The Afterparty

That's much better.

What are we talking about?

You said you saw the murder happen.

-Yes. -And that it wasn't Grace.

Even though you were the one who accused her in the first place.

If I have somehow upset you, mea culpa.

Mmm. So…

Are you sure you witnessed the actual poisoning?

I know what I saw.

Now, I know what you all think of me.

I'm just cold, haughty, intimidatingly beautiful.

But it isn't easy being Isabel Minnows.

I'm a proud woman, and it's been a difficult year.

Mine is a classic story filled with suspense, paranoia

and a deep descent into madness.

You see, last year my husband died very suddenly.

Not a dry eye in sight today, dear.

You would've hated it.

-Mother, you're trembling. -No. I'm fine.

Well, you're shivering, then. Here, take my coat.

No. Stop fussing.

-I'm fine. -Do you want my coat?

No. I want to leave now

before I have to talk to any more senators' wives.

Haven't seen her this upset since they opened the country club to Italians.

Why were there so many flowers?

-Well, flowers are traditional, Mother. -

Well, soon they'll all be as dead as your father.

Isabel, um, why don't you come stay with us for a bit?

We can grieve together as a family.

They were worried about me.

They had every reason to be. I was unraveling.

Alexander.

Died in your sleep, and I can't get any of my own.

Edgar got me sleeping pills from our doctor.

But they were no help.

Basil, bay leaf, celery-- No, black pepper.

Yes. No, chili powder, chili powder.

No, carda-- cardamom. We've got the curry.

-We've got, um-- -Mother?

Yes, hello.

It's 4:30 in the morning. Why are you awake?

What are you doing awake?

I'm up to do my morning laps before the markets open.

Well, your spices were all out of order.

You woke up in the middle of the night to organize my spices?

It was absurd, I knew it. But as I said, I'm a proud woman.

Well, somebody had to do it.

You should fire that maid. Publicly, if possible.

I didn't want Edgar to know I was suffering.

But with each passing day, it became more difficult

-to pretend nothing was wrong. -When will you accept they're the same?

-Bucephalus is digital dollars. - No.

A dollar is a piece of government propaganda.

Why, there's a president's face stamped right on it.

Bucephalus is superior.

Mother? Mother, do you hear me?

It's like she's on another planet.

What? No. I don't like it when you talk politics.

It's gauche.

Well, we were talking about my cryptocurrency.

Well, I don't like fads, toaster ovens, Slinkys, Michael Bublé.

Please make me a drink.

Isabel, you have one. It's in your hand.

But it's gin.

And I don't like gin.

-No, you definitely do. -Yes, you do.

You drank it every day when you were pregnant with Edgar.

You told me your safe word with Father was "Seagram's."

Fine. I like gin.

And I could feel them judging me.

Their pity only made it worse. And the sleeping pills still did nothing.

I started to think I was really going mad.

- -

No, I cannot have a personal assistant with adult braces.

It's a sign of weakness.

Can you please turn down the music? I can't hear myself think.

I don't know what Rosh Hashanah is, but no, you may not have the day off.

I'm sorry. What music?

Those awful children singing gibberish.

Apologies. I'll-- I'll call you back. Something's come up.

It's a haunting rendition of that god-awful pop song your father liked.

Oh, Mother. There is no music.

Well, now there's not.

-Look at you. - Oh.

-You're not sleeping. -No.

-Now you're hearing things. What-- -Yes.

-What's becoming of my mother? -

You've been through a terrible shock.

-Yes. -No one expected Father to die…

-No. -…in that plane crash.

Wait a minute. You said your husband died in his sleep.

He fell asleep flying his plane while his passengers screamed

as they plummeted to a fiery death from the sky.

But that's beside the point. What's important here is--

My God, what are you doing?

Oh, I'm just making a little casket for Roxana.

What's important is that I was coming undone in front of Edgar.

And… …Hannah, my sweet, odd bird.

And I mean, I value her opinion above anyone's.

Wait, you do?

I didn't-- You've never told me that before.

-Well, how would I? -Just sort of like you just did.

But I'm not… …telling you. I'm telling them.

I mean, what do you want me to do?

Tell you that I care about you, to your face, while we're alone?

-That'd be really nice. -No, that's absurd.

Have you considered talking to a therapist?

Or perhaps a priest?

-I know a wonderful shaman in Istanbul. -

He's also an exceptional close-up erotic magician.

Really? Fascinating. No, thank you.

Yeah, okay, that's all great.

-And I mean, I'm a little curious… -

…in what makes the magic erotic?

-He does dick tricks. - Okay. Yeah.

What's important is, can we please get back to the murder-witnessing?

Okay. While I was coming undone,

-Edgar was moving on. -

Where are the olives? You can't have a luncheon without olives.

Green olives. Black olives. Where are the olives?

I apologize for her. She's very passionate about stone fruit.

- -Oh, you've arrived.

Mother, there is someone I am very excited for you to meet.

-Oh. -Mrs. Minnows,

it is such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.

Oh, and it's such a delight to meet you, Gail.

-Mother. -What?

I told you, her name is Grace.

No, you-- you said last night at Scrabble that--

This is not up for debate.

Where are the olives?

How did I get it wrong? It didn't make any sense.

Mother, I've started seeing someone,

and I'd like to invite her to lunch tomorrow

if you feel you can handle it.

Well, of course I can. I've told you I'm fine.

This woman, she means the world to me.

And I kn-- I know she's incredibly eager to meet you as well.

-Oh. -Her name is…

Ah.

Where is she going?

Grace. A five-letter word for my insanity.

You're embarrassing me on purpose.

Oh, come on. Gail. Grace.

What difference does it make? Nobody cares.

Um, I care.

I care too.

Of course you do, Grace.

- -Ignore her.

I've tried to help you,

but I am afraid you are madder than a mad hatter at a hat haberdashery.

Huh, I really like that 'cause it's a tongue twister.

Madder than a mad hatter at a hat haberdashery.

I was devastated, but they were right.

And things were only getting worse.

The, um, sword that you ordered is here.

Sword. What sword?

I didn't order an oriental sword.

Oh, I don't think that you can call it that.

Well, it's a mistake.

Okay, well, your name is on the packing slip.

Purchased by. Sent to.

I had no memory of it.

Oh, that sword.

And it didn't stop.

Isabel, I'm in the bath.

-Why did you order a suit of armor? -I didn't.

There is a full suit of armor outside,

and I most certainly did not order it.

Or did I?

Isabel?

Are you feeling all right?

'Cause I'm actually having a really hard time.

So I told myself…

Get over it.

Okay.

But I couldn't get over it, so I decided to give in to it.

-What is all this? -Oh.

They call it a trampoline.

A trampoline?

Watch. Watch Mommy jump.

The mother I know does not bounce.

Look at Roxana. She's mortified. She's literally about to barf.

Today it's a trampoline. Yesterday it was a suit of armor, a sword.

You don't remember ordering any of this, I can tell.

I refuse to stand by and watch you fritter away everything

that Father worked so hard to create.

You're being very aggressive with me.

Father is dead.

He died in that plane crash into the Adirondack Mountains,

where his charred bones were likely chewed upon by wolves.

That means that it is my job to look after this family,

and I will do that.

I've spoken to Dr. Shulkind.

He thinks that it's time that we discuss conservatorship.

A conservatorship.

I'd be coddled like a child. Controlled. A fate worse than death.

What are you doing?

You're collapsing so slowly.