And inhale... and exhale.
Okay, great.
How's the exercise going?
Well, that whole inhale/exhale thing knocked me for a loop,
but I did take the stairs up here from the parking garage.
- I'm on the second floor. - I know. I'm not finished.
I still have to go back down.
You can get dressed.
Ah, so it looks like your donor passed her psych eval.
I am as shocked as you are.
Well, everything is looking great.
We're just about ready to schedule your surgery.
Really? Oh, that's fantastic.
- There is one thing. - No, no!
You cannot build up my hopes and then yank the rug out from under me.
See, you do this, Doctor. You do this all the time, and I'm sick of it.
We just need Gina's medical history on her father's side.
I believe I owe you an apology.
I should have let you finish.
The thing is, uh,
Gina's father passed away.
Can we still schedule it without it?
- Absolutely. - All right!
- But I wouldn't advise it. - You son of a bitch!
She'll be living with one kidney.
If there's any history of kidney stones or clots
or anything else, she'll be putting herself at risk.
Okay, yes, got it.
I will make sure she gets the records.
Thanks, you son of a bitch.
I'm glad we can laugh about that.
Yeah.
Okay, gotta hit the stairs.
My father died like 20 years ago.
I don't have his medical records.
I mean, I guess I could make them up, like I do my Social Security number.
No. The-the doctor said there could be
serious health complications.
And you should really stop using one-two-three-four- five-six-seven-eight-nine.
Just tell them that my dad was a jerk but he was incredibly healthy.
You just said he died young.
He got hit by a train.
At that point, nobody cares about your cholesterol level.
Can you at least try to track down his doctor
or talk to some relatives?
There's my stepmom Charlene,
but, I haven't talked to her forever.
How come?
I'm afraid my hands will end up wrapped around her neck
choking the life out of her.
You know, like families do.
Come on, Cannoli, let's go for a walk.
Well, can you please just call her?
I mean, if something happened to you, I could never forgive myself.
Oh, I'll be fine.
I don't like to talk about it,
but my life is kind of charmed.
Do you know how many home pregnancy tests I've taken?
And guess what,
I don't see any babies.
? The more you give ?
? The more you live ?
? Your happiness is relative ?
? But if you're feeling like crap ?
? It's time to face the fact ?
? It's your prerogative ?
? Your prerogative ?
? To be positive ?
Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com
Gina can't do the surgery without those records.
- There are too many unknowns. - I know.
But she refuses to talk to her stepmother.
If she signs the waiver for the surgery
and something happens to her,
oh, I could end up killing her.
Oh, my God. That's hilarious.
Sorry, I'm on a Zoom meeting for work.
If Gina won't talk to her stepmother,
I guess you could just call off the surgery.
That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard.
Yeah, that was for you.
- You cannot pass up a willing donor. - I agree.
If she's willing to go through with it, that's her decision.
She's an adult.
An adult whose e-mail is still MrsJustinTimberlake143@hotmail.com,
but hey, we all got our things.
Well, when she dies because they didn't know her medical history,
her husband Justin can sing at her funeral.
"Bye Bye Bye."
I think Gideon and Jerry are right.
I should probably just call off the surgery.
If something happens to her, I-I couldn't live with myself.
She's my friend now. If I kill her, I've killed half my friends.
Oh, come on now. Let's get real here.
What are the chances of something really going wrong?
- Actually... - It doesn't matter.
It's not worth it. Surgery's off.
You are so stupid.
No, not you guys.
I'm at lunch with a bunch of jack holes.
Not you guys.
I don't know why I'm so surprised.
My daughter breaks my heart all the time.
I'm so sorry, Norma.
And even though I know better, I keep getting my hopes up
thinking things will change.
I'm so sorry, Norma.
Yeah, you already said that. You work in an old folks' home.
Don't they train you to console people?
Hey, Norma.
Oh, are you okay?
Her daughter canceled on her for Family Weekend.
- Again. - I'm so sorr...
I am sure that Amy had a very good reason.
Oh, she did.
Apparently, I wasn't "there enough for her"
while she was growing up.
That according to her very expensive therapist,
who I pay for, by the way, because Amy has no insurance
because Amy has no job.
Which, apparently, is my fault as well.
Screw her!
I am sure that you were a loving mother
who did the best you could.
I'll tell you what, me and you, girls' weekend.
Let's cash out your Social Security in singles
and make it rain at the strip club.
Thank you. You're an angel.
- Gina? - Hey, Drew.
- What are you doing here? - I thought about it.
You have to get your dad's medical records.
- Oh, I already told you... - Because if you don't,
I'm calling off the surgery.
- Oh, you are lying. - I am not.
I would rather go back on the donor list
than put your life at greater risk.
And I won't take no for an answer.
- Are you serious? - I am.
Look, if something happens to you...
It's just not worth it. And that's that.
Drew, you would call the whole thing off to protect me?
Okay.
I will call my stepmom and get the records.
- Really? - Yeah.
Good.
I kind of like alpha Drew.
What about you guys?
Alexa, play something from the early 2000s.
Stop! Alexa, stop.
Well, that's gonna haunt my dreams.
Drew, the dishes are clean,
but those moves are dirty.
Norma, to what do we owe the pleasure?
Oh, well, her daughter couldn't make it to Family Weekend,
so I'm gonna take her to Philly with me.
Girls' trip!
Why are you going to Philly?
And why are you taking off your shirt?
We talked about this... No boobs in the kitchen.
At least I'm wearing a bra this time.
I called my stepmom to get the records,
but she didn't call me back...
Big surprise.
So I'm gonna drive to her house and get 'em for you.
But Philly's like three hours away.
Oh, that's why I'm going, to keep her company.
Plus, if the car breaks down and I freeze to death,
that'll really make my daughter feel guilty.
Okay, I'm going with you.
Oh, really, you don't have to.
No, you're doing this for me. I want to be there for you.
- You don't need to come. - You haven't been back there in years.
- This could be really tough for you. - I'm telling you I'll be fine.
When my father died, I broke down
every time I sat in his favorite chair.
That's not going to happen, and you're not going.
Gina, going to your childhood home
could unlock memories about your father's death.
Oh, my God, he's not dead, okay?!
- What? - I lied. He's alive.
Gina?
Yeah.
I call shotgun.
So?
- You said you wouldn't ask. - That's fine.
It's your life, it's your business.
We can just enjoy our little road trip.
Things were different in my day.
Big, open convertibles, no seat belts.
Hot toddies in thermoses, tipsy as a Gypsy.
That was a road trip.
My vacations were all,
"You should have turned there, Larry."
"Son of a bitch, now you tell me?"
"I did tell you. You never listen."
I listen. You know what I hear?"
All the way to Daytona Beach.
I know I lied to you, but in my defense,
he was dead to me. I haven't seen him since I was ten.
That's a long time.
What happened, sweetie?
When my dad was in high school, he was...
the neighborhood hottie, and all the girls loved him,
including my mom.
But while he was dating her,
he was also seeing Charlene.
And he got both of them pregnant at the same time,
and he chose... Charlene.
- That's awful. - When I was a kid,
I would visit him and his other family, but...
I never felt welcome.
There wasn't room for me at the table, and they'd always make such a big deal about
squeezing in a folding chair, like they were doing me a favor.
Then my dad would leave to go play cards,
and I was left with my stepmom and my half-sister.
It was like I was Cinderella, except the mice didn't talk to me,
no matter how many tiny hats and vests I made them wear.
Eventually, I started making excuses about
why I couldn't go there anymore, and...
my dad didn't seem to mind, so...
And 25 years later,
here we are.
I'm so sorry.
Kiddo.
Yep, road trips definitely used to be more fun.
I know this has been a terrible time for you,
but maybe this is an opportunity
for you to reconnect with your father.
I have no interest in doing that.
You sure? He's still your father.
No, he's not.
I'm just saying kids have a tendency to blame their parents.
Like my daughter Amy.
She's married a series of losers, what, because I didn't hug her enough?
Well, in this case, I am blaming him
because it's totally his fault.
Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't forgive and move on.
I'm still hearing about these dance recitals I missed
because I was too busy running a business
to pay for the damn dance lessons.
Good grief.
That was the worst gas station bathroom I've ever seen.
I think I got a rash just from touching the soap.
Maybe your father has changed.
Are you kidding me? Are you seriously taking his side?
People do change.
Even though some people are too stubborn to admit it.
- I feel like I missed something. - My father will never change.
He's an irresponsible, selfish jerk. The end.
Eyes on the road, Gina. Truck coming.
Maybe your father could do things differently
if you just quit holding a grudge and give him a second chance.
He's had 25 years of second chances.
He doesn't deserve another one.
Fine. Have it your way. What do I know?
You know, Norma does have a point.
Any disruptions to one's family of origin...
That's the window to my half-sister's room.
She'd be in her pink canopy bed, and I'd be in a sleeping bag
on the floor counting the minutes till I could go home.
Deep breath. You got this.
Yeah. I just got to go in there,
get the records and get out.
- Gina. - Are you gonna say
the words "forgive" or "forget"?
'Cause it's gonna cost you a lot of money to Uber home.
Go with God.
Boy, I hope this works.
Yeah, I hope so, too.
But a familial wound is one of the more difficult ones.
Can I help you?
It's me.
Gina.
Oh, my God.
Yeah. I left some messages.
I got them.
This'll take two minutes. I just need to talk to my dad.
- Your dad? - Yeah.
Well, that's not going to be easy.
Frank died from a heart attack last March.
- What? - And just so you know,
there's no money.
How come no one told me?
Who thought you'd care? You haven't seen him in over 20 years.
Oh, geez. Is that your husband?
No wonder you left him in the car.
So that's Charlene.
I can smell the cigarettes and peach schnapps from here.
Ooh, here she comes.
Act like we've been talking about something else.
Uh, so, um, that little girl grew up to be Billie Jean King.
Hey, that was fast.
Was your dad not home?
He's dead.
Like, really dead?
He had a heart attack a year ago.
- Oh, sweetheart. - And no one told you?
Charlene didn't think I'd care.
Drew, what are you doing?
Stop.
- Let's just get out of here. - No. Gina.
Great. Part two.
How could you not even call her when her father died?
- What's it your business? - Because she's my friend.
Well, you obviously don't know her.
No, you don't. This woman is a saint.
She works with senior citizens, she takes in stray animals.
She'd give you the shirt right off her back.
She cut her father out of her life.
No, he cut me out of his life,
which is exactly what you wanted.
Oh, yeah, blame it on me.
You'd come here with a chip on your shoulder.
You didn't even try.
I was a little girl.
You and Dad were supposed to be the adults.
You can't just give up on a kid.
So she had trouble adjusting to her father's other family,
but she grew up to be an incredible person.
She's saving my life, by the way. She's giving me a kidney.
So?
So, when she offered, she barely knew me.
She just wanted to help because that's the type of person she is.
And we just want your husband's medical records
so we know she won't die during the surgery.
Hang on a second.
She's not getting a gun, is she?
I get a definite gun vibe from this lady.
Don't worry, you can't get a gun if you're a felon.
I am not reassured.
Here. It's your dad's doctor.
He'll have the records.
Thank you.
And I'm sorry for getting all aggro on you.
It's Philadelphia. I got caught up in the magic of the city.
I found this after he died.
You might want to look at it.
Thank you.
I'm sorry for your loss.
You, too.
So, you gonna open it?
Eventually.
I shouldn't have mouthed off at you about your situation.
- It's okay. - No, it isn't.
I was upset about my daughter.
That's understandable.
People often project their feelings...
Hey, Freud, zip it.
We're having a moment.
Someone's hangry.
Want to get some food?
There's a diner a few exits up.
Sounds good.
I could go for a hot dog.
And a doughnut.
What do you make of that, Mr. Freud?
Well, this is... lovely.
Yes, it seems what they saved in dishwashing
they made up for in leather booth duct tape.
Oh, trust me. They make the best grilled cheese.
Oh. How'd you hear about this place?
Oh, this is where my mom would drop me off
so my dad could take me for the weekend.
Well, the BLT looks nice.
Yes, this place is very charming. Oh.
No pressure, if you don't want to open that in front of us.
Oh, it's fine.
Here goes.
Oh, my God.
I remember drawing this.
- Is that you and your dad? - Yeah.
Who's that other guy?
That's his bookie, Joey Bookie.
Mobsters weren't too creative with the nicknames.
Oh, my candy cigarettes.
Talk about a gateway candy.
It's me and my dad.
Don't even know how old I was here.
He bought me this dress for my birthday.
At least if I knew he died, I-I could have gone to the funeral.
You don't have to go to a funeral to say goodbye.
Yeah, I mean, it's...
mainly just about talking
and saying what you wanted to say.
I mean...
this could be your father.
You could say goodbye.
I'm not saying goodbye to ketchup.
It doesn't have to be ketchup. It's a symbol.
Bye, Dad.
I miss you and your 57 varieties.
Come on. It might do you good.
Hey, Dad.
It's me.
Gina.
I always thought you forgot about me.
And...
if I was a pain, I-I didn't mean to be, but...
those weekends were brutal,
and maybe they were for you, too. I don't know.
I guess the whole thing was a big mess.
- Excuse me, are you using that ketchup? - Yes, we're using it.
It's her father.
I never told Mom
'cause I thought I wasn't being loyal,
but there were a lot of times
that I wanted to call you, like...
Like when the Eagles won the Super Bowl
or whenever The Godfather was on TV.
I still remember how you stuffed mashed potatoes
in your cheeks and would do your Marlon Brando impression.
Dad?
I'm sorry that we never had a chance to work it out.
I always thought that I'd call or...
or maybe you would.
But now...
I'm gonna miss you.
That was perfect.
All right. I'll call my daughter. You happy?
Sir?
Here you go.
Take care of him.
Well, this food was actually pretty good.
Yes, my turkey sandwich tasted a bit like hand sanitizer,
but that's on me.
This is where my dad taught me how to dine and dash.
The first few times, I was so scared,
but then I got really good at it.
I'm still banned from a Red Lobster in Westchester.
- Here you go. - Ah, thanks.
Do you guys want to dine and dash right now?
- I'm in. - What? No, absolutely not.
When we sat down, we signed a social contract.
Come on, it's easy.
All you do is accidentally spill over your water,
and when the waitress goes to get a towel,
you haul ass to the car.
My daughter would never do scams with me.
Norma, I will always be your scam daughter.
Okay.
In honor of your father...
Excuse me! We need a towel over here.
- Go, go, go. Go. Come on. - Oh, God.
I have spilled water.
And my friends are outside, so I just have to, uh...
Oh, so sorry.
This is for the meal. Delicious.
And this is for you.
And this is for a dine and dash
that happened about 25 years ago.
Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com