she just doesn't
reveal."  "All But Forgotten" and "Memory Road" represent the first
time Helen has attempted to *deal* with these emotions, often
reluctantly.  What she is finding is how deep her anxiety goes, how
lengthy a history it has.  She realizes how powerless it made her in
the past, and that her present efforts to squelch it have brought
nothing but trouble.  At the same time, she does not quite know how
to cope with it.  Helen, by the end, is struggling to find what she
really needs and balance it with the needs of her family.  She
does not *know* if her and Jake's split was the best thing for them;
she can only guess.

Jake may have been the one who'd borne the brunt of Daria and Quinn's
rage in this fic, but don't think Helen will get off easily.  She will
be the parent living with them during the split, subject to their cold
shoulders and open resentment.


Amy:  As I said, this is probably the least ironic she has ever been
in the DWU, and possibly in all of fanfiction.  (Barring those weepers
where Amy turns out to be Daria's mother.)  She sees her alone time
with Helen as a rare opportunity to spill her guts, and thus is
more candid and emotional than she's used to being.  When confronted
by Joel, after her evasion maneuvers lead nowhere, Amy is forced to
be even more candid.  It doesn't mean that Quippy Amy will never return,
or that I have forgotten how to write funny lines.

My belief that Quippy Amy is mostly the product of fan fiction, anyway,
not the show itself.  In "I Don't," her quips were amusing, but how could
you *not* be funny in that type of situation?  In "Through a Lens Darkly,"
she was more frank than quippy, though she did get in some good lines:
"Well you're already going to hell..."  In "Aunt Nauseam," however, I will
go so far as to say she was *un*-quippy.  The only lines I remember are
the ones where she tells Daria to let Tom in emotionally, and when she
gets in a brou-haha with her sisters.  Both times, these lines were
sharp, but not funny.  In fact, I will go so far as to say the Daria
Rule applies to Amy as much as her "favorite niece": In a funny situation,
she is funny, but in a serious situation, she isn't.  Although I'll make
one exception for when Amy is around Daria.  Since Daria is usually so
serious, it would be hard not to seem lighter-hearted by comparison.

Also I will say, and people may charge otherwise, that in this fic, Amy
really did *not* intend to break up Helen and Jake's marriage.  She just
wanted Helen to be honest about her feelings toward Greg.  However, that
honesty could have driven Helen toward a break-up, a fact that Amy did
her best to ignore because she was so eager for Helen to point the way
toward her own salvation.  Helen has a right to be angry at her sister
for her motives, though the only real damage Amy has done is force her
to admit to things that were already there.

For final clarification: in the DWU, Helen is ten years older than Amy.
(On the show, it is undetermined.)  At ten to twelve years old, she
would have been old enough to change diapers on occasion and have
faintly maternal feelings toward her baby sis.  Helen and Amy's
"closeness" probably would have been in place for the first six or
seven years of Amy's life, until teenage Helen started to pull away.


Jake:  Some (Hi, KnightHawke!) have charged that I have made Helen
look worse and Jake look better in my continuum.  And so I have.
To me, Wise Empathetic Helen and Cartoon Jake from the show are so
grossly mismatched, they have no right to still be married.  Therefore,
in my continuum I've taken pains to make both of them more human,
giving more yang to Helen and more ying to Jake.  As I've stated above,
I am not looking to punish one and reward the other.  Yes, Helen from
the show strikes me as rather smug, full of questionable assumptions
that I have poked holes in with my fanfics, but it's because she's so
blind and complicated that I love her.  Jake, on the other hand, is a
nasty doofus no matter how I try to dress him up.  Even though he
may come across as more hapless and sympathetic in this fic, I blame
him equally for the split.

Helen kissed Greg first, but Jake didn't know that when he started
doing his own thing and when he met "the other woman."  He noted that
she was distant, but did not try to find out what was wrong before
he pulled away (as he laments in Act Two).

If his admission that he met "someone" seems rather sudden, it's
meant to, just like Daria and Quinn's discovery that he teaches
classes.  It's both a way to capitalize on suspense, and to make
the readers feel what Daria and Quinn must be feeling.  It isn't
because I wanted to let Helen off the hook for kissing Greg.  I
had always planned for there to be an extra, not-so-nice twist
to Jake's secret life.  What stumped me was exactly *what* kind of
twist.  Making him gay would be too horribly cliche and go against
what we know of his character.  Anything else seemed unseemly and
corrupt.  Finally I went with the tried-and-true secret affair,
thinking that then Daria could express righteous anger over the
fact that Jake made them worry *more* by not telling them, and for
no good reason other than, of course, his own fear.

Basically, Jake's reasons for not telling his daughters about the
teaching were true (i.e. their poor attitude toward teachers), except
for the quasi would-be affair.  That was unmentioned because Jake
didn't want to believe it *was* an affair.  He just wanted to think
he was having a nice time with a nice woman who liked him, and that
it would not affect his home life in any way.  Jake really does love
Helen, just as she loves him, and he wouldn't want to hurt her
so badly by admitting an affair.  If Helen hadn't urged him to be
honest about his feelings, Jake probably would have stayed to work
things out.  Even so, his love is based more on habit and history
than on feeling like he and Helen have things in common, and he
knows that taking a step further with this woman might bring him
satisfaction that has thus far eluded him.

Of course, there's the problem of how this would affect his daughters.
I can see Jake guiltily assuring them at every turn: "No matter what,
girls, ol' Dad's always gonna love you!  I'll always be there for you!"
To which Daria and Quinn would respond with well-earned cynicism.


Daria and Quinn

Daria:  Like Amy, she is very unsarcastic, her least sarcastic since
"In Her Own Words."  I'm actually surprised more people didn't give
me a hard time for that fic.  But maybe it's because Daria had a
staring role, whereas <GASP> she doesn't in this one.  In any case,
Daria's more direct speech in "Memory Road" is the result of her
realizing that she has to confront what she has been trying to avoid
since "In Her Own Words," that she has to draw upon whatever sharp,
unyielding reporter qualities she has -- the qualities she used to
seek out Vince and confront Damien -- to get the answers she needs.
She will find herself growing more comfortable with this role, if
never completely comfortable.  Certainly her confrontation with Jake
represented her most painful outing.  Quippy sarcastic Daria will return,
however, if I ever write the last two.  Though because of some of the
dramatic material left to resolve, neither of the fics will be rip-
roaring hilarity.


Quinn:  Like Helen, she exists in a state of partial denial in this
episode, telling herself that everything can be fixed if she helps
Jake work at it.  However, unlike Helen, Quinn was not partially at
fault for the marital rift, and thus was probably the most badly burned
character in this episode.  What hurts most is that Quinn has such
great faith in her "doer" qualities, she never thought that they
wouldn't be enough, and feels that Jake, in a sense, subverted them
by not admitting sooner that he was seeing someone.  On a more positive
note, Quinn feels closer to Daria now than she ever has in the DWU,
and possibly the series.  For Daria to "betray" that trust could
have major consequences...

Frankly, I don't know if I wrote Daria and Quinn as overreacting or
underreacting to Jake's news, or to their parents' split.  Those scenes
were definitely some of the more challenging to write.  In the last
scene, I wanted to give the sense that Daria and Quinn were in pain,
and that Daria was doing her best to cope with an absolutely horrible
situation.  Hopefully, it read well.


Daria on Quinn's intelligence: I meant for her attitude in these fics to
tie in with how she feels toward Quinn in the regular series.  In the
regular series, Quinn starts to show hints of real intelligence in
"Is It Fall Yet?" and episodes of Season Five.  Especially "Lucky
Strike," the episode in which Daria subs for Quinn's English class
(a plot with holes you could drive a truck through).  Quinn discovers
she actually knows Shakespeare and can analyze it effectively on an
essay test Daria gives.  Daria rewards her with a B+ and hints that
Quinn was a good student who made her teaching effort worthwhile.  So
on the surface, this would seem to clash with Daria's reaction to
Quinn's intelligence in the DWU.  Except...

Quinn in the series never showed the level of excellence in a school
related subject the way she shows in the DWU.  Therefore Daria never
had the chance to feel threatened, never had to figure out how to live
with it.  Even though Daria makes some promising strides in "Memory
Road," she *still* will have a hard time accepting Quinn's intelligence,
an issue that can be exploited.  I've always wondered why Daria in
"Lucky Strike" never gave Quinn an A-...


Final Thoughts

Firstly, is Amy preggers?  In a word, *yes*.  By the end of the fic,
she still doesn't know (or else she wouldn't have chugged a beer with
dinner in "All But Forgotten"!).  I will not cop out and say that
her emotional outbursts were the result of *mood swings*.  I also did
not make her pregnant to cause more tension between her and Joel.  Joel
will be pleased by the news, and Amy, herself, will be happier than
she would have expected.  And I did not make her pregnant as a way of
saying that the only healthy, progressive relationships are the ones
that yield children.  Amy is just pregnant.  It will be a major change
she'll have to adjust to in her life, nothing more.

Frankly, I'm shocked there are no fanfics in which Amy has a baby
who *isn't* Daria.  Or Quinn.  Or Jane.  Or any other pre-existing
Lawndalite.

I cut the tag I planned originally, where Amy learns that she's pregnant,
because I felt like it took away from the somber, sensitive Daria and
Quinn moment.  Even so, I would have brought it up in one of the
final episodes.  I see a conversation between Amy and Daria on the
phone, where Daria quips with disbelief: "You?  A mother?"  I also
see Helen counseling Amy in another phone call about what to expect,
offering all sorts of unsolicited advice.  I was somewhat disappointed
about cutting the tag in one respect: it would have been a great
bookend for the episode.  The episode opens with a flashback of Helen
worrying about the yet unborn Amy.  It ends with a flash-forward,
where Amy is now pregnant and wondering about the future.


If I could do it all over again: I would add some more breadth to
the relationships in each fanfic in the Helen/Amy arc.  Like in TTTC,
I might mention somewhere that Amy and Helen had had a close
relationship when they were very young, before they could relate to
each other as people.  I might also change Amy's initial behavior
regarding Joel; hiding him from the family seems a little juvenile.
I'm very tempted to go back and tinker, but a part of me wants to leave
things as is, to show the maturation of the story over time.  It really
is a case of the story growing and growing inside my head, once the
seed was planted.  Besides, real T.V. shows don't have the luxury of
going back, although I'm sure many wish they could.

Even though this technically isn't the last DWU of the series, it
is the last to feature Amy in a prominent role or significant
Helen/Amy interaction.  One of my beta-readers felt that their
relationship troubles had been solved too neatly, that there ought
to be a sign of future discord.  Here's how I see it: by the end,
Helen and Amy are so damn tired of fighting, and recognize that the
Morgendorffer family problems supercede their own differences, that
they call a truce -- not unlike the one Daria and Quinn called before
they confronted Jake.  That does not mean they will never have problems
again, or that they won't deal with the messy issues that were brought
up in their fight ending Act Two.  As I said, "Just because you don't
see a flame, don't assume there's no fire."  One difference, though,
is that I think Helen and Amy *will* be much more willing to discuss
it than to beat around the bush and then get into an argument.  If
there were a Driven Wild Universe Season Two, I think we would see
more fun scenes between the Barksdale sisters, a la their creaming
of Upchuck and the humiliation of Linda Griffin in "The Tie That
Chokes."  Less angst, more hanging out.  Or hell, maybe Season Two
would be The Year of Getting to Know Rita, which would mean a *new*
source of angst!  But I hope not... I could use a little more fun.

I'll tell you, though I'm sure you guessed, that writing this fic
took a lot out of me.  More than 20 pages longer than the second-
longest ("In Her Own Words") and emotion, emotion, emotion that I
had to play right without going overboard.  Many times I struggled
with the structure, with just how to weave the Helen/Amy/Joel plotline
around the Daria/Quinn/Jake one.  Let's put it this way: Act One
of "All But Forgotten" took me two days to write.  Act One of "Memory
Road" took *three* re-writes.  The Helen and Amy fight ending Act
Two set a record, taking me two *weeks* to write.  There were so
many issues I wanted to touch on and the whole thing seemed to jump
all over the place at first.  By the end, I was tired of the angst,
tired of seeing Helen and Amy bitch, and feeling sad that this did
not have a happy ending.  Nonetheless, I am pleased with this effort.


**Points of Interest**

Chronology of the Driven Wild Universe:  Don't even try to figure it
out.  I stopped thinking about which month or year a certain fic
took place in a long time ago.  Although "Of Absolute Value" states
that Quinn is a sophomore, I think it's safe to say she's a junior
now, and that Daria is a senior, like on the show.  It's hardly a
stretch, given that they get the *same* teachers every year.  Meanwhile,
Amy and Joel have lived together for at least six months -- enough
time for them to get together, for everything to be great ("Erin the Head"),
for them to visit Grandma Barksdale, and for Amy to fall into a rut.
Also, I believe the year Daria graduated in "Is It College Yet?" was
2000, yet here I've tossed in a couple of references to 2001-2002 -- "The
Osbournes" and Tivo.  Go figure.

Half and Half:  When I wrote the "None in the Family" two-parter, I
wrote a draft of the second half before I polished up the first half
and sent it out.  With "All But Forgotten"/"Memory Road," I wrote the
first half and sent it out, while having vague ideas about where to go
in the second half.  Some things I knew for certain: Helen and Amy
would have a huge fight, Daria and Quinn would learn about a twist
to Jake's private life, that Helen and Jake *might* split up, and there
would be tenderness and tears galore by the end.  However, a part of me
wishes I had written the draft for "Memory Road" before releasing "All
But Forgotten" -- first, because I wouldn't have gotten into this mess
of releasing a second part months and *months* after the first part.
Second, because I could have worked up the hints in the first part more:
the "object" that Helen sees in Act One of ABF that makes her decide to
stay at Amy's longer, the nature of the "clinic" that Joel and Amy refer
to in ABF, that Jake could have something more going on than he suggests
to Daria and Quinn in ABF Act Three.  Because I couldn't go back and
do that, this doesn't feel like as seamless a two-parter as NITF.

Allusions to the Episodes:  The "Academic Imprisonment" essay was from
"Quinn the Brain."  The town "[bursting] into song when the weather
fluctuates" was from "Daria! (The Musical)."  And the "travesty that was
Erin's wedding" was, of course, from "I Don't."

Daria's Recap at the Beginning: Daria's recap was meant to be a
spoof of some of the "Previously"s we see on T.V. shows, where they
recount EVERY SINGLE PLOT POINT that's gone on since the show began.
Most guilty: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer."  Also, it was an excuse
to remind people who either haven't read all of the DWUs, or
haven't read them for a while, what has happened.

Smile vs. Smirk: If you haven't noticed, Amy is shown as "smiling"
much more in this two-parter than in past fics, which had her
"smirking."  It represents emotional barriers that are starting to
come down, especially around Joel and Helen.  But you guessed that
already, didn't you?

Amy/Jake Parallels?:  Amy's rage about her father brought her perilously
close to Jake/Mad Dog territory.  Yet I would say Amy is different in
a couple of key ways.  First, she did not spend her adult life actively
resenting her father.  While she was never on the best of terms with
him, she did not feel any sort of real rage until "None in the Family."
Once that rage was uncorked, she started thinking about it more and more.
However -- and this is a second key point -- she knows better than to
blame her father for what she lacks as an adult.  Yes, there is the
scene ending Act Two where she does, but mostly because she is hurt and
angry at the time.  When she thinks about it later, she places the blame
on her own shoulders.

Four-letter words: The original draft of "Memory Road" had two mentions
of the infamous f-word and a couple more of the less-infamous a-h word.
Beta-readers immediately picked up on that and started making "Hmmm"
noises, so I cut back a little.  But I left in one use of the f-word,
when Amy is talking with Joel in Act Three.  My reasons for strong
language, whereas before the strongest language within the DWU was
PG-13?  The way I see it, it's not Daria and Jane talking in the hallway,
or Kevin and Brittany in O'Neill's class.  It's Amy and Joel, who are
as close to an HBO couple as there is in this series.  On HBO programs,
the characters use all kinds of language with ease.  Amy and Joel's
swearing is my way of saying "You're not in Kansas, anymore."  Helen's
visit to their place represents a sort of cross-over into a different
environment, even a different show.  At the same time, Amy's angry
response to Joel does not seem too different from Daria's "Screw you!"
to Tom in "Is It College Yet?"  The voracity of Amy's response reveals
how shocked and insulted she was by Joel's assumption that she planned
to kick him out.

"Just you and your father": I just wanted to clear up a potential
Oops.  Amy mentions in Part One that Joel has a brother; what happened
was that when his parents split, his brother went to live with his
mother and he stayed with his father.  The line of dialogue explaining
that got cut from this fic.

Anne: I think John Takis came up with this middle name for "A Mother
in Spite of Herself."  And I think I gave him credit in "The Age of
Cynicism."  However, since I never finished that fic, I think it's
best that I repeat the gesture.

Princeton grad: You know I almost thought of listing Amy's alma mater
as Crestmore.  But then I thought: Hey, maybe the Eichler team likes
to make up place names, but that doesn't mean *I* have to.

"another show with my name in the title...": Another reference to
"Abruptly Amy."  I can't help it; it's so much fun to cross the two
shows over! ; >  But then again, it could also be a reference to the
dreadful "Judging Amy."

"All-Girl Punk Band":  Amy's reference to the band she joined during
her "piss off [her] parents as much as possible" college phase is a
shout-out to Invisigoth Gypsy for her fanfic "Silver Goddess."
"Silver Goddess" is one of the few fics staring Amy that actually
gives her an identity apart from Daria.  I changed the type of music
from Bangles to punk because I suspect Amy attended college in the
early 80's.

"Red Spitfire Instead of a Black One":  Thank you, D.T. Dey, for
discovering that Amy's red baby is a Triumph Spitfire.  I probably
would have guessed an Alfa Romeo.

Joel/Tom:  Oh please, *please* tell me that Joel came across as
marginally more interesting than Tom!  I actually found Tom to be
sort of interesting in "Is It College Yet?", but otherwise, they'd
utterly failed to develop him.  Joel probably seems like a bit of
a cipher, but then again, "All But Forgotten" was the first episode
where he had something approaching a major role.

"Giant Strawberry": As mentioned in the Daria Diaries and the Paperpusher's
"Her Uh Cane," there really is a Big Strawberry in Lawndale.  The part
about it playing "Strawberry Fields Forever" was my addition.  Since the
strawberry is pictured as being away from the center of town, my belief
is that Joel hadn't gone there yet before he ran into Tad Gupty.

Amy's Sarcastic Aunt: A lot of flashbacking, and no reference to Amy's
Aunt Eleanor, a creation of C.E. Forman who has been adopted by several
other fanfic authors.  She was mentioned in "None in the Family" as
someone whom Amy was close to when she was younger, who came between
Amy and her mother.  Why no mention?  <shrug>  I just couldn't think of
a way that didn't sound gratuitous.  Plus, I feel odd about using fanfic
authors' characters when said authors are no longer around.  Plus, the
time period that Amy and Helen refer to in this fic takes place over the
first half-dozen or so of Amy's years, and the flashbacks in C.E.'s
"Alienation Legacy" show Amy at about nine years old.  The way I figure
it, Amy didn't really grow close to her cynical aunt until Helen drifted
away which caused Amy to become thoroughly alienated from her immediate
family.  See, I care about gratuitous continuity, people! ; >

Where art thou, Rita?:  Adult Rita was a big no-show and barely mentioned
in this two-parter.  That was fitting, as the real conflict in this
continuum has been between Helen and Amy.  However, since Rita expressed
resentment toward their bond in "None in the Family, Part Two," one wonders
how she would have reacted to Helen's dash to Amy's place.  I suspect not
well.  She would have been jealous, especially since *she*, Rita, is the
one who understands marital crises, not the ne'er married Amy.  I also think
Helen and Amy would be too smart to tell her they met up.  So instead, Rita
will probably learn about Helen's split directly from Helen or, more likely,
from their mother, and offer words that are both sympathetic and gloating.


And for the last Point of Interest, how could I resist? Thoughts on
Daria Episode 510, "Aunt Nauseam":

Overall, I was disappointed with it.  Once again, Amy shows up for all of
three minutes... in the third act of the episode, no less.  Almost
nothing new is revealed about her and Rita, except for the fact that Amy
read Russian novels and Rita's wedding was 6 months before Helen's and
had a disco theme.  There were some good moments, like when Helen calls
Amy on her "No one ever paid attention to ME" lament, or when Amy gets
drawn into the big fight, or when Rita says to Helen: "You couldn't make
us look lazy enough!  And you wanted encouragement to do *more*?", or when
Daria slams the door on Tom, but anyway... I'd rather make a list of things
I found lacking.

1) Amy, whaddey do to you??  Not only was her face drawn differently,
but it's like they deliberately went out of their way to make her
less youthful and attractive. <Sandi voice> Bulky sweater and sensible
shoes?  She must have suffered through some terrible illness to
get so skinny.

Something about her voice was strange, too.  It lacked the lilt of
her previous appearances.  I suspect part of this was because Daria's
own voice grew more deadpan over the last few seasons, but Amy's
sounded too deadpan.

2) I worked so hard to make it seem like Amy had a life that wasn't
just lying on the couch reading, waiting for Daria to call.  Then, in
her first appearance in over two years, what do they have her do?!

3) Why would Amy drive all the way to Daria's house when a phone
call to Helen and Rita could have worked just as well?  For that
matter, why would she even think her words would have an effect,
given her history?  I suspect she was just overcome by flattery
that Daria wanted her help, but it still doesn't add up.

4) The fighting was weak.  Tired, even.  After seeing Helen at the
beginning of "I Don't," I expected screaming and tears.  As for the
resolution, when Daria and Quinn imitated their mother and aunts,
it seemed pointless.  Helen already *knew* how ridiculous the fighting
was; the heart of the matter was *why* they continued to hurt each
other, not that they looked foolish.

5) Rita's excuse for staying at the Morgendorffer house was silly:
weren't there any hotels near her residence?

6) Daria and Quinn's reasons for sticking around the house were even
sillier.  Rita was only going to be there a week; hence the fighting
would only last a week.  Why this desire to moderate, unless they
honestly believed that Helen and Rita would get violent?  If not, it
seems odd that neither pulled a Jake and went hiding out at a friend's
for a week until the coast was clear.  (And sheesh, Jake!  It's bad
enough you gave babies a bad name with your immature disappearing act,
but don't you have any friends you could have stayed with??)

7) Amy's advice for Daria to "let Tom in" seems rather odd now in
light of the events of "Is It College Yet?".

And the hugging?  Eh.  I didn't expect any part of "Aunt Nauseam" to
have the heartfelt angst of this two-parter, but I never thought they
would pull such a "Full House" maneuver.  Things were only resolved
in the most facile, shallow fashion, and on a show like "Daria," I
would have expected if not better, at least a nod to the fact that
things probably would *not* change between the Barksdales.  Overall,
the episode had too many filler subplots (Jake hiding out; the
matching dress; Tom's concern; the Civil War parallels beaten over
our heads) and not enough meat, and sort of just collapsed under its
own weight.  I expected the aunts would get a second chance in "Is
It College Yet?", and was disappointed when none of Daria's extended
family showed up for her graduation.  Not even a gift or a card?

The "Daria" writers probably never saw Amy as anything more than a nifty
plot device, a *wink, wink* *nudge, nudge* to how much Daria and Quinn
resembled their family.  Her popularity and rise to mentor status
probably took them by surprise.  And given that they had no plans for
Daria to remain stuck in her anti-social mode with someone of a similar
type, they didn't really know what to do with Amy.  They certainly
didn't see her as a separate character in her own right, or even as
someone who could serve as a cautionary tale for Daria.  Instead, it
was like: "Okay, the fans want to see her.  Let's remind them that
Amy isn't a savior and that Daria is mature enough to think for herself."
Actually, that's what I find most amusing about "Aunt Nauseam": nowhere
in the *text* of the series do we get the idea that Amy can "save
the day."  That notion was completely the result of fan speculation, so
the writers were answering the fans through the events of the episode.
See guys, we *do* matter!


Now time for **The Mysteries Of**

Let's make this Hollywood-themed.  Okay, just how long would a "Daria"
fic have to be to equal the size of a half-hour script?

It's difficult to say, because there are two types of scripts: one
for single cameras ("Malcolm in the Middle") and ones for three cameras
("Friends," "Drew Carey").  The single camera scripts are single-spaced
and are usually about 32 pages, while the three camera scripts are
double-spaced, and in some cases in all capitals, for whatever reason.
Those are usually around 45-50 pages.  Plus, you factor in that real
scripts have dialogue in the center, not running from left to right like
our fic scripts.

I've found that I can fit more onto a page in a Microsoft Word text
document than I can on a page of Final Draft Pro, the scriptwriting
software.  Therefore, a 30 page fic is *longer* than a 30 page script.
I remember when I was trying to refurbish "Breaking the Mold" for a
sitcom contest, I had to hack and hack and hack in order to get it
within the minimal acceptable length -- and that one wasn't even my
longest!  So overall... I would guess that a fanfic script written in
text would need to be around 60K to equal the size of a script.  And
that's maximum, I suspect, because producers like to read things that
are as brief as possible.  However, I regret to inform you that even
the fics that most faithfully follow sitcom format would not be
mistaken for a script if they were dropped in the street and found
by a producer. ; >  I know that used to be the fanfic writers' dream,
and it disheartens me to burst that bubble.


**Oops!**

Okay, so I was wrong!  I said Phelps would not be referred to in #19 or
#20, and he was referred to in both.  What can I say?  I love the man. ; >

I also ought to explain why Jake has not reacted more to Phelps, in spite
of him knowing about some of his shifty dealings through DeMartino.  It's
mainly because Jake only knows about his school politics, not that he
could be corrupting Quinn.  If he suspected the latter... gah gah dammit!!
Also, Jake tends to be just slightly self-absorbed and clueless on occasion.

A second oops: Daria calls Amy on her cell phone in Act Two of "All But
Forgotten" to confirm that Helen is staying with her aunt.  Daria mentions
that she called Helen's work number several times and received no answer.
Why didn't Daria try to call Helen on her cell phone?  Actually, there is
an explanation that makes sense.  Helen could answer her cell phone from
anywhere, whereas the work phone would confirm her location.

A mini-oops: In Act One of "All But Forgotten," Helen gets extremely
distressed to see that she is on the Interstate instead of the merge
leading to Downtown Lawndale.  Yet in "An Uneasy Marriage," Jake rants
about getting cut off while on the "interstate," like being on the
Interstate is no big deal.  My logic: maybe Jake needs to take that
freeway to work (from "Daria!", we know that he does take a freeway),
whereas Helen doesn't.  Similar to how I have to take Interstate 5 to
get to my sister's place, but not otherwise...


Acknowledgements

I don't normally use beta-readers, except when I want to see how what
I wrote came across.  Even then, I just want their reactions, not
their suggestions.  This time, anticipating that this could be my
last fic and that it contained a development even more significant than
in "Charge of the Math Brigade," I asked for some help.  I got eleven
volunteers, more than I'd ever expected.  I think some thought that
this was the last of the series, and so were eager to be a part of
"history," as it were.  <blush>  Sorry to disappoint you.

Anyway, let me give thanks to my beta group: Brother Grimace, Chad
Page, crusading saint, Galen Hardesty, Robert Nowall, Roger E. Moore,
Steven Galloway, thea zara, Thomas, Warpedkjh13, and Wyvern.  Your many,
comments were extremely helpful, even if I didn't use all of them.
Oh who am I kidding?  They drove me nuts, people, NUTS!  So many, so
different, so sensible.  You *wanted* to drive me insane, didn't you??
DIDN'T YOU?!  <deep breath>  Oh, and thanks again. ; >

Also, even though many of you have gone off to a better place (or just a
different place), I'd like to thank the people who have offered me advice
and encouragement on my fics over the past three years.


Wow, I can't believe I've reached the end of the postscript.  It's about
time.  I feel as though I should play a song in honor of the occasion.
How about the Beatles' "The Long and Winding Road..."

The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here
Leads me to your door...

Thanks for reading!

This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright June 2002.  All
rights reserved.