Northern Exposure s03e01 Episode Script

The Bumpy Road to Love

Until today, we can only see Rick through the hazy blur of memory, a fading image in the mind's eye.
But now, we have something solid, something tangible, that says, "Hey, everybody, lookee here.
It's me, Rick.
'" And who do we have to thank for that? Maggie.
I think you all know she commissioned this statue which is so, uh- It's almost lifelike.
All right, lookee, why don't we pause for a moment of silence, kinda send Rick our thoughts, wherever he is.
And, you know, who knows? Maybe - Maybe he's gonna receive them, all right? Heads down.
Rick, our thoughts to you, buddy.
Okay, Fleischman, okay.
Okay, Fleischman, okay, what? I know what you're thinking.
No, you don't.
Yes, I do.
You think it looks like a hood ornament.
How'd you know? Because you would think a thing like that.
Because, well, it does.
It was supposed to be dignified and regal.
And instead, it looks like a- A hood ornament.
Spare me the sympathy, Fleischman.
You think I did this out of some misguided sense of guilt.
Well, Rick's death was an accident.
I'm an innocent bystander.
Did I say anything, O'Connell? I didn't say anything.
Joel? You wanted to say something? Me? Uh, you mean about Rick? Um- Uh, uh, we had a few beers, you know.
I, um- I removed a mole.
Well, I guess if nobody has anything further to add, we, uh- Excuse me.
I'd like to say something.
Okay.
Come on up.
Hi.
My name's Joanne.
You don't know me, but I feel like I know you.
Rick talked about you quite a bit.
Cicely had a special place in his heart.
And I know today would have meant so much to him.
Rick had his faults like everybody else, but basically he was a really good guy.
I miss our walks.
The way he cooked sloppyjoes.
Those zestful morning showers together.
I miss you, sweetheart.
Woman drives 350 miles, takes only long enough to down a quart of Gatorade and then she brings in a target even cleaner than mine.
It's all in the wrist grip.
You don't say? Stops the recoil.
Here, I'll show you.
Yeah.
Left hand supports the right.
I can't tell you what seeing you handle a sidearm means to me, Barbara.
The way you take its measure.
The way your hand caresses the grip.
The way your strong, supple fingers encircle the trigger.
Was it fate, Barbara? How's that? If my radio hadn't been stolen, if I hadn't insisted they send down law enforcement, I never would have met you.
How about showing me your Brownie? Now? Go for it.
Nine millies, 13 shots.
Brilliant.
I've got something else here you might appreciate.
Twin Browning, nine millies.
I had it engraved.
It's all yours, Barbara.
Tony let me fire his SIG-Sauer P226 once, but this- this is the finest firearm ever made, Maurice.
Tony? A trooper on the force.
I see.
My God, feel the balance in this puppy.
I get the Cicely News and World Telegram, and when I read about the statue, I felt I had to come.
It was like I needed to say good-bye to Rick.
Do you know what I mean? Sure.
Um- Now, so you met Rick last summer.
Summer before last.
Right.
That's what he said.
What? What? What's what he said? Well, he said that he met a very interesting woman in, um- Juneau.
Juneau.
Uh, yeah.
And you guys met at the, um- Store.
The store.
My store.
Your store? Rick loved Inuit skin sewing.
For a layman, he was incredibly knowledgeable about native Alaskan crafts.
Rick? My Rick? Our- Our Rick loved Indian crafts? Listen, this is kind of awkward.
Rick did tell you about me? Look, he told me, okay? It's not a problem.
We had a very understanding relationship.
Very understanding.
Very, um- Open.
Yes, open.
That's what he said.
I brought you some things.
His gloves.
I gave him these for Christmas.
I thought you might wanna have 'em.
And I believe this is yours.
My Opium? It's a bit strong for my taste.
I like something in the more delicate side.
- Caleche.
- Yes! - He gave you my Caleche? - Last Christmas.
You didn't know about me, did you? You know, l-I just don't get it.
We shared his gloves, his perfume, his, uh, everything.
You didn't mind? I wasn't looking for any kind of commitment, and Rick wasn't a commitment kind of guy.
So, in a way, it was a relief.
So, it didn't bother you in the least that there were two of us? Two? The tradition of the toast hearkens back to 17 th-century England when, uh, the success or health of a new venture was, uh, christened by a drink of wine with a piece of toast submerged in it.
Over time, we've dispensed with the actual toasted bread, but the intent remains the same.
Thus, it is, I would like to lift my glass to bless your union.
And wish you every future happiness.
- Well, thank you, Maurice.
- Hear! Hear! - Yeah! Yeah! - Holling, I have to admit that for a long time, I have, uh, slightly resented your happiness.
I felt that it may have been captured, to some extent, at my expense.
I didn't mean to dump you, Maurice.
Oh, believe me, Shelly, you did me the greatest favor you could have possibly done.
I admit, I was bereft.
- Bereft? - Sense of loss.
Destitution.
As foolish as it now seems, at the time, I thought my heart would never mend.
But that was before I knew - what real happiness awaited me.
- Real happiness? Oh, you and I had an undeniable fun, Shelly, but, uh, you can't- you can't compare Rollerblading to crouching in a duck blind with a shotgun next to your cheek.
How come we never go to duck blinds? You wanna sit in a duck blind? How do I know if you never ask me? I'd like to propose another toast.
To our guest of honor whose healing presence is responsible for this gathering.
To Officer Barbara Semanski, who didn't find my radio, but who captured my heart.
Ed? Wh-Who's there? Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? Hello? Oh, my God.
! Adam? No, it's the Fuller Brush man.
Well, you have to creep around on a person's porch? You can't knock? Hey, after three years in the D.
M.
Z.
, recon is second nature, my friend.
Open the door.
Do you realize the humiliation that you cost me last year? Nobody believed me.
Oh, I said, "Yeah, I saw Adam, Cicely's own Bigfoot.
Mr.
Sasquatch.
He cooked me pot stickers and Szechuan chicken in a wok in the middle of nowhere.
I bring 'em out to your shack.
You clean the place out - lock, stock and Cuisinart.
What do you want? It's after midnight.
Oh, forgive me.
My visit is untimely.
But correct if I'm wrong- you did claim to be a doctor.
- Well, are you sick? - No, it's my better half.
Your better half? What, you're married? You never said you were married.
Oh, did I neglect to give you my curriculum vitae? Yes, I have a wife.
Well, how come I didn't see her? What-What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? - She was in Baden-Baden.
- Baden-Baden.
As in Germany? Well, do you know another Baden-Baden? She was taking the baths.
I had to leave without saying good-bye because I was in a rush to hook up with her in Tuscany.
Oh, Tuscany.
Italy.
Fiesole, actually.
l-I had to sharpen up my pasta skills.
Can we go now? Y-You really think I'm going out in the middle of the night? I'm gonna follow a pathological liar into the woods to treat a wife, who by any reasoning person's assessment is a figment of said maniac's imagination? Put that down.
Excuse me, put that down right now.
Would you rather be snapped in two like a twig? Excuse me.
Put that- I said put that down.
Right this instant, Adam.
Hey, Adam, come back here right now! Adam! So, Adam, this alleged wife of yours - Her name's Eve.
You're kidding.
Your wife's name is Eve? Spare me the snake and apple jokes, please.
Make a right.
Now, what's wrong with her? Believe me, she'll tell you.
How long have you been married? What, silence offends you? You feel you have to make conversation? Nine years.
Nine? Yes, nine years.
And let me tell you - every single hour of every single day of every single year has been bliss.
Not happiness, Fleischman- sheer, unadulterated ecstasy- bliss.
Well, she must be very special.
Special? She's incredible.
She's unique.
She is a rare flower.
A precious jewel.
Most men can only dream about a woman like Eve, and I have her 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
Sounds wonderful.
You've never been married, have you? So, how you doing down there? Just fine, Dave.
What of it? Hi, Maggie.
Ed.
Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed.
How are you, Ed? Pretty good.
Tell me something, Ed.
You ever notice how with men, they never really listen to you? Nope.
Watch one sometimes.
Oh, they- they pretend to listen.
I mean, they nod and they grunt, but they don't really listen.
Huh.
You know why? Nope.
Because they can only think of one thing.
The joystick.
Is it big enough? Where can they put it? Do you know what the really tragic thing is? They're so sweet and so loving when they're born.
So cute, you know? But then they grow up.
And they become these big sweaty, stupid things.
God, you guys have great hair.
Thanks.
You know what I feel when I look at a man, Ed? Pity.
Loathing.
Genuine revulsion.
What? Well, you know, Maggie, I'm a man.
Oh, well-Anyway.
Men have been running things for thousands of years.
What do we have to show for it? War.
Pollution.
The S&L thing.
And do they ever put a toilet seat down? No! So what do we need them for? Well- Okay, sex is fine.
Sex is good.
Sex is great.
Okay, okay, we need men for sex.
Do we need so many? Never treated anyone who had her own cuff.
A blood pressure check should be a daily practice.
Don't you agree? Well, it can't hurt.
So, how long have you been aware of these multiple symptoms? '89, Rochester.
I was examined by all the so-called experts.
Then the Mayo Clinic, the Sloan-Kettering and City of Hope.
Is it my fault they're incompetent? You don't feel there's been any improvement? Oh, well, eventually they stabilized my iron levels and the zinc self-corrected.
But doesn't my low B.
P.
indicate something? No, it's not low.
It's just low normal.
I was thinking- Look, say ah.
Ah.
Ah.
Ah.
Open.
Addison's disease.
Addison's disease? Yes.
The fatigue, the muscle weakness, the occasional dizziness.
Well, it's a probing diagnosis, but you haven't experienced weight loss or pigmentation changes.
No, I would definitely rule out Addison's disease.
- Pernicious anemia? - Your color's too good.
Then what? Try this.
- You're not sick.
- Oh, what do you know? Will you tell him my symptoms are real? Well, yeah, I'm sure they feel real.
Even debilitating.
However, I'm having a hard time finding anything organic that would- Just say it.
Go on! She's a hypochondriac.
I have a history of documented illnesses.
At birth, I was afflicted with Klumpke's paralysis.
I had no use of my right hand or wrist for the first six months of life.
Yeah, yeah, sure.
Tell him about the hat disease.
It has nothing to do with hats.
Beret syndrome.
Trophic ulcers on my fingertips that have only just recently cleared up.
Well, here we go.
Oh, it smells wonderful.
I can't eat.
I'm nauseated.
What is it? It's, uh, sorrel soup with roasted scallops.
Mmm.
Soup? What did you cook it in? What do you think? A soup kettle.
- We don't have a soup kettle.
- Yes, we do.
I threw it away.
It is perfectly good.
It's aluminum.
I told you aluminum collects in the brain.
You're trying to poison my brain.
Your brain is already poisoned, and aluminum has nothing to do with it.
What-What are you doing? I'm throwing it away.
My soup! Oh, no, you don't.
You put that soup down.
I'm warning you.
Put- Put that down right now! Ah, you! All right, that's it.
Now you've done it.
Oh, look at the puffer fish puff up.
Now I'm really scared! I would tear you apart with my bare hands, but it would give you too much satisfaction.
I'm outta here! Great news! Wonderful! - I mean it! - Go! - I'm never coming back! - Promises, promises.
- If I never see you again, it'll be too soon.
- Oh! Good riddance! Well- Uh, I guess I'd better be heading off too.
It's getting kinda late.
- No, wait! - I have an early day tomorrow and- Please? Um, you haven't palpated my thyroid.
Well, I think we can put that off till my next visit.
Nothing like a bright, crisp morning in Cicely.
Small town America at its best.
Muffler! Today! Rendezvous back at your place? Fine with me.
Maurice, we're in public.
Oh, come on.
See you later.
Hey, Maurice.
Look at her, Chris.
She's ticketing my Harley.
So full of purpose.
So dedicated.
So thorough.
Boy, that is a real pro.
Yeah.
I'm in love, Chris.
It's like when I first experienced weightlessness.
I didn't know whether I was gonna tumble up or down.
Well, "Love is like friendship caught on fire.
" Hey, I like that.
Is that yours? Bruce Lee.
The thing about Barbara is that she's just so much fun to be with.
It's like this morning- She threw me an ax, and we raced through a half a cord of white spruce.
Sounds like a heavy-duty blood rush, Maurice.
You know, Chris, I've always differentiated between, uh, men and women.
To me, men were comrades, friends, confidants.
Women were objects of desire, admiration, nothing more.
But, recently, with Barbara, it's like we've become- - Soul mates.
- Yeah, that's it.
You've been listening to that Robert Bly tape I gave you.
No, no, no.
He lost me when he started talking about listening through the ear in your stomach.
But, uh, I think I'm gonna need your ministerial services, Chris.
No way.
Yeah.
Did you pop the question? I'm this close.
All right, Maurice.
You old dog.
Look, look at her.
Look.
She's nailed a jaywalker.
Hey.
Hey! What is this? - Don't strain yourself.
- Hey! - You-You struck me.
- Yes.
You-Take these off right now.
- No.
- Okay.
Um- Look.
I won't press charges, Eve.
I'll forget all about it.
We'll-We'll pretend that, uh, this didn't happen.
Okay? Hey.
This is kidnapping.
This is a felony.
I demand you take these off this instant.
- I can't.
- Why not? - I need you.
- What? I need a 24-hour, on-call physician.
Are you out of your mind? Wait, don't answer that.
It's a rhetorical question.
You are out of your mind.
- Don't get nasty.
- Hey.
Hey! Help! Help! Help.
! Help.
! Scream all you want.
It won't do you any good, except maybe give both of us headaches.
In which case, I may be forced to whack you again.
Do you- Do you actually think I'm going to take care of you under these circumstances? - You have to.
- I do not.
- You took an oath.
- It doesn't matter.
By assaulting me, you have broken the social contract between physician and patient.
You're angry now.
I understand that.
Please, take these off of me.
You'll feel better in a few days.
Days? I have got to get this place cleared up.
Adam is such a pig when he cooks.
Did he ever tell you how we met? It was at a book party.
I was in publicity.
I was an editor, corner office at Knopf.
It is Knopf, by the way.
Say the "K," not the "P.
" Anyway, there was Adam, this dark, brooding man in a chef s hat.
We went back to his place.
He whipped up a zabaione.
I've been with him ever since.
But the toxicity of Manhattan started playing hell with my electrolytes.
Alaska seemed like the place to go.
Little did we know about the P.
C.
B.
's.
I'm home.
The plan for this evening is T-bones, horns off, and baked Idahos.
- What? - I'm outta here.
- Barbara? - I was working out upstairs, the phone rang.
- Your answering machine picked up.
- What? Hi, Maurice.
This is McDivitt.
My accountant.
Good news.
I checked into the capital gains thing.
The I.
R.
S.
will never pick it out as passive income.
We'll put all the debentures on Schedule D.
This is going to save you a fortune.
- You broke the law.
- I didn't break it.
Maybe l-I bent it a little bit.
I don't find that amusing.
Barbara, loopholes are an American tradition.
Not in my book.
Besides, it's not the law, it's a tax code.
I bet Donald Trump doesn't pay a dime.
I cleaned the Browning and put it back in the case.
Barbara? Please? I've told Adam a hundred times- If you're going to grill in the house, you've got to use proper ventilation.
But, oh, no.
The great chef can't be bothered with anything as mundane as respiration.
It's not like I'm being unreasonable.
It's well documented.
It's in all the medical literature.
Charcoal smoke is carcinogenic.
Mmm.
You sure you don't want some of this? Come on now.
Don't pout.
You haven't eaten in 16 hours.
- I'm not hungry.
- With my blood sugar, I have to eat every four hours or I get dizzy.
- Mmm.
- What is it? Cassoulet.
It's always better the next day.
Well, maybe just a taste.
That's better.
I'm a patient woman.
It takes a lot to get me really upset, but the man doesn't wear shoes.
It's not only unsightly, it's unsanitary.
There is a reason that they have those signs in restaurants- No shoes, no service.
Okay, maybe for a couple of weeks in February, when the temperature is below 60, with a wind chill factor of 90, maybe I can get him to wear a pair of thongs.
Don't bolt your food.
Now, if bare feet were the only thing, that would be okay, but it's part of a pattern.
Part of his consistent disregard for my well-being.
- Well, look at the lovebirds.
- Get me out of here.
Didn't take you two long to get cozy, did it? What do you want? She knocked me out and shackled me.
Huh.
The hypochondriac and the doctor.
I'll call Noël Coward.
He'll write a play.
- Adam.
- What do you think you're doing? There's nothing to cook with at the country house.
- The country house.
- You're not taking the paella pan.
- What is this? Your pied-à-terre? - You wouldn't know a paella pan from a chafing dish.
The vertical roaster is mine.
I ordered this from Williams-Sonoma.
Dr.
Berman gave it to me after the kidney crisis.
You don't even cook! You never cooked anything in your life! I cook.
It just isn't my raison-d'être.
I happen to have more to my life than béarnaise sauce.
Oh, yeah, like antihistamines.
Like tetracycline! You have more pills than the F.
D.
A.
Look at this! Look! Look at this! What do you know? You're a pathological liar.
- A pathological liar? - Liar, liar, pants on fire! - You have made up every disease in Gray's Anatomy, for God's sakes! - Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Shut up! Shut up! Look at you, fighting like that in front of a stranger.
Have you no shame? All right, I'm laying down the law.
If you can't settle this, I will.
You've got no right- Nobody tells me what- Quiet.
! I make the rules.
Make us some coffee.
Now! Vienna roast or Kona? Maggie? Maggie, you gotta fly me to Anchorage.
You know what I see when I look at your fat, ugly face? Hmm? What? A man.
You know something? You have no neck.
Just like Gumby.
Hmm.
Uno más.
Uno más.
Coming up, Maggie.
You know, Maggie, this root beer is really good.
Hmm? You should try some.
Great idea.
Root beer with three fingers of gin.
I think you've had enough, dear.
Enough? Yes.
Enough.
You know, Ruth-Anne, you're lucky you're old enough to be a woman.
Come along, Maggie.
I'll take you home.
Maurice, I don't think it's your form.
I think it's your philosophy.
Philosophy? Yeah, your mind-set.
Man, you're all over the place today.
All right, look.
In kyudo philosophy, you don't really aim at the target, because you gotta become one with it.
Then, there's really nothing to aim at.
Works with the women too.
Give it a try.
No, it's not the aim, Chris.
It's the desire.
Every time I nock an arrow, I see Barbara.
All right, look.
That's lack of focus.
It - It increases anxiety, decreases pleasure.
You mind? No, no, go ahead.
It's not just the archery, Chris.
Earlier today, I blew away a six-point buck.
All I felt was emptiness.
Why don't you give her a call? Oh, no.
No, she's made it abundantly clear that she doesn't want to talk to me.
No, she'd just hear my voice and hang up.
Only one way to know for sure.
Chris, I'm all for getting back on a horse that's just thrown me off, but the way I'm hurting now, I don't think I could take another fall.
Ruth-Anne.
Hmm? Why are all men such swine? Well, they're not all swine, dear.
Well, most of them perhaps.
The problem is they don't know us, and we don't know them.
In Genesis two, it says that Adam was created from dust, and Eve was created from Adam's rib.
Now, putting aside all the sexist put-down, what that really means is that men and women are created differently.
Yeah, like swine.
You didn't know my husband, Bill.
A lovely, decent man.
A few months after we were married, theJapanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and I joined the Women's Army Corps.
I ended up packing parachutes in an airfield over by Manchester.
Bill had rheumatic fever when he was a child, and he couldn't serve, so he stayed in Portland.
I know the next part.
He had an affair.
At the time, I hoped so.
- Why? - Well, because I did.
You? He was an English pilot.
And I thought I loved him.
But I really just needed him.
There was so much death.
And when I was in bed with him, I wasn't thinking about death.
- What happened? - He was killed in a raid over Hamburg.
And you know, if he hadn't died, I might have divorced Bill and married him.
Look.
What I'm trying to say is that we can't know what's in another person's heart.
We can't even know what's in our own.
Life turns on a dime, and somehow we muddle through.
- Good night, dear.
- Good night.
On our first date, Adam told me he was working with a U.
N.
team of scientists to develop a drought-resistant strain of wheat.
That's not- - Uh- - But she- Hey, hey, hey.
Not wheat, rice.
It was rice.
Needless to say, this wasn't true.
Nor was his claim that he excavated Ramses III's tomb in the Valley of the Kings.
Nor that he led rebel forces in the capture of Addis Ababa.
I could go on and on.
In the face of these outright lies, how can one build trust in a relationship? Adam.
But before I get into trust, I would just like to say that when it's my turn to talk, she is coughing, she is wheezing.
- Can I help it if I'm allergic? - Eve.
Sorry, Dr.
Fleischman.
And you don't say a thing.
But when I interrupt to correct a lie- Adam, just state your case.
Let me draw you a picture.
It's 3:00 a.
m.
, she wakes up with leg cramps, demands a muscle relaxant.
Where's the nearest all-night pharmacy? Sleetmute.
Four hundred miles away.
We don't even have a mule, let alone a car.
My legs were balled up like fists.
Always her needs.
I mean, I'm out there, I'm running the rat race, trying to deal with the world of revolving-door chefs and food consultants.
Do I ever get a word of encouragement? A word of sympathy? No.
I'm offered a job at Tour d'Argent in Paris.
You? An American? They begged me.
What does she say? No, she doesn't wanna go to Paris, because she finds the French combative, and they let dogs sit at the table.
So, I turned them down.
Yet, I feel like a terrible person for wanting to go.
If you haven't been an only child, you can't understand.
- Eve.
- I felt pressured to be everything for my parents, which may be why nothing I do ever feels like enough.
Oh, hold on.
Here we go.
I'm attractive.
I'm bright.
But that means nothing when you can't swallow.
- If only you couldn't talk.
- There's a specialist in Houston.
When I'm well enough to tr - We've already had a dozen second opinions.
Stop.
I've heard enough.
Here's my decision.
You.
Nobody should believe anything you say, not even hello.
In addition, you are rude, you are hostile, and you have no regard for personal hygiene.
And you.
I've encountered hypochondriacs before, sure, but if they gave out awards, you would win the M.
V.
P.
That you would actually enslave someone to serve your delusions of illness, you are, without a doubt, the most selfish, egotistical- No, the most megalomaniacal person I have ever met.
The two of you are a disaster, and together, you're beyond description.
There-There is nothing worth saving here.
You go one way, you go the other.
Split up the appliances.
Split up the forests.
Split up the mountains.
You go east of the pipeline, you go west of the pipeline and never ever see one another again.
Maggie.
! Maggie.
Rick! Rick.
Don't worry.
I'm still dead.
Where are we? Heaven.
Heaven? You're in heaven? Well, it's really not all that hard to get in.
I mean, compared to an Ivy League school or some of the NBA play-off games, it's actually a breeze.
This looks like the Grosse Pointe Country Club.
Heaven is the Grosse Pointe Country Club? For you.
It's your dream.
I always hated it when my parents dragged me to the club.
Well, obviously on some subconscious level, you- Oh, my God! I don't believe it.
That's Mr.
Handley.
He and my dad played golf every Wednesday.
I knew he had a bad ticker, but I didn't know he was dead.
So, what am I doing here? Well, clearly, there are some unresolved issues we should deal with.
Unresolved issues.
Like your cheating on me? That unresolved issue? Oh, come on, Maggie, you knew.
I did not.
You had to.
What are you talking about? Last Christmas, I mixed up the gifts.
I gave you Joanne's Caleche.
You don't wear Caleche.
You don't like Caleche.
It's too sweet.
That could have been an honest mistake.
It could have been.
Denial, Maggie.
Oh, no, no, we're not making this my problem.
So, Rick, how many other women were there? How many? Uh-huh.
All together or at a particular given time? Just give me a rough estimate.
You slept with 2,500 women? - More or less.
- When you were with me? Oh, it had nothing to do with you.
It was me.
I was a sexual addict.
Like Howard Hughes.
LikeJ.
F.
K.
Like Dillinger.
Dillinger.
John Dillinger, the gangster? You can't imagine what a burden it was, all these women, all these empty sexual experiences.
Death was actually a great relief.
Well, sort of.
You know, Rick, I'm trying real hard to muster up some sympathy for you.
I'm not looking for sympathy.
I'm dead.
It's over.
You're what this is about.
Look at the men you have relationships with.
It's all part of a pattern.
I've met Glen here and Bruce.
We're all the same- gypsies, roamers.
You need someone steady.
Someone you can count on.
Someone like- I don't know- like- - Fleischman.
- Yeah.
You know, Rick, I've had about as much of this dream as I can take.
- I understand.
- Yeah.
Look, I gotta go.
I gotta tee off in five.
Sit, relax, enjoy lunch.
Tell him to put it on my tab.
Hello? Hey.
Hey, wake up.
Good morning, Dr.
Fleischman.
What? Eve and I talked.
We decided to give it another try.
l-That wasn't my recommendation.
What, we're supposed to listen to you, with your personal history? What is that supposed to mean? Hey, I've gotten chain letters that had more heart.
"DearJoey.
Take care.
Don't get frostbite.
" That's Elaine's letter.
You read Elaine's letter? Let me tell you something.
No wife of mine would ever run off with some mangy federal judge old enough to be her grandfather.
- How did you read Elaine's letter? - We'd like you to leave now.
Oh, you-you'd like me to leave? As in this is my choice? As in I've elected to remain and now I've outworn my welcome? Hold out your hands.
Spread, please.
Oh, nice dog.
Good dog.
Sit! Uh, Barbara, I was just, uh, in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd drop in.
Can you do something with them? Perimeter.
What is it, Maurice? Uh, well, Barbara, l-I just wondered if we might be able to talk.
Now? Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't realize you had company.
I can come back another time.
Just a sec.
Tony.
Eighty-six.
Barbara, I admit that what I did could be construed as not completely aboveboard.
But you and I both know to call it an outright criminal act would be a gross exaggeration.
When you break the law, you've committed a criminal act.
You have no idea how much I admire your dedication.
What do you want, Maurice? Talk's cheap.
I want you to know that my words carry weight, so l-I've got this check that I'm gonna present to the State Police Benevolence Association for $20,000.
That's $20,000, Barbara.
Four zeros.
I'm sure you'll receive a nice letter of thanks.
Barbara.
And a sizable deduction on your 1040.
Well, all right, make it 25,000.
I think you better go now.
How 'bout 30,000? Barbara, is it Trooper Tony in there? He's nothing.
He's a diversion, a rebound.
What is it, Barbara? You've got to tell me what I can do.
You don't get it, Maurice.
I'm not a cop because I wanna be.
I'm a cop because I have to be.
I was called to the law.
I'm its servant.
I eat, breathe, sleep the law.
It courses through my body like blood.
And when you stepped on the law, Maurice, you stepped on me.
It's yellow.
I think it's jaundice.
It's not jaundice.
I've had obstructions of the common bile duct before.
It is not jaundice.
Honey, Eve, have you been eating a lot of carrots? No.
Certain medications cause jaundice, don't they? Quinacrine hydrochloride, for instance.
Okay, you wanna be sick? You are sick.
Yes, that is jaundice.
That is - It is the worse case of jaundice I have ever seen.
The question is: What's causing it? Best-case scenario: Gallstones.
Gallstones.
Could be hepatitis or maybe you've developed full-blown metastasized, inoperable pancreatic cancer.
Hey, hey, buddy, that's my wife you're talking to.
When you get back from New Zealand, sweetheart, I wanna go get a CAT scan.
Okay, sweetheart? New Zealand.
Okay, I'll bite.
What's in New Zealand? Yacht race.
Kiwi Cup.
Fifty-foot catamarans.
They let you race a yacht? Well, they grouse about it, but, uh, they really don't have much choice.
He designed the sails.
Don't ask.
All right, come on.
I know you're dying to say something.
I disappear without a trace.
I'm abducted from my home.
I return in chains.
You're not even the least bit curious? Your sterile sponges came in.
Thank you.
Thank you, Marilyn.
Where have you been, Fleischman? Oh, you wanna know? - Yeah.
- You really wanna know? - Yeah.
- Remember Adam, the missing link? His wife, Eve, has been holding me prisoner for the last 36 hours.
You can't even answer a simple question.
Fleischman, why are those things on your wrist? What do you want, O'Connell? Nothing.
I don't feel like asking now.
Fine.
Don't ask.
You know, Fleischman.
Despite your many faults and limitations, there is an honesty to you.
Not that that makes you any more likable or charming.
- O'Connell, I've had a rough couple days.
- So have I.
The point is you are who you are.
There's no hidden agenda, no subterfuge.
What you see is what you get.
As opposed to? Rick and Glen and that schmuck Bruce.
At times- And don't read anything into this, okay? I actually find you refreshing.
You mean like a glass of ginger ale? And occasionally amusing.
Thanks.
- You were gonna ask me something? - I was? - You were.
- I was.
Do you wanna have dinner? - Dinner? - Mm-hmm.
- What, with you? - Forget it.
- Wait a minute.
Hold on, O'Connell.
- No, it's okay, really.
No hard feelings.
It's all right.
- Yes.
- Yes? - Yes.
- Okay, yes.
But just dinner, Fleischman.
Nothing kinky.
Just dinner.
Good.
Bye, Maggie.
Ow.
Oh, geez! Aah! Marilyn? Marilyn! Marilyn.
!