One True Thing

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

Let go. Let go. Stop.

And Richard Ellespeare died.

He was a professor of mine at Harvard.

No.

I got it.

"He was a novelist and humanitarian."

Hey, hey, hey, back there.

"Published eight novels including the..."

- Stop it. - "...best seller, Hope's Way,

"for which he won the Pulitzer Prize."

Give it! Stop it! Give it!

What kind of man was this?

A man who pursued excellence and nothing less.

Dad?

Yes?

I have to go to the bathroom.

Oh.

Can't you hold it till we get there?

Mmm, yes. I guess...

I can practice mind over matter.

That a girl.

I don't know.

Oh, look at the baby cows, Ellie. Oh, my God.

Look at them.

I'm reading, Mom. And baby cows are calves.

I was never close to my mother growing up.

Is that something Mr. Best is going to use against me?

Ellen, the D.A.'s not gonna use anything against you.

Okay. Uh, because, well, I, I agreed to do this

because Mrs. Best, his wife, was a friend of my mother's.

Do I need an attorney?

Nobody in this office is accusing you of anything.

We're well aware that

this kind of thing happens all the time with terminal patients.

It's, it's a small town. People talk.

The D.A. wants to be able to say that he looked into it,

and he can put it to bed.

What can I say? It's an election year.

Anyway, were you aware that an autopsy was being performed

on your mother's body?

Yes. Uh-huh. At her request.

Uh, actually, to find out the source of the disease.

Primarily for my benefit.

Mmm-hmm.

Where are you living now?

In New York.

I've been there since I finished Harvard.

First thing in the morning.

Okay, so I'll meet you for coffee.

This goddamn living in the suburbs is gonna kill me.

Hey, Tweedy, the Beardstown Ladies

predict a stock market crash next month.

Finish the captions on the junk shop, Casey.

They're antiques.

- I got a one-ten pulse. Have to check this again. - Tweedy!

This story is too good.

Senator Sullivan, youngest guy ever to be elected to the Senate.

His father was a drug dealer.

He overcomes that. Excuse me.

Is on his way to big things, possibly the presidency.

Until he crashes his car into a tree, kills everyone inside,

- while he's on cocaine. - That was actually the final draft.

I mean, this is not just good, this is great.

Shakespearean!

Sins of the father revisited on the son, etcetera, etcetera.

We've got no interview. He's not talking. He's checking into rehab.

I can get him to talk. I promise you. I have a way in.

Some people in town are describing you as cold and insensitive.

Pulse, one-eighteen. Gulden, don't waste time.

Um, "Ambition is Ellen Gulden's religion.

"She's condescending, she's remote..." Whatever.

Well, I was ambitious. I still am.

My father taught me to work very hard at everything I do,

and I always have.

I'm not tired.

So, you were living a pretty normal life in New York?

Mmm-hmm.

- Apartment? - Mmm-hmm.

- Roommate? - No, no roommate.

- Boyfriend? - Boyfriend.

Honey, please just let me explain.

Jordan, just get out of here.

I don't want to see you anymore.

Come on. I got... I'm standing out here.

I got wine, candles. I got the whole kit.

Just go away, Jordan.

El, can I just talk to you for five minutes, please? I'll explain everything.

We were together since...

Go away!

...senior year in college.

This one was the last time, okay?

Well, not together. We, uh, we took breaks, you know?

A lot of breaks.

That's mean. That's not funny.

He just needed some space.

Space named Linda.

I'm sorry, was that her name? Lori? I don't remember.

- Oh, you're so mean. - Is that not her name?

You're just so mean.

Don't get me wrong. I like him. I've...

Of course, it was, um, Jules, my best girlfriend,

who, uh, came home with me to celebrate my father's birthday.

Jordan, um, as usual, had something he had to do.

Well, this ought to be good.

"Come as your favorite literary character."

I don't know why my mom can't just throw a normal birthday party.

Ellie, it's gonna be perfectly fine.

Thank you. Thanks.

- Hey! - Whoo-hoo!

- Hey! - Hi!

- Hi! - Hi!

Oh, good hat.

- Really good hat. Really good everything. - Uh-huh!

Thanks. What'd you guys come dressed as?

The Sylvia Plath twins?

Oh, Brian, you know I can't do costumes.

- Why? - It's just so...

- Human? - Mom.

So, what have you guys been up to?

Oh, my God. It's writing and deadlines.

- Ooh. Mmm-hmm. - Take me away.

Okay.

Oh, wait! Somebody just finished summer school, didn't he?

Congratulations.

- That's great. - Actually, I didn't finish.

What?

I, Brian Gulden, son of Mr. American Literature and the Romantics,

failed American Literature.

You're serious?

Yeah.

Well, way to go.

How did you do that?

I blew the test, Ellen.

Brian...

Did you tell Dad?

No.

Just 'cause I'm failing doesn't make me a moron.

Yoo-hoo! Hi.

There she is!

- Hi, Mom. - Your dad's not here. The coast is clear.

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

- Mmm. Hi, Jules. - Hi.

- Whoo! - Hi.

- Good to see you. - You, too.

- Let me get your... - Oh, no, no, no. I got it.

- Are you sure? - Yeah, yeah.

- Okay. - Thanks. Oh, thank you.

Wow.

You caught a cab?

You know, I would have sent Brian to come and pick you up.

- You should have told me. - Oh, that's okay.

Come in. Come in, come in, come in.

God, this must have taken you days.

Oh, well, thanks.

Jules, you look wonderful.

Oh, thanks. I just cut my hair.

Oh, it looks gorgeous.

Well, your hair looks great, too.

Oh, thank you. Oh... It's yarn. Look.

- Oh. - Guess who I am?

Mmm. Oh.

Oh, wait!

Clue.

Oh.

If I only had a brain

A heart, a brain...

However it goes.

Oh, well, you're right. As usual.

So, let me see. Who are you?

- Uh... - Oh.

Don't tell me. Let me guess.

Actually, you know what? We, we kind of forgot.

But it was only because we were trying to hurry,

'cause of course, we wanted to be here on time.

- So... - Oh.

- God, that cake looks so good. - Oh.

So, we're just us.

That's okay.

That's okay, Ellie. That's... Oh!

But I have an idea.

I do have a Thanksgiving costume upstairs.

- I could whip something up for you. - That's okay.

- You don't have to. - It's a turkey.

No, really, it's okay. It's all right.

- Can I help you with anything? - Oh, yes, thanks.

You could take those dishes, put them in the buffet.

- Sure. - Um, and Ellie.

Ellie?

You can...

Keep, keep, uh, slicing the bread with this knife.

- Okay. - Thank you.

I read your piece on Geraldine Ferraro.

- My brilliant daughter. - Hmm.

I was so proud of you.

It's no big deal. It's just a little follow-up piece.

Back and forth. Saw it.

Do you think that Dad read it?

Oh, I'm sure he did. You know your dad.

But he doesn't talk shop with me.