Bettes house 8:30 p.m.
Bette takes a long swallow out of a bottle of water. She hears a quick knock, Alice pushes the front door open, she pokes her head in. Bette smiles.
Come in, Alice. I'm here.
Hey.
Alice steps in. Bette calls over her shoulder.
Want something to drink?
Nah, Ill wait til we get to the restaurant.
Alice walks towards the larger wall, squinting at the off-white patches that stain the color. She absently touches one with her fingertips, not looking at Bette as she walks by.
So, um how's the redecorating going?
Bette chuckles softly as she walks into the bathroom.
Better.
It's still kinda damp. Was Max just here?
Bette leans towards the mirror, applying the last of her makeup. She speaks out of the corner of her mouth as she dabs at her eyelid.
No. It's the damn heat, I think. Some of them don't seem to be drying very well. I think I need to turn the air conditioning up.
Alice presses on a patch, she studies the indentation as it bubbles back out. She presses it lightly again.
I don't know Bette, it might be Max. I mean, when did he learn construction? He gets his di -
Alice!
I'm just saying he was a girl like four months ago and now all of a sudden he's got peach fuzz and a buzzsaw?
Bette stops brushing her mascara on and turns around, frowning.
It's a sander, not a buzzsaw. And he's very sweet for doing it.
Alice rolls her eyes as Bette turns back around. She rubs her fingers together and sneers at the small globs of sticky spackle.
If you say so. You know, um, Bette, if you ever start bringing the chicks home again, theyre gonna wonder if you have rats or something. Don't rats chew holes in the wall?
Bette looks up, looks into the mirror. She purses her lips, she smiles, she picks up the mascara wand again.
No one's asked me about rats, Alice.
Alice leans closer to another patch, she strokes the silky texture, pushing again on an uneven spot, pressing a dimple with her fingertips.
Well, that's good cause you wouldn't want some hot little number to think you - what???
Alices fingertips break through the patch. Spackle crumbles and falls to the floor as she wrenches her hand, now buried in the wall up to the wrist, free. She wheels around quickly, damp drywall bits clinging to her wrist and sleeve, drier pieces flinging into the air. She brushes her wrist furiously as she runs towards the bathroom. She stands in the doorway, hands on her hips. Bette sighs, she smiles to herself as she speaks, her voice stern.
Alice, did you just make a hole in my wall?
Uh, yeah, sorry. Technically it was - fuck it -- what did you just say?
Bette blots her lips with a tissue.
I said no one has asked me about rats. This isn't really the kind of neighborhood youd expect to see rats and besides, I don't think they chew their way out of a wall, I think they chew their way in. Youd need to have rats to begin with, in the house, in order to --
Bette, stop talking about rats. I didn't mean the rats.
Bette patiently traces a thin etching of lip liner.
I didn't bring them up, Alice, you did.
You've brought someone home? Here?
Bette holds up the lip liner, examining the point. She shakes her head, she again leans in and finishes the line.
Yes.
Oh my fucking god. When? Who? How?
Bette wrinkles her nose, her eyes still twinkling as she speaks slowly.
How, Alice?
Ok, forget how. When? More importantly, who???
Bette steps back from the sink. She shakes her hair slightly, leans in again.
You don't know them.
Them? It was a them? Two? Three? Jesus, you really jump back in the game, don't you?
Bette laughs. She throws the tissue away, she turns and flicks the light switch off, she walks past an open-mouthed Alice. Alice finally wheels around, following close at Bettes heels.
Bette?? Bette, come on. Spill it.
Don't we have to get going?
We have time.
I don't want to keep them waiting.
They won't spoil, I checked their dates before I left. So, who were they?
It wasn't a them, Alice.
So only one then?
No, several, but not in the same evening, for heaven's sake.
