MARJORIE: With Walter? Oh yes. He wasn’t the most beautiful man I was with, but he was the best lover.

JON (Awkward): Ha.

MARJORIE: I know, it’s a terrible word, “lover.” We need a new word.

JON: I always liked “wooer.”

MARJORIE: Wooer?

JON: Jean-Paul was no match for his woo.

MARJORIE: It’s a little

JON: What

MARJORIE: Flaccid, isn’t it.

JON (“Ouch”): Honesty—the secret weapon of the elderly.

MARJORIE (Smiling): Not so secret.

JON: Tess is on the phone with Dr. Ross—she thinks maybe he’s overdoing it with your sedatives, and that’s why you . . .

MARJORIE: Took a spill.

JON: Mm-hmm. Now, are you up for a bit of walking?

MARJORIE: An adventure.

JON: Well, no. It’s Shower Day.

MARJORIE (A real crisis): Oh no.

JON: I know. But you want to look your best. In case Jean-Paul stops by.

MARJORIE: You can’t fool me. I know he’s dead.

JON: Well it’s likely. But we don’t actually know. He kept writing to you, even after you were married. Can you believe that? You bewitched him.

MARJORIE: You’re making this up.

JON: I’m not. He sent you roses and you saved one, pressed between two pieces of paper.

MARJORIE: How do you know that?

JON: We found it in a drawer, at the old house.

MARJORIE: Busted.

JON: “Busted”?

MARJORIE: Don’t people say busted anymore?

JON: I mean, a car is busted . . .

(Beat.)

MARJORIE (Fishing): What attracted him to me, do you think?

JON: Well, your womanly wiles of course.

MARJORIE: Of course.

JON: And I imagine you cultivated a frosty distance.

MARJORIE: Oh yes, men like that. (Beat) Why do men like that?

JON: I wish I knew.

Speaking of which, I should check on Tess.

(He starts to go. He is almost out the door.)

MARJORIE: How long ago did my mother die?

JON (Gentle): A long time. I got to meet her once. It was the first time Tess brought me home for dinner.

MARJORIE: That I remember.

JON: I bet.

MARJORIE (She pronounces it “sook-say”): A succès de scandale.

JON (The same): Was it a succès?

MARJORIE: You’re still together, aren’t you? So it didn’t matter what I thought.

(Short pause. He smiles a little at this—how much she’s revealing these days.)

I remember you didn’t put your napkin in your lap. And your beard was nearly to the floor.

JON: It wasn’t

MARJORIE: Like the guys from ZZ Top

JON: What’s ZZ Top?

MARJORIE: Really?

JON: Was that a band?

MARJORIE (“I’m so old”): Oh dear oh dear oh dear . . .

(He smiles, confused but sympathetic.)

JON: I’ll be right back. I have to make sure Tess isn’t giving that nice young man the third degree. She has a way of—

MARJORIE: Yes

JON: When it comes to details.

MARJORIE: “Peanut butter! Eat!”