-Well, don't forget Babe. -Oh.
She said she'd get that back to me. She did not say she'd be in it.
Good one, Babe.
- It was a beautiful memorial. - It was. It was also a bit weird.
I mean, I love the idea of putting my hand on my neighbor's heart, but...
Well, the guy standing next to me seemed to enjoy it.
And it all comes down to this.
Being carried around in an old flea market find.
I know. I'm sad, too.
-It's not just Babe. -Phil?
Yeah, that, too. But...
Oh, I don't know, it's my whole life.
Well, death has a way of doing that to people.
But, you know, Babe devoured life.
You know? She never settled for anything.
Up to the very last minute.
She always knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go out and get it.
Yeah. As opposed to me, who still doesn't know what she wants.
Oh, gosh, I know this is an important conversation, but look, presents!
They're from Babe!
Just like Babe to get you a little something for killing her.
Oh...
"Darling Frankie, I was told these brushes
are the exact ones Picasso used to paint Guernica.
If this proves wrong, you should know
I still had a terrific time sleeping with two Spaniards to get them.
The postcard is the main event, anyway."
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
"I've rented the gallery space, you just need to fill it.
You've got one month. Get crackin', toots.
All my love and eternal thanks.
Literally, my eternal thanks.
Love, Babe."
This is really sweet.
What did you get?
Let's see.
Mmm.
You get something inspiring and artful, and I get a vibrator?
Maybe that's your paintbrush, Grace.
"Dearest Grace,
this is even better than drinking
and it won't make your face puffy.
And it won't break your heart. Love, Babe."
-That is a good vibrator. -It is?
Much better than the ones with the pull start.
Makes you feel like you're using a chainsaw.
Yeah, totally. I hate those.
Ha! They don't exist! Trick question!
There was no question.
The question is: "Have you ever used one?" Answer: "No."
I use... I-- Other things.
Other than a man's penis, what have you used?
A man's penis.
Never used a vibrator! This really explains so much.
Look, sister, start that sucker up and get to it.
I need to get to it, too, because I've got a show in four weeks.
It's kind of like a microphone.
Oh, it'll make you sing.
Jeez, how do they expect you to read this?
"Dishwasher safe."
Oh, well, that's something.
You know what else Thoreau said?
"No man is so poor he must sit on a pumpkin."
So, yeah, they weren't all gems.
As an artist, I've had a few that weren't gems, too.
But this... you are the crown jewel.
Oh, Goddess knows, even dead,
you're still more fun than Count Drinkula over there.
Thank you for reminding me I'm an artist.
You have something on your nose.
Sol! Sol, it's Frankie,
the artist formerly known as your wife.
Yes, I remember you.
You're the quiet one.
The one who threw paint on Burt Reynolds' fur coat.
What can I do for you?
Well, first, you should know I have an art show three weeks from now
at the Lotus Gallery, seven to nine p.m. Wine and cheese offered.
It's a retrospective with new works.
Congratulations. That's amazing.
I know.
And any true Frankie B. retrospective has to include Hitler's Circumcision.
I could see why you'd say that. Uh-huh.
So, I need K. Loggins' contact info.
You know, uh, Kenny Loggins is not a client anymore
and he's very private.
I'm not sure I'm comfortable with your calling him.
Well, then you call him.
Sol, this is important.
He has to be there.
He's the man who legitimized me as an artist.
I think you're giving Kenny way too much power.
Selling a painting isn't what makes you an artist.
Oh, tell that to the IRS.
-But-- -Call Kenny!
Okay.
Thank you and goodbye.
You're not going to tell her, are you?
Yes, you are. I can see it on your face.
What choice do I have?
How about never telling her?
Which part should I never tell her?
That it was Larry who did Kenny Loggins' divorce?
Or that he never bought her painting?
-All of the above. -I feel terrible.
You shouldn't! You did it out of the kindness of your heart.
She was going through a hard time
and it was the greatest gift you ever gave her.
She's been dining out on that story for years.
It still makes her happy. Please just let it alone.
But she's never going to stop until she gets that painting.
She's sent me six text messages since we hung up
-and they all say "Kenny Loggins." -Here's what you do.
You go to the garage, you dig it out,
you say you got it back from him, and he sends his best.
I don't know.
Oh! Just tell her Kenny Loggins is giving her painting back
'cause "everybody's gotta footloose."
I don't know.
Grace. Oh, things are happening in my studio.
You're not having spider races again, are you?
I am in a creative fury like never before.
I am en fuego.
I have birthed a work that may have even surpassed Hitler's Circumcision.
Which, as you may remember, is in--
"Is in the private collection of one Mr. Kenny Loggins."
Well, this you don't know. He's coming to my opening.
-Really? -After I ask him.
He's a collector. He's a fan. And he has been since--
"The day he bought it right off the wall in Sol's office."
Oh, but you're not capturing the energy of it.
What happened? Did you fall? You should have yelled.
Is it broken? Oh, my God.
Why didn't you yell? Was that you yelling last night?
I'm fine. It's nothing. I just need to rest it.
-Rest it? From what? -From things that hands do.
I mean, what is with this third degree here?
I do hand things. I like to wave.
No, no, no.
What are you hiding, Grace?
As an emotion wizard I sense your defensiveness.
I'm not defensive.
What I'm struggling with is, you say your hand is in trauma
and yet your pallor is... a flush pink of renewal.
Hold it. Uh-oh.
You haven't been doing hand things, you've been doing hand jobs.
On yourself.
How was it? Walk me through it.
Well, it was-- Frankie, look, there's a drone!
Oh, son of a bitch! Get my T-shirt cannon!
-Hey! Ooh, my cake. -Hey.
That's not funny.
You have no idea the pain of being a leapling.
No, but I heard about it every birthday not divisible by four.
And I read your horrible short story, The Last Leaper.
It's a novella.
-Ah. -Hi.
I can't believe you're already eight years old.
-Believe it. -So tall.
Hey, Mom. I'm really sorry about Babe.
Thank you, honey.
I mean, I wish all my friends were dead,
but I imagine it's really sad when it actually starts happening.
It's not the best time of life.
And yet here you are training for the uneven bars at the next Olympics.
Oh, it's just my arthritis flaring up.
I've gotten back into calligraphy.
It's good you have something to do.
All right, I gotta go break Bud's balls.
-Budlas. -Excuse me.
I hope you like your gift, the store was out of puberty.
Yeah? Well, the same store...
said you're a bitch.
Yeah, that's why I shop there.
Oh, it's a sad party.
Happy birthday, Bud.
Hello. Did you bring the cornbread?
Oh. Calligraphy!
Since when do you do calligraphy?
Since you took me to see the Constitution
and I said, "Oh, that's pretty." What's all this?
Oh, well, we've been going through a lot of stuff and we're downsizing,
so I put some things aside I thought you might want.
That is really thoughtful. Thank you.
I'm a very thoughtful man.
With a few notable exceptions. So, what's in here?
I have no idea. I asked Hildy to put them together for you.
You had the housekeeper pack them up?
Well, how would I know what you'd want?
Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe being married to me for 40 years
would've given you some clues.
Did you talk to him?
In fact, I did. And...
-I got your painting back for you. -Ah! Kenny!
It still packs a punch.
-Can I have his number now? -Why?
Because he'll want to be there. Plus I want him to do a blurb.
Plus he'll probably want another Frankie B. original.
I'll give him the VIP treatment. As my biggest patron,
he can have a swag bag with Skittles and a whistle.
I guess I'll just have to ask him for you.
Yeah, but you're not gonna sell it. I think it should come from me.
-I'll work on it. -Tick-tock, pal.
Oh, there you are. How you feeling, sweetheart? Are you hungry?
You want to lie down? You want something to drink?
No! No more liquids. Just some absorbent food.
Maybe some Triscuits. Or couch stuffing.
So where's Mitch?
He is on a whitewater rafting trip with his fraternity brothers.
Ah, good. Guy time.
Sounds like he's definitely not having sex with other women.
No, it's all gonna be okay. I spoke to him.
He just needed some alone time before shit hits the fan.
-The little shits. -I'm glad to hear it.
-I'm glad to say it. -I gotta go.
No. No. Ah. Mm. I gotta go again.
-I'll go upstairs. -Okay.
Hey, Mallory, what's going on with Mitch?
Nothing...
I was a little paranoid he might be cheating,
but it's all fine now.
-Do you want to talk about it? -No, thanks. I'm good.
-You sure? -Yeah, Dad and Sol were really helpful.
I do have a lot of experience in this area.
Yeah, but what is it that they say?
That you always get better advice from the con man than the dupe.
Wow.
No, Mom, I didn't mean it like that--
Oh, I know what you meant.
Mmm.
Hello, is this Barney's BBQ Hut?
Hi, Jeff. You probably get this all the time, but I read an article
that said Kenny Loggins enjoyed a meal at your restaurant in the fall of 1988.
Do you have any way of getting in touch with him?
-Hey, Mom. -Oh, honey. I'm on the phone.
Uh, Jeff? Hello? Hello?
What's up?
Well, actually, I have a little favor to ask you.
Mm-hmm. I'm not watching your lizard.
No, it's not about Spencer.
Um, Bud has a girl coming to town this weekend and--
You need me to pretend to be your girlfriend for a double date.
I get it. I suppose I could dust off the old peasant skirt.
No. Not that. No. Never that.
Um, I was thinking since you're not doing anything,
I could come crash with you.
You know, give them a little privacy.
Give us a little Mom-Coyote time. Movies. Puzzles.
It'll be just like the last time I stayed with you, but without the DT's.
Well, I--
And I'd ask Dad, it just seems like they've got so much going on right now.
And you and Grace are just hanging out.
Well, I suppose it'll be fine.
Uh, Sol!
Quit ducking me, man. I need Kenny's digits now.
Well, why don't you just contact him through his website?
He doesn't have a website! He lives on a farm!
No. Yeah. He's got a website. See? It's right here.
You can buy Kenny Loggins' Zinfandel.
Oh, you can't. But I'd bet he'd want to donate a case to the opening.
-Here, give me the phone. Here. -No!
Hey! That's Bud's phone.
He's gonna be so mad.
Frankie, could I talk to you in the other room?
Okay.
Try to stay calm, and remember,
I did what I did to make you happy.
What'd you do?
There is no Kenny Loggins.
There never was.
It was me.
Really, Sol? You wrote "Higher Love"?
That was Steve Winwood.
Who the hell is that?
I'm trying to tell you that Kenny Loggins
never bought your painting.
I made the whole thing up.
What?
You were having such a hard time with your art.
Your kiln had exploded. You thought you were going color-blind.
I just wanted to give you a win.
So Kenny Loggins never even saw my painting?
No, he did!
He came into our office,
and I specifically remember him looking at it and saying "huh."
And it wasn't the "huh" you'd expect to get
when someone sees a portrait of Hitler in a law office.
This "huh" was a recognition of obvious talent.
I told everyone about that painting, Sol.
It was my whole life.
It was the one thing I had to hang on to.
It was the one thing I had that made me think I was a real artist.
Wait... You're leaving?
I'm sorry, but, yes, I think I am.
But I won't be nine for another four years.
I know, honey. But I'm upset, and time is a construct.
Well, what could be so bad that you're leaving my party?
Well, to be honest, your father just told me something--
Okay, you know what? I don't want to hear it.
The past two years have been about my father and my mother,
and I'd like for one day to be about me.
I only get that every four years.
You're right, I hear you. Bring it.
-Disperse! -Oh, God.
- Again? - It never ends!
What is wrong with this picture?
How the hell do you drink these things?
Usually not with a sugar rim.
Well, it's a horrible olive delivery system.
You okay?
No, not even close. Horrible. Miserable.
You want to talk about it?
No.
Because if I start, I won't stop, and it'll ruin this party,
which is already on pretty thin ice.
Well, if it makes you feel any better, it turns out the person in my family
who has the highest regard for me is our old housekeeper.
Ow.
Man, you went to town on yourself.
Honestly, my arthritis flared up about 30 seconds in.
I played through the pain.
Left it all on the field.
Maybe it's your technique.
I mean, are you doing the-- Are you after this kind of deal?
Like rough thrusting?
Or do you kind of like, hmm, roam around and then slip it in at a slight angle?
You know, you can get one that has a little thing that was,
uh, operates separately. It will-- And then--
Or what about vertical? Is that what you're really looking for?
Look, it's not about the, you know, the angle, it's about the grip.
Right in here. You know, they didn't design these things for older women.
Why does everything have to hurt when you're our age?
Well, try another one.
Maybe you just haven't found the right cookie rumbler yet.
I looked. Online. Nothing.
You know, my friend Clifford loves to knit
and he has hands like bouquets of turkey jerky.
He uses bamboo needles with a soft gel sleeve.
Hmm.
Are you suggesting I use his knitting needles?
No.
Well...
No.
Where's your boyfriend?
I like him. Why would I bring him here?
Mmm.
"For Grace. Thinking of you. With love, Robert."
Wow!
Ohh...
"Happy Anniversary. To Grace, from Robert with love."
Hm.
"Sorry you had a bad day.
Love, Robert." "Just because. Love, Robert."
"To Grace. Happy Birthday."
"Thanks for the help. Love, Robert."
"I miss you too. Love, Robert." "Love, Robert." "Love, Robert."
"Congratulations. You won."
- This is not going to hurt. - Oh, well done, Sol.
Well done.
Seriously?
Oh, I forgot all about those.
Why would you do this?
So I was prepared for any occasion.
So, for example, I'd had a bad day, you'd come to the box and give me a gift.
-That you bought years earlier. -Yes. Except they were in a drawer then.
-Big picture, Robert. -Ooh, pretty.
I don't understand the problem.
The problem is you don't understand the problem.
- I don't. - They're not personal!
This feels like a jar of treats for a dog!
So, you're saying you don't want any of these?
It most certainly is personal.
I picked out each and every one of them with you in mind.
From that store you like.
Oh, Robert, it doesn't matter where you got them.
- It's why you got them. - I give up.
I don't buy you a gift, you're mad. I do buy you a gift, you're mad.
-Those aren't the only options. -No, they are not.
-Would you do this to Sol? -No, he would not!
Don't bring me into this.
Would you go out and buy him 30 pairs of huaraches?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
I used to think, "God, how nice.
Robert went out and got me something because he knew I was sad."
Or "Robert got me something special
because he knew I was right and he was wrong."
But that wasn't it at all.
It wasn't for me at all. It was for you!
So you didn't have to deal with me.
So you didn't even have to think about me.
We'd have a fight and you'd give me a gift from your stash.
I used to think you gave me gifts because,
I don't know, you weren't a talker.
But it was to keep me quiet. Huh? To manage me. To handle me.
Never, not once was it because you loved me.
I never understood our marriage until right now.
For God sakes, Grace, we're divorced. Aren't we past this?
-Well, I'm not. -Where is this coming from?
I am still being treated the way I was for 40 years,
and I am not gonna settle for it anymore.
Neither am I. I've got a belly full of rage and martini.
Sol lied to me about Kenny Loggins.
He never bought my painting.
Yes! Yes, he did.
Yeah, we've heard that story a billion times.
Yeah. Yeah. "He saw it on the wall at Dad's office"--
No! Lies, lies! All lies!
You can't compare this lie to my other lies.
The other lies were self-serving. This one was for you.
-How generous of you. -Oh, come on, Frankie.
-No. You humiliated me. -I was trying to help!
I believed in you and I wanted you to believe in you.
Oh, if you believed in me
you would not have sold me a bag of magic beans.
He had the best of intentions.
Oh, he always does when he lies.
Apparently, he thinks I'm a child he has to coddle.
Okay. Okay, everyone, let's--
Let's just all take a breath.
-Mom, I get that this sucks... -No.
...but Dad's heart was in the right place.
No, what about my heart?
Does anyone get why I am royally cheesed?
Yeah, I get it. I think. What's "cheesed"?
She's wicked pissed.
Oh, yeah. Then I do get it, because I'm really cheesed, too.
At least Sol humored her out of love. What were you coming from?
Oh, right, expediency.
Oh, fine. Take me to court. I'd love to hear your argument.
"Your Honor, my ex-husband is a very bad man
because he bought me presents."
In bulk! Like you buy toilet paper!
Mom, don't you think you're being a little hard on Dad?
I mean, he did think of you.
Just because they think they were being nice doesn't mean they were.
Just to circle back, Mom, all of this jewelry is free and clear now?
Sol, don't you understand how disrespectful you were being?
You're acting as if I was trying to hurt her when it was just the opposite.
I was not belittling her or dismissing her.
Oh, really? Because "her" is in the room and you keep calling her "her."
It feels a little dismissive to her.
I can't believe that you of all people--
Yeah, you, are talking about being disrespectful to our mother.
Because we had front-row seats for your drunken outburst.
Oh, you're bad at this. You're bad at calming people down.
I didn't mean those things. I was angry, but I didn't mean them.
I didn't. I swear. I'm so sorry.
-Apology accepted. Mmm. -I'm so sorry.
But that doesn't mean I'm not royally cheesed at the rest of you.
- What did we do? - You!
You turned me into a little old lady who's losing her mind
and shouldn't even be allowed to drive.
And I'm just a dupe who couldn't possibly have any good advice to give.
-And you-- -Oh, God.
You said you wouldn't hire me because I'd overshadow you.
But I gave you the first new idea that Say Grace has had since you took over--
Well, we gave you the first idea, and you never acknowledged it.
You took credit for it and then you threw Frankie to the curb.
Mom, you try being in business with her.
Well, I might. I will.
-I am! -You are?
Well, yeah. We talked about it.
- Oh, yes. We talked about it. - What are we doing?
What are we doing? I'll tell you what we're doing. We're...
We're making vibrators for women with arthritis.
Yes! Vibrators! Brilliant!
-Please let my water break! -I think I just blacked out.
Oh, grow up. Older women masturbate too.
-Mom! -And we have vaginas.
Why is it every time my family gathers for a meal
someone has to bring up my mother's vagoo?
-Just say "woodle" like a grownup. -Okay.
I highly doubt there's a vibrator market
for geriatric women with arthritis.
There is. I'm in agony.
It takes a lot longer for us to get off, Sol.
-Oh! -That's cold, Mom.
She's right. Our blood doesn't flow as easily
-and our genital tissue is more delicate. -Stop.
-I did some reading. -Oh, God.
The more effort it takes to orgasm, the more you irritate it,
and the more it inflames your arthritis.
And I mean shouldn't older women have it better than that?
Couldn't we fight for the right to masturbate after lunch?
Seriously, Mom. How do I explain to my children
that their grandma makes sex toys for other grandmas?
I'll tell you what you can tell them, honey.
We're making things for people like us,
because we are sick and tired of being dismissed by people like you.
Mic drop. Let's go home.
Oh, um, if you guys are going, I should probably go with you.
No, no, you're gonna have to do your Mom-and-Coyote time somewhere else,
because we've got a lot going on at our house.
Yeah.
What do you think of these?
Yeah, I'm gonna take these definitely.
Babe would be proud of us.
Don't talk about Babe like she's not here.
Sorry. Sorry.
I feel bad. I ruined Bud's birthday party.
But we made a hell of an exit, didn't we?
Oh, we did.
Are we still gonna do this business thing?
Yes. Easy-grip vibrators with large-print instructions.
Absorbent, non-hideous panties for women
who suffer from bladder control issues.
"Don't have time to get to the bathroom? Why bother?"
You know, why don't we call them "Why Bothers"?
But you know something? We can do anything we want.
Right, Babe?
-She said, "Right." -I heard her.
You know, if I ever wanted to do what Babe did--
I mean, I won't, but if I ever did...
you'd be the one I'd ask.
You too, Mama.
Shake.
Babe! Oh, shit! Help me scoop her up!
-No! -Before the wind takes her away!
I don't even like to touch people when they're alive.
Babe loves the beach.
Oh!
I got some Babe in my mouth.
Savory.
Yeah, a little...