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Sean. Sean.
Oh.
Do you think this is her?
Maybe answer it and see.
Okay.
Hi. Leanne?
Leanne? Leanne Grayson?
Hello, Mrs. Turner.
Welcome. Welcome.
Come in. Let's get you in here. Out of the rain.
Yes.
- Sean. Suitcase. - Oh.
Hi. I'm Sean.
Pleased to meet you, Mr. Turner.
Should I...
- Yes, of course. - Yeah, okay.
Well, let's get you out of all this wet stuff. Yeah?
There we go.
You have a beautiful home.
Oh, well, that's very kind of you to say so.
Why don't I give you the tour? Hm?
Living room.
Dining room.
Kitchen.
And the master bedroom, here, to the right.
Nursery, to the left.
He's such a good sleeper. We're so blessed.
That's Sean's private man cave, right through there.
And then this, finally, is you.
We left it bare, so feel free to stamp your own personality on it.
Oh, and the bathroom, of course.
You must tell us immediately if that leaks.
Yeah, and I'll... I'll get someone to look at this.
Well, we didn't know what time you'd be arriving,
so we only have a cold plate prepared.
But why don't you take a few minutes, settle in,
and come down to the kitchen and meet us.
- Sean. - Yeah.
_
Well, she seems very nice.
Kinda quiet, don't you think?
Well, she's a long way from home.
And she's bound to be nervous.
I mean, it's our job to make her feel more comfortable.
Yeah, yeah, I get all that.
- How old is she? - Does it matter?
I don't know. I was expecting someone... older.
Less weird.
If you screw this up for me...
What? I'm not allowed to make an observation?
I just want us to make a good impression.
She's staff, darling. Try to remember that. All right?
Do you have any siblings, Leanne?
No, Mrs. Turner.
Well, I'm reading a fascinating book on the subject.
How where you place in the family can determine personality traits.
For example, they say the middle child of three
can be a strong negotiator,
but often feels that life can be somewhat unfair.
Oh. Are you... um...
Confident, responsible and determined.
I'm the eldest of two.
Uh, spoiled, selfish and critical of others.
Classic male only child.
Hobbies?
Oh, please, Sean.
Eighteen-year-old girls don't have time for hobbies.
I like to read.
Really? Which authors?
Uh, magazines.
Oh, that's technically reading.
Mrs. Turner says that you work from home.
What is it that you do?
Nothing as glamorous as my wife.
I'm a professional bon vivant. It means...
Good living.
It's French.
Sean creates recipes, Leanne.
Consulting chef.
He advises for some of the best restaurants in the city.
I feed butter and cream to fat people.
Don't be self-deprecating, darling.
People write articles about him.
"An extraordinary palate", they all say.
But what about you, Leanne?
What do you see yourself doing? Long-term, I mean.
What are your goals in life?
Well, I guess to be happily married
and to raise children of my own someday.
See, darling, for some people that is enough.
Well, I think that covers all the formal stuff.
- Uh, the Gaggia. - Oh.
I don't know if my wife mentioned in her e-mails,
but it's not to be touched.
It's vintage. Temperamental.
Only Sean can get a coffee out of that contraption.
But, aside from that...
we hope you'll treat our house as your home.
I'm sure you and Jericho will form an instant bond.
I can't wait to meet him.
That's fantastic.
- A toast then. - Mm-hmm.
Yes, a little drink to celebrate your arrival.
Sean, we have some vintage champagne in the cooler.
Oh, I'm 18, Mrs. Turner.
- Oh. - One little drink won't hurt.
No, no. Of course.
That was silly of us. I'm so sorry.
I hope you don't think...
Perhaps you'd like to call home.
You can use the landline.
I'm sure everyone back in good old Wisconsin
will want to know you arrived safely.
What happened to "I'll make an effort, darling"?
I am making an effort, but this is my house.
I don't wanna be judged every time I have a drink
or jerk off in the middle of the day.
Don't you dare masturbate while she's in this house.
Just you watch me.
Is everything okay?
I think I'm going to go to bed now.
Yes, of course. You must've had a long day.
Yeah. Good night, Leanne.
We hope you'll be happy here.
And if there's anything you need, anything at all, please just ask.
You are both very kind, Mr. and Mrs. Turner.
_
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name... Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...
Please...
Oh, hey there, little guy.
Hey. Gonna get you changed.
Yeah. Yes, we are. Yeah.
Okay, and down, down, down.
Okay.
Okay, and one, and two.
Whee!
Okay, we're just gonna do one of these, and then...
You're so cute. Look at you.
Remind me why I'm doing this.
'Cause there's a shortage of people trying to work in television.
Oh, please, do not choose now to be horrible to me.
I'm quite emotional about what's happening.
- You don't look emotional. - Why, because I'm not crying?
Are you consciously trying to stop yourself from crying?
I'm leaving my son for the first time since he was born.
Can I just be emotional about that without having to justify myself?
Maybe you're not ready.
Maybe we're rushing this. Maybe...
Good morning, Mr. Turner.
Leanne.
Oh, that's my car.
- All right. - Hi.
- I left three bottles in the fridge. - Okay.
There's a lake of the stuff in the freezer.
Just... keep him safe. Keep him warm.
And call me, whether you feel like you need to or not.
I will, Mrs. Turner.
Oh.
So, I guess we should talk about this.
She's gone. You can put it down now.
I'm fine as I am, Mr. Turner.
It's called a reborn doll.
We lost Jericho when he was 13 weeks.
Just didn't wake up one morning, poor little guy.
Dorothy took it hard.
She was catatonic for weeks. Full psychotic break.
And this is the only thing that brought her back.
Transitory object therapy,
or so her unlicensed quack likes to call it.
We're keeping it on the hush for now.
We didn't announce the death.
We didn't want to put Dorothy through a wave of sympathy.
Only her father and brother are aware.
And now you.
And a valet guy I got shit-faced with one night
on two bottles of Grenache and a Syrah.
How long we have to keep up this charade, I don't know.
But you're paid till the end of the month,
and Dorothy's working crazy hours, so...
Bus will take you into city center in 15 minutes.
Live it up.
Any questions?
No, Mr. Turner.
Nothing at all?
I should take Jericho for his walk now.
It's gonna be so much fun. Please don't cry.
Don't cry. You don't need to cry.
Okay? I'm still here. All right.
You don't have to do that.
I don't mind.
You know what?
I insist. Just leave it. Thank you.
The accident happened just after 6:00 p.m.
on the corner of 18th and Walnut.
Police have confirmed the identity of one of the deceased:
a Mr. Eric Sherman, believed to be a visitor to the city.
Rumors of a second vehicle leaving the scene
have yet to be confirmed.
Reporting live from Rittenhouse Square, I'm Dorothy Turner, 8 News.
Mama's home.
- Hey. - Hey.
Did you eat already?
Waited for you.
What is it?
Ooh. Please be fish. Please be fish.
Rabbit three ways.
Yum.
And these are Jell-O cubes?
Solidified jus.
Which if you'd been here when you said you would,
it would be melting over warm meat.
Where's Jericho?
Sleeping. Went out like a light.
She didn't keep him up for me?
Did you ask her to?
? The itsy-bitsy spider ?
? Climbed up the waterspout ?
? Down came the rain ?
? And washed the spider out ?
? Out came the sun ?
? And dried up all the rain ?
? And the itsy-bitsy spider ?
? Climbed up the spout again ?
Did you know she was religious?
Who? Leanne?
She prays. I saw her.
I mean, proper fucking
squeeze-your-hands together-and-ask-for-a-pony sort of pray.
I think that's sweet.
I think it's weird.
Will you stop playing with your tits for three minutes?
Oh, I have mastitis.
I think I'm running a fever.
Thank you for the sympathy though.
I don't care what she believes. I just don't want it in the house.
I don't want her trying to get into your head.
So, if she talks to you about it and tries to get in your head,
I'm warning you, I will take her shit
and put in on the street and change the locks.
You're right. I really should've hired the lap-dancing Satanist.
Now, this is one of two things:
"A", you're disappointed because there's super-young pussy in the house
and you don't wanna fuck it.
Technically correct.
Or "B", you just can't stand the thought
of another woman trying to raise your son.
Prehistoric man, sitting on the crapper,
envious of his wife's achievements.
You got me. "B" all the way.
Look, we need Leanne more than she needs us right now.
Nine hundred dollars a month and the coldest room in the house,
we got off lightly.
Who cares if she brings a little God into our world?
Hey. Is Dorothy home?
She's at work, which you knew already.
Is, uh... she here?
You came all this way to check out the nanny?
I waited till almost a week, and I think I've been pretty respectful.
Lunch?
So, is she hot?
Who? The nanny? No. God, no.
Shame.
- And even if she was, I wouldn't... - Mm...
No, no, of course. What's wrong with you?
I got a splinter.
And she's cool with everything?
This unfuckable nanny. She knows the situation?
I told her the headlines, and she's just playing along. She's...
Well, she's getting cash in hand and free accommodation.
For what? She didn't even have to change a diaper.
I was beginning to think we allowed this to go too far.
But then you let Dorothy hire this nanny,
and now there's a fucking cherry on top.
Everything has to be normal around her.
You heard what Natalie said. No sudden movements, no changes.
Natalie is not a doctor.
My sister needs professional care.
She'll come back in her own time.
What if she never comes back?
Can't take a doll to soccer practice, Sean.
One for the pain.
In you go.
Here you go, little one. Let's get you all buckled in.
Oh, stop.
Hey. You know what? I've really gotta pee.
- Can you... - Okay.
- Ohh. - Go to Daddy.
Oh, oh, oh.
- Good luck. - Okay.
Here. I can take him up to bed.
- Okay. - Come to me.
Okay. Okay.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Turner. I heard...
Oh, no, it's okay.
Come in. Please.
It's mastitis.
On the road all day, it's just so hard to keep up.
You just need to clear the blockage.
Oh.
Dropped too many feeds.
I'm gonna have to put him on formula. He's gonna get cancer.
It's gonna be all my fault.
If you don't mind me saying, Mrs. Turner...
I think you should persevere.
Ow.
Ohh! Oh.
The parade is scheduled
to come directly through this neighborhood,
which has created a sticky dilemma for local authorities.
Ma'am, what do you think of the parade coming through on Sunday?
God put me here. So, if they want me gone,
God better find me somewhere else.
The clock is ticking,
and with holidays fast approaching,
manpower is in short demand.
I'm Dorothy Turner, 8 News.
I'm going to put him down for his nap now, Mr. Turner.
And then I need to run to the pharmacy
and pick up some items for Mrs. Turner.
I'll only be 30 minutes.
But could I please ask you to listen out for him?
She's not here. Lady Turner, she's at work.
Thank you, Mr. Turner.
Take all the time you need. Hit a bar.
Mmm.
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