Mother Mary

"You are a carcinogen,"

I would say to her.

"You are a tumor,

"whose malignancy has defined

"the ebb and flow of all I've done,

"of all I've tried to do.

"And yet, in spite of that,

"do you know how much space you occupy

"in the entirety of me?

"This much.

"You define my life,

"and yet, this is how much you matter to me.

"If you hadn't shown up on my door this morning,

"I'd have gladly gone the rest of my days

"thinking of you regularly,

"but from a distance,

"flung from your orbit.

"But now...

"you are here

"and the bile is rising and taking the form of words.

"And what these words mean is,

"never have I known

"how closely love and hate are bound

"than when I think of you and realize

"you deserve neither."

I hadn't seen her in over 10 years.

But I could tell she was coming from a mile away.

More than a mile.

A thousand miles.

I woke up that morning with a taste in my mouth

I hadn't felt in years.

Is it... Is it a bit too rigid here at the waist?

How do you feel? You feel okay?

Yeah. I just... It's...

- I do love how bold it is. - Yeah.

A whole new you.

I cast it out of my mind,

but as the day went on,

the taste left my mouth

and traveled to that space behind my eyes

where it settled and turned thick.

By the time the late flights from LAX to Heathrow

were coming in for their landing,

I felt as if a secret twin had grown in my skull.

What's wrong? Are you okay?

It was calling,

shouting,

screaming,

telling me

it was coming.

She was coming.

She was here.

Uh, hi. Excuse me. Hi. Can I help you?

I'm looking for Sam.

Oh, I'm afraid Sam isn't available right now.

Are you...

Does Sam know you were coming?

No, no.

Okay, uh...

Well, then could I just ask you to just wait, uh...

Sam?

Sam?

Um...

- Sam? - Sorry, you really can't...

Uh... Sam?

Sam's not seeing anybody

- right now. - Sam?

Sam, I'm so sorry.

I didn't see her coming, she just came in.

Sam, I need a dress.

Just landed?

Yes. From LA?

Yes, I just came from...

Would you like something to eat?

- Uh... No, I... - Hilda,

do we... do we have anything to eat here?

Um, not really, no.

Okay. Well, there you go.

Does anyone know you're here?

- No. -I... I...

I must say, I wish you had called.

You might have noticed we're a little underwater

- at the moment. - Would you have answered?

No, but somebody would have.

And they could have told you we're very busy.

Sam has her show coming up.

Oh.

Sorry.

For not calling or for just showing up?

In general.

Wouldn't you rather get more specific?

I just never had the chance to say it before,

- so... - So the onus is on me then,

to list off your offenses one by one

and cross-check them

against the totality of your "I'm sorry"?

Oh, well.

That hardly seems worth it, does it?

Making me do all the work,

- just like you always do. - I can go

if you want.

If you want to go, go.

If you want to stay, stay.

If you want to apologize, you go for it.

But if you stay,

please stop doing

that hovering thing you always do,

because it makes me very nervous.

- Sorry. - You already said that.

- I mean it. - Say it two more times,

so I believe you.

But not yet.

Catch me by surprise with your sincerity.

Now, why don't you start with why you're here?

I really do need a dress.

What, you don't have a whole coterie of stylists

to take care of that for you?

No, I do. But it's not...

working out.

And this performance, when is it?

The 31st.

- That's on Sunday? - Yes.

And today is?

Thursday.

Well, that's impossible.

What's wrong with the dress you have?

I'm assuming you have one.

It's just all wrong.

May I see it?

- So that's it? -Yes.

It's not a dress at all.

Who made it?

Saracen & Pare.

Hmm.

Tell me three things that are wrong with it.

It doesn't feel like me.

Okay. It doesn't feel like you. That's one.

That's it.

That's it?

- Yes. - So you,

who have been dressed by everyone

and worn everything,

who once paraded down a red... ...carpet

wearing nothing but freshly poured honey,

you have somehow found

the one outfit in all of creation

that doesn't feel like you?

Yes.

And you've come crawling back to me

because you know I can do better?

- Yes. - Because I, above all others,

know you?

Because I didn't know where else to go.

Truly?

Yes.

Will you let me do whatever I like?

Yes. But...

Will you do exactly as I say?

Yes, within...

And will you wear what I make?

Yes.

And can you stop time?

Just did.

This is really going to take some doing,

if we're gonna pull this off.

Just tell me what I can do.

You can just keep talking.

That's how this works.

You tell me something like how you're feeling,

and I'll take those feelings and turn them into a dress.

The transubstantiation of feeling.

That's what we're doing here.

Here we are.

Now, as you can see,

I've entered my Ms. Havisham period

very much ahead of schedule.

This is where I come to cry my eyes out in the dark.

Stand here, please.

Now, uh...

I haven't had a new idea in ages.

Not a good one, at least.

So if we're to do this,

I'm just gonna have to fasten things to you

until inspiration strikes.

There we go.

Uh, can I take your sweater?

Yes.

- Thank you. - Mmm-hmm.

So...

So tell me more about this dress we're making.

What do you see in your head?