Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver

twitching.
    TOMMY: You just can’t see it.
    EMMA: If it were twitching I could see it.
    TOMMY: It’s twitching internally.
    EMMA: If you say so.
    TOMMY: Don’t patronize me.
    EMMA: I wouldn’t. I love you.
    TOMMY: Really?
    EMMA: Yes. I think about you all the time. I try to read, or brush my hair but all I think about is you. Sometimes I say your name over and over again, under my breath. No one can hear me, but I don’t care. It just feels good to say it.
    TOMMY: Thanks.
    EMMA: Try it sometime. You’ll see.
    (Grace enters, carrying shopping bags.)
    GRACE: Flo!
    EMMA: Mother. I’m so glad you’re home—
    GRACE: Help me with these, would you? It’s hot as an oven and my arm’s asleep. (Emma takes Grace’s bags. Seeing Tommy for the first time) Oh. Hello.
    EMMA: Mother, I’d like you to meet—
    GRACE: I must look unbearable. The sidewalk is melting and I would swear that I actually saw someone fry an egg.
    TOMMY: It’s very warm.
    GRACE: Goodness, I’m exhausted. I’ve had the most horrible day.
    EMMA: Mother—
    GRACE: I’ve been to the city—I picked up the most cunning little black sheath, Dolce & Gabbana, and a sweet suit, so Issey Miyake!
    EMMA: Mother—
    GRACE (Adjusting her hair and makeup) : I used to enjoy shopping. When I married your father it was a real event to go into the city, have lunch in the sunshine, in RittenhouseSquare. Everyone was well mannered and well groomed. People wore hats. Now. Now, the Square is filled with hobos needing a bath and a companion. Really. They just stagger about in the sunlight, dirty and talking to themselves about the fall of communism and whatnot. I don’t know. I tried, but I couldn’t follow a word of it. They all just want money, anyway. You can’t encourage them. Give them a coin, they talk your ear off.
    EMMA: Mother.
    GRACE (Finally looking up) : Yes, dear?
    EMMA: This is Tommy McKorckle— (To Tommy) stand up straight.
    TOMMY: How do you do?
    GRACE: It’s nice to meet you. Emma so seldom brings around boys.
    EMMA: Mother.
    TOMMY: The pleasure is mine.
    GRACE: Isn’t that charming? He’s charming. You’re charming.
    TOMMY: I like your dress.
    GRACE (Ringing a small bell on an end table) : Thank you. I need a hot drink and a cold bath—or vice versa.
    TOMMY: It suits you.
    GRACE: “A+” for charm.
    EMMA: Mother, I’d like to talk to you.
    GRACE: Oh, Emma. This may not be the day. I’m exhausted.
    TOMMY: Maybe we should wait.
    EMMA: Tommy.
    GRACE: Look at me—if you dare—I’ve perspired through my clothing. I’m a wreck.
    TOMMY: Not at all.
    GRACE: You’re sweet. I need a quick drink and a long bath, or the other way around —(She rings the bell again) Where’s Flo?
    EMMA: Who?
    GRACE: Flo, dear. Where is she?
    EMMA: I don’t know anyone named “Flo.” Is she with you?
    GRACE: The maid. Flo, our maid.
    EMMA: Flo?
    GRACE: Flo. Florence. You remember Flo. Wears wigs, walks with a limp.
    EMMA (Discouraged) : Oh I don’t know.
    GRACE: You must excuse my daughter, Mr.—
    TOMMY: McKorckle.
    GRACE: Yes. She forgets things.
    EMMA: I write things down. I try to concentrate. But facts run through me like Chinese food.
    TOMMY: I think it’s sweet.
    GRACE: Do you. Really? Lord, I’m thirsty. (She rings again) Where could she be? I hope she’s all right. I hope nothing’s happened to her.
    EMMA (Asserting herself) : We have to talk, Mother.
    GRACE: Can’t it wait?
    EMMA: No.
    GRACE: I’m exhausted and I seem to be without a staff.
    TOMMY: Maybe tomorrow.
    EMMA: We have to assert ourselves.
    GRACE: Oh what is it?
    EMMA: Well, I wanted you to meet Tommy—
    GRACE: And I have. May I bathe now?
    EMMA (Blurting it out) : Because we’re going to get married!
    (Pause.)
    GRACE: Pardon me?
    EMMA: That’s it. That’s what I wanted to say. That’s what I’ve said. We’re