All language subtitles for mildred pierce.S01E02

♪ I’m always ♪

♪ Chasing rainbows ♪

♪ Watching clouds ♪

♪ Drifting by ♪

♪ My schemes ♪

♪ Are just like
all my dreams... ♪

Father!

Come over here!

Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!

Look at both of you.

I think you’ve gotten
taller since last week,
when I saw you at Grandma’s.

Who’s the tallest?
Let’s play who’s grown
the best.

Me, me, me.
Yep, two inches for Veda...

Daddy’s, here, Mommy.
...and two, maybe three
for Ray.

Father.
Say there, Mildred.

Just thought I’d drop by
for a little visit,

maybe pick up a couple of
things I left in the desk.

Well, I’m glad you did.

Shall we all go in the den?

Yes. Father.
There’s an idea.

These two treating you
all right, Mildred?

Make yourself
comfortable.

They both had very good
report cards this term.

And Veda’s doing splendidly
on her piano practice.

I’m learning the "Polonaise
in A-flat" by Chopin.

It’s such a wonderful
piece, Father.

I can’t wait
for you to hear it.

Guess all those matinées
your mother dragged us to

at the Hollywood Bowl
paid off in the end.

Look, Daddy, see what
I wear at the pageant
at school.

"Queen of May Pageant,"
it’s called.

Doesn’t it look
like real gold?

It sure does.

Betty Troke
is May Queen,

which is
perfectly ridiculous,
if you ask me,

even if she did just
move from Pasadena.

That’s because Veda
thinks she should be it.
Oh.

That is not true.
That is a lie.
Veda.

Oh, Daddy.
Can I show Daddy
my new sand bucket

Grandpa got me?
Grandpa got me
a sand bucket.

It has a tiger
and a clown.

Well, the bucket’s
in the garage, dear.

Let’s show it to him
later, hmm?

Aren’t you terribly
thirsty, Father?

Mother, would you like me
to open the Scotch?

Scotch?
Yes, Daddy.

We’re going
to have a drink.
We’re going to get drunk.

Well, I might be able
to stand a drink.

Yay! Drink, drink, drink.
Daddy’s gonna drink.

I’m gonna drink.
I’m gonna drink.

Can I help you,
Mother?

Who asked you
to go snooping around
my closet for liquor?

I didn’t know there was
any secret about it.

And hereafter,
I’ll do the inviting.

But, Mother,
it’s Father.

Don’t stand there
and pretend you don’t know
what I’m talking about.

You know
you had no business
saying what you did.

I could tell
by the cheeky look
on your face.

Very well, Mother.
It shall be as you say.

And stop that silly way
of talking.

Just the same, there was
none of this stinginess

when Father was doing
the inviting.

Things have truly changed
around here.

One might think
peasants have taken over
the house.

Do you even know
what a peasant is?

A peasant...

is a very
ill-bred person.

...around the house,

or are you
going to show me
what it looks like?

Sometimes, Veda,

I wonder if you have
good sense.

Go on.

Oh, Veda, no, we weren’t
talking about you at all.

These children
are turning into

such rummies
these days.

I don’t know what
the younger generation
is coming to.

Father, you switched them.
You always switch them.

We want the stiff ones.

Those are
the stiff ones.

So, Father, what’s your
opinion on the current
economic conditions?

Do you think things
will be improving
anytime soon?

Well, that’s
a fine question,
Veda, it truly is.

Hoover’s not out of it yet,
I’ll tell you that much.

And while it’s not
looking rosy anytime soon,

I do see some signs
of improvement--

Capone, Lindbergh
all the way to China.

Father, I’m serious.

Look, I’m drunk.
I’m drunk.

Can’t you control her?

Father.

♪ I went
to the animals’ fair ♪

♪ The birds and
the beasts were there ♪

♪ The big baboon
in the light of the moon ♪

♪ Was combing
his auburn hair... ♪

She’s going to--

♪ And jumped
on the elephant’s trunk ♪

♪ The elephant sneezed
and fell to his knees ♪

♪ That’s what became
of the monk, the monk,
the monk ♪

Watch--

All right, all right,
all right.

It’s time for bed
for both monketys, hmm?

How about their father
tucks them in?

Yes, yes.

Father, do I have to?

It’s so late.
You know your mother.

Can you at least
read to us,

from Robert Louis
Stevenson?

You, uh, got what you
needed from the desk?

Yeah, I...

You drop something?

My key.

It was in my pocket.
I always put it in my--

Come to think of it,

maybe I took that key.

You what?

I took it.

Give me it.
I gotta go home.

No, I won’t.

I’m not gonna
give it to you.

And there is no use
trying to take it from me,

because I need it now
and you don’t.

What are you talking about?
That car’s mine.

I don’t care
whose it is.

I’m working
and I need it.

And if you think
I’m gonna

pound around
on my feet

and ride buses
and lose all that time
and be a sap

while you lay up
with another woman,

enjoying the high life,
well, you’re quite
mistaken.

You’re working?
Yes.

I got a job.
And don’t ask me where.

Somebody had to.

Well, why didn’t you
say so?

Fine.

Then it’s settled.

Thank you.

I can ride you back,
if you like.

Appreciate it very much.

You staying with Maggie?

Prefer not to say
where I’m staying.

I’m staying
where I’m staying.

But you can drop me off
at Maggie’s.

That’s fine.

Good night.

BLT, high and dry,
three eggs, wreck ’em.

Waitress 2:
I need a full house,
hold the pickle.

Waitress 3:
I need two specials,
Archie.

Waitress 4:
Where’s my livers?

Where’s my shrimp?

Archie, where’s my shrimp?

I told you,
don’t keep me waiting.

Now, now.

Now is right.

You call this pie?

Sorry, Mr. Rice.

A special straw
for the little one.

Oh, thank you.
That’s just what she needs.

Say, Millie,

what do you say,
I take you out
some night?

Oh, no, Mr. Rand.
I want you to keep
liking me.

Oh, I’ll keep
liking you, honest.

You might feel differently
if I wasn’t dressed
in a uniform.

I’m that ashamed of
putting this on the table.

I’m that ashamed to ask
a customer to eat it.

It’s just despicable,
the pie you put out here
and expect people to pay for.

Maybe a pie is lousy,
but what you expect,
times like this now?

If he no eat, you see me.
I okay no check.

Bah!

What does he pay
for those pies anyway?

If he pays two bits,
he’s getting swindled.

But how much would
you say, roughly?

Oh, I don’t know. Why?

Ida,

I make pies
and sell them.

Honestly, if he pays
anything at all,

I’d meet his price
and make him some

that people would
really want to eat.

I’d make him pies
that’d be a feature.

You bake pies?

I do it all the time.
I sold four last week.

Well, why don’t you
bring in a sample sometime?

I could do it
tomorrow.

You’re serious,
aren’t you?

Mm-hmm.

Well, why not?

I know for a fact
he wants to switch.

He’s just too bullheaded
to admit it.

You heading home?
Can I give you a lift?

You have a car?

Well, it goes.

I’ve been knowing it
all along,

I had to have a showdown
about them pies,
and now it’s coming.

So look, tomorrow
you bring in three pies,

one apple, one pumpkin
and one lemon.

I could do
a cherry too.

No, no cherry
and no strawberry.

They fall apart too easy.
And just three,

no more than three,
and I’ll see they get served.

Remember, though,
it’s all got to be his idea.

Of course.

And I’ll find out
what he pays too.

You leave it to me,
Mildred.

You won’t have to say a word.

Ida, you’re a pal.

And one lemon pie.

That’s some meringue
you got there.

Man 2:
Ma’am, I’d like one of
them pieces, too, please.

Nice job on them
pies, Mr. Chris.
You sure can pick ’em.

I’ll say.
And about time too.

I said,
"Hold your horses.

"30 cents per pie?
You pay that bakery 35."

Yeah, what does he expect?
Something more
for something less?

And 35 pies a week?

I’m going to need
to hire some help.

Honey, at 35 cents a pop,
you can almost afford it.

To Mildred,
and them pies.

Thank you, Ida.
Thank you.

Letty, watch
your sleeve.

That’s it.
A little faster.

Good afternoon,
Mrs. Pierce.

Good afternoon.

Will this be
all for you?

Hello?

Letty?

Hello.

Hey, honey.
Oh, Lucy.

I’m running to Bullock’s,
thought you might want
to come along.

Oh, no, I wish I could.
Why?

Well, you’ll never guess.
Another restaurant contract

dropped in my lap
this week.

Another contract?
Mm-hmm.

With whom?
Mr. Hartman
at the Drop Inn.

Baby, you’re taking off.

You said it.
I’m a going concern.

Yes, Mrs. Pierce?

Mildred?

Lucy, can I
call you back?

I have baking supplies
in the car.

Go on.
Thanks.

I told her you wouldn’t
like it, Mrs. Pierce.

I told her
right off the bat.
But she hollered

and carried on,
so I put it on
just to keep her quiet.

Who hollered
and carried on?

Well, Miss Veda,
Ma’am.

Miss Veda?

That’s what she says
I should call her.

And she told you
to put on that uniform?

Yes’m.

What on earth
does she think she--?

Veda!

Look, Mommy.
I’m a public enemy.

So I see.

Veda.

That uniform
Letty’s wearing...

Look.

I ain’t so tough.

Where did you find it?
And why is Letty
wearing it?

Why?

Those uniforms were on
the top shelf of my closet,

under a pile of sheets.

Once again, you were
snooping into my things

to see what you could
find, weren’t you?

I was looking
for a handkerchief.
Weren’t you?

I was not, and I resent
the accusation.

Then... Then how did it
happen to end up on Letty?

I merely assumed,
Mother, that you’d
bought them for Letty.

And if she was going
to be taking my things
to the pool,

I assumed you wanted her
decently dressed.

To the pool?
What things?

My swimming things.

She always walks
two steps behind us
to the bus

and carries our bags
both ways.

What?
And does she
go in swimming?

No, sir.
Because she can’t swim.

She can’t swim
and she’ll get drownded.

And Red will have
to pull her out.

He’s the lifeguard
and he’s stuck on her.

Mrs. Pierce.

What--?

That-- that-- that--
that’s enough.

I’ll be right there,
Letty.

Really, Mother,
it seems to me

you’re making a great fuss
over nothing.

If you bought
the uniforms for Letty,

and certainly
I can’t imagine who else
you bought them for,

then why shouldn’t
she wear them?

It’s time
for your bath.

No, no!
No, no, no, no, no!

Stop squirming.
No, no.

♪ ...even make a gain ♪

♪ Believe me ♪

♪ I’m always ♪

♪ Chasing rainbows ♪

♪ Waiting for
a little bluebird ♪

♪ In vain ♪

Don’t be mad
at Veda, Mommy.

She just likes pretending.

I know she does.

All right, head back.

Veda.

Gracious, Mother.
You startled me.

Why did you give Letty
that uniform?

For heaven’s sake,
Mother,

haven’t I
told you once?

How often do I have
to tell you?

I’m going to bed.

You knew, when you
gave it to her,

that it was mine,
didn’t you?

That it was my uniform.

Your uniform?

Yes.

It so happens

that I’ve taken a job

in a restaurant
in Hollywood.

As a what?

As a waitress,
as you well know.

Ye Gods.
Ye Gods.

Oh, stop that.
Ye Gods and
little fishes.

So you and your sister
can eat and have
a place to live

and a few clothes
on your backs.

I’ve taken the only
kind of job I can get.

And if you think
I’m going to listen
to a lot

of silly nonsense
from you about it,
then you’re quite mistaken.

And if you think
your nonsense is
going to make me

give up the job,
then you’re mistaken
about that too.

How you ever found out
what I was doing,
I do not know.

From the uniform, stupid.
Do you think I’m dumb?

You may not realize it,
young lady,

but everything you have
costs money,

from the maid you ordered

to go traipsing with you
to the pool,

to your food and clothes
and everything else.

And as I don’t see
anyone else doing anything
about it around here--

Aren’t the pies
bad enough?

Did you have to go
and degrade us all
by becoming a waitress?

That...

That’s quite enough!

No!

Ow!

No!

A waitress.

You don’t ever give me
credit for any...

any finer feelings,
do you?

Oh, Mother,
cut the Penny Dreadful
dramatics.

You’re working in a--

in Hollywood.

It’s fine.
I’ll try not
to think about it.

The truth is...

I’ve felt exactly
the same as you.

And I never would
have taken the job
to begin with,

if it hadn’t been
that I...

that I’ve decided
to open a place
of my own...

and had to learn
the business

from the ground up.

That’s the reason
I took the job in
the first place.

What do you--
what do you mean,
a place of your own?

A restaurant,
of course.

There’s money
in a restaurant,

if you run it right.

You know how to run
a restaurant?

Well, yes.
Well...

I’m learning.
I’m learning how.

What kind of restaurant?

I don’t know exactly.

But something nice.

Something we can be
proud of.

A fine restaurant?

Well, yes, of course.

As fine as it could be.

Oh, Mother.

Mother, forgive me
for being so wretched before.

I’m sorry I acted
so horribly.

I-- I think
it’s just wonderful--

just wonderful,
what you’re planning,
truly I do.

Oh, I know, dear.

And I know you’ll do
wonderfully well.

I’m certain of it.

Oh, Veda.

What is it, Mother?

Nothing, dear.

It’s just that
you were right
and I was wrong.

No matter what I say,

no matter
what anybody says,

never give that up--

that way you have
of looking at things.

I can’t help it, Mother.

It’s how I feel.

I know it is.

And from now on,

things are going to get
better for us.

I’m certain they will.

So we’ll have
what we want.

Maybe we won’t be rich,
but we’ll have something.

And it’ll all be
on account of you.

I love you, Mother,
truly I do.

Every good thing
that happens

is on account
of you.

If your mother only
had sense enough
to know it.

I said hold
the mayo, Archie.

You never listen.
Now I gotta go

talk to these people.
You have no idea.

I’m still waiting
on those pork chops.

Waitress 2:
Chicken-fried steak, onions.
Baked apple with cream.

Meat, meat.
I need meat.

We changed the print
on the menus.

Archie, I need
two chicken cutlets.

Ah!

Poached eggs on toast,
cinnamon toast,

hot chocolate, ham and eggs,
sliced pineapple.

Say, Wally,

you wouldn’t want to help me
with something, would you?

Not particularly.

I’d have to have it soon--
tomorrow maybe.

What is it?

I don’t know what
you’d call it exactly.

An estimate of costs,
something like that,

for a man who might
back me in business.

But I want it all
written down

with the right words
for what I mean,

so it looks proper, businesslike.

What kind
of business?

Just a little
restaurant,

something I’ve been
thinking about.

Wait a minute.
Hold on. Start over,

at the beginning,
not in the middle.

Just something small

where I could do
all the cooking,

but a place
where all we serve
is chicken.

Think about it.

They have steak places
and fish places.

But down where I work
practically every other order
is for chicken.

So a chicken place--
well, looks to me

as though I’d have
plenty of customers.

And I wouldn’t have
to fool with all those
à la carte prices

or bookkeeping or menus
or anything like that.

Everybody gets
a chicken-and-waffle
dinner,

or chicken and vegetables,
if they like,

but all
at the same price.

And then I’d have
the pies to take out,

and keep on getting
all the wholesale pie
business that I can.

And, well, looks to me
as though one would
help the other.

Who’s the guy?
This old fogy

who eats lunch with me
every day-- Mr. Rand.

But... but I think
he’s got money.

If I can show him
it could be an investment,

perhaps he’d be interested,
you know, and--

Listen, do you really think
you can put this across?

Why? Don’t you?

I’m asking you.

Well, it seems as though
it ought to pay.

That’s the main thing, Wally,
about this idea of mine.

What costs in a restaurant
is waste,

and the extras,
like the printing
for the menus

and the-- the people
you have to have,

for the features
you put in.

But this way,
there wouldn’t be any waste.

I think I can put
that across, Wally, I do.

If you really
think so, Mildred...

I might be able
to put you in on a deal,

one that would
start you off
with such a bang,

you’d be sitting
so pretty,

you wouldn’t even
need a backer.

You can’t be serious.

Oh, I’m serious all right.
Holy smokes, I’m serious.

If you don’t look out,
Wally, I’m...

I’m gonna cry.

Seemed like a good idea
at the time.

It was actually Bert
who thought it up--

build a dream house,
so we could show all
the prospects

what their place
would look like

if they spent
twice as much dough

as any of them had.

But now it’s deadweight.

They gotta get rid of it,
and if you’ll take it over

with this chicken place,
then it’s yours.

And believe me, Mildred,
if this isn’t a natural

for a restaurant,
I never saw one.

I mean, just
look at the place--
dining room.

Right?
Come in here.

Pantry, kitchen.

Every stick in the place
complies with fire law,

health law.
There’s even two toilets.

I mean, if you really
mean business, Mildred,

you can have it,
lock, stock and barrel.

The fact is, see,
they’ve got to establish losses.

Who?

The receivers,
on their federal
income tax,

due next March,
the year 1931.

If they don’t show
losses, they’re sunk.

But, Wally, I’d still
have to have money.

Who says you would?

That’s the beauty
of it, Mildred.

Once you take title
to a piece of property
in this town,

that’s all
anybody cares about.

You get all
the credit you want,
more than you’ll need.

But why me?
Well, who else wants it?

It’s not a house.
It’s a real estate office.

Last time I checked,
nobody needs one of those.

So it’s got to be
somebody who can use it

for something else,
and that’s you.

I know, but, Wally,

I just can’t believe
there isn’t somebody--

even if they’re
just giving it away--
on the inside who...

No, I get what
you’re saying, sure.

There were some
original incorporators
sniffing around,

but they’re not gonna
get past the feds.

And with you,
it’s the real McCoy.

You’re no insider.

You’re no original
incorporator.

You’re...

Oh, goddamn it.

What?

Goddamn it all to hell.
Goddamn it!

What?
What is it?

Bert.

Bert? What’s he got
to do with it?

Bert’s an original
incorporator.

Well?

And you’re married
to him.

And there goes
your restaurant.

And there goes
the prettiest little deal

I had a chance to put across
since Pierce Homes folded.

Unless you got
a divorce.

Is that the only way?

Well, he left you,
didn’t he?

Well, I’ll see him.

Listen, Mildred,
I’m telling you,

even if it wasn’t
for this federal thing,

you’re gonna want
to get this cleaned up.

You don’t know
where he gets his money.
For all you can tell--

I said I’d see him.

I probably know
10 times as much
about federal taxes

as Wally Burgan does,
and all I can say is,

it sounds to me
like a lot of hooey.

It all comes back
to a straight question
of collusion,

and I can prove
to any court--

Bert, Bert, it’s not
a question of proving
anything to a court.

It’s whether or not
they let me have
the property.

If I don’t get a divorce,
they won’t let me have it.

Oh...

I don’t know what
you and Wally think you’re
cooking up here, but...

What do you mean,
me and Wally?

Oh, forget it.
Just forget it.

Listen, I don’t like this
any more than you do.

Fine!

Fine.

What I was gonna say
before all this
other business--

so that you and the kids
have a place to sleep
at night

and no one can take it
away from you--

is that I would
give you the house.

You don’t have
to do that.

I want to.

Well, if you want to,

then I accept.

Thank you, Bert.

And I’m sorry if I’ve said
unkind things in the past,

about Maggie Biederhof.

It’s all right.

I’m sorry I was hard
on Wally just then.

And if there is something
you feel for him,

why, that’s all right too.

Oh, Bert, please.

Christ, I knew there’d
never be anything

between you
and that fat slob.

That’s all right.

Well...

I guess all we need
to do now

is settle on a cause.

Right.

I guess you’ll have
to hit me.

You sound
just like Veda.

She’s always wanting
to be hit.

Veda is?

Then I’m glad there’s
a little of her in me.

All right.

The defendant hit her

and caused her great
personal anguish.

Now he says he wants me
to have the house too.

What’s wrong with that?

I don’t know.

I feel as though
I picked his bones--

first the kids,
then the car,

now the house.

Would you kindly
tell me what good
the house would do him?

First call for interest,
he’d lose it flat.

He just looked
so damned pitiful.

Oh, they all do, baby.
That’s what gets us.

All right, girls.
Full steam ahead.

I’m closing up
the case.

Do you have
my print scarf?

Check.

Don’t forget
the umbrella.

Suitcase, thermos
and umbrella

will all be there
at Gram and Pop’s, when
you get home from school.

I just remembered!

Ray, where are
you going?

We’re going to be
late for school.

Ray, where did you go?

I almost
forgot the sand pail
Grandpa got me.

Hurry up, dear.
You’re going to be late.

I’ll take that.
Here are your things.

You girls have
a wonderful weekend.

And mind your grandparents.
Bye.

Thanks, Mother.
We will.
Bye.

Bye.

We’ve got--
Good morning, ma’am.

Morning. We’ve got
fixtures going in.

Painting started today.

Oh, come see the range.

Oh, now you’re talking!

It’s shaping up, no?

Five days ago
I wasn’t so sure,
but today...

Well, those announcements,
they ought to pull in
something too.

Gee, I hope so.
What time you got, Wally?

Almost 10:00.

God, I’m gonna be late.

Oh, yeah?
For what?

Last day
as a working girl.

Morning.
Morning.

Sorry I’m late.

Mildred, meet Shirley,
the new girl.

Pleased to meet you,
Shirley.
Very nice to meet you.

That’s mine.

Sit.
I got it.

Sit.

Now when you gotta
make a customer wait,

you can’t just leave him
sitting there,

like you did with
that party yesterday.

What the hell am I
looking at this for?

Why does anybody
ever look at a menu
for breakfast?

You know exactly
what you’re gonna have,
and yet you just keep looking.

To check the prices,
of course.

That’s it.
Okay, you ready?

Shoot.

Orange juice, oatmeal,
bacon and eggs,

fried on one side,
but not too much.

Uh, dry toast

and a large coffee.
You got that?

Orange juice, oatmeal,
bacon and eggs,

fried on one side,
but not too much.

Uh, dry toast
and a large coffee.

How’d I do?

Very good, and if you could
step on it slightly,

why, I might just get
to Santa Barbara

in time for a little swim
before the sun goes down.

Gee, I wish I could go
to Santa Barbara.

Well, come along.

You’d better look out.
I might say yes.

So I say
to him, I say,

"Soon you’ll have a car
that drives itself."

Man 2:
No, I have no idea
what you’re talking about.

Man 1:
They made this thing where
you don’t have to even...

Well?
I mean it.

I told you to look out.
Maybe I did too.

You know what would be
a highly original thing
for you to do?

What’s that?

Say yes right away,
just like that.

Oh my gosh.

Shirley.
I’m sorry.

It’s all right.
Accidents happen.

I’m real sorry.
You drop plates,
you pick them up.

I didn’t mean to do it.
You drop yourself,
you get up.

Have you recovered?
Yeah, sorry.

Ida,

I think the real trouble
with that girl is me.

I think I make her
nervous.

Would it be better
if I just slipped out?

Well, I know he’d just
love to save a buck.

Of course he would.

All right, Mildred,
you run along.

Hey, no kidding,
I wish you

all the luck in the world
with your little place.

And I promise,
I’ll be out there
first chance I get.

Thanks, Ida.

What are you
grinning about?

Oh, might as well be
original once in a while.

Damn it, I like you.

Though I’d have to
drop off my car first

in Glendale
and grab a few things.

Egads, Glendale.

Comes with the territory.

Well, we’d better
get tapping.

We certainly had.

There we are.

I was beginning to think
I should contact the police.

Sorry to keep you.

You’re smiling.

Well,

I can’t quite believe
I’m doing this.

You don’t do this
very often, Missus...?

Pierce.

No, I should say
I don’t.

Well, I’m honored
you made an exception,
Mrs. Pierce.

Any relation
to Pierce Homes?

Yes, bravo.

I was married to them
for a while.

Oh, how delightful.

Some of the worst homes
ever built.

All the roofs leak.

Nothing like how
the treasury leaked.

Well, I’m Beragon,
Monty.

Pleased to meet you,
Monty Beragon.

Make yourself at home.

Thanks.

Beragon...

Is that French?

What?

Beragon.

Spanish,
or supposed to be.

My great, great
grandfather

was one of the original
settlers--

you know,
the gay caballeros

that gypped the Indians
out of their land

and the king
out of his taxes,

and then sold out
to the Yanks

as soon as Polk
started annexing.

But if you ask me,
the old coot was
really a wop--

Bergoni.

Wop or Spick,
doesn’t make much
difference, I suppose.

You all right
in there?

Hello?

Hey there!
Not so fast, you don’t.

Not so soon anyway.

Mind the riptides.

So you’re 33 years old.

You live in Pasadena.

You went to

University of California
at Los Angeles.

But...

I still don’t know
what you do, Monty.

Oh, I don’t know.
Fruit, I guess.

Oranges, grapefruit,
something like that.

So you work
for the Exchange?

Mm, I should say not.

That damned
Fruit Growers’ Exchange

is taking the bread
right out of my mouth.

I hate Sunkist,
and Sun-Maid,

and every other label
with a wholesome-looking
girl on it.

So you’re
an independent?

What difference
does it make what I am?

Yes, I guess
I’m an independent.

I have a company--
fruit export.

Well, I don’t have it.
I own part of it.

So every quarter,
they send me a check.

Though it’s been
getting a lot smaller

since this
Sunkist business.

I don’t do anything,
if that’s what you mean.

You mean,

you just loaf?

You can call it that,
I suppose.

And you’re content?
I mean,

don’t you ever
want to...

actually do something?

Why should I?

Oh! Again?

Why not?

Oh, take the next right.

Here?

Ready?

Oh, I’ve been ready.

What the hell?
Is this yours?

Ta-dah!

Wait a minute.
Last I heard,

you were slinging hash
in that old--

Not anymore.
That was my last day
yesterday,

and I quit early
to run off with you.

From now on,
I’m a businesswoman.

Well, why didn’t you
tell me?

I didn’t get any chance,
that I noticed.

Guess I’ve sort of
fallen for you, Monty.

So when’s
the big night?

Two weeks Thursday,
six o’clock.

Mm-hmm.

Am I invited?

Of course you are.

Well, I’ll be there,
with bells.

Mrs. Pierce.

Mrs. Floyd?
What are you doing out here?

Oh, Mrs. Pierce,
where on earth
have you been?

They’ve been trying
to reach you ever
since last night.

Who-- who’s been
trying to reach me?

It’s your daughter.
My daughter?

Ray, the little one--
she came down with a flu

and they took her
to the hospital,

because there was
no one at home.

Where?
Which hospital?

Which-- which hospital?

Excuse me, I’m here
to see my little girl.

Yes, can I help you?
I’m Mrs. Pierce.
Mildred Pierce.

Mildred.
Bert.

Just-- just down here.
What happened?

She seemed fine,
temperature constant.

We thought
she’d be all right
in a few hours.

Then, just like that,
it went up.

Looky, your mama’s here.

Mommy.

It’s Mommy, darling.

Your husband agreed
to the additional expense

after I recommended
the transfusion and
we had the donor.

So we’ve gone ahead.

You still think
it could be grippe, Doctor?

The fact is, we get
a lot of these cases,

especially this time
of year.

They shoot up a temperature.
They start running
at the nose.

And the next day
they’re out

running around
like nothing happened.

What concerned me
was her temperature.

It’s still 104,
and I don’t like it.

I don’t like it,
and I don’t like that
thing on her lip.

Do you think it could
get infected?

Well, that’s the concern.

Now we sent
a smear of the pimple
over to the lab,

along with a few cc’s
of blood,

and they’re on their way.
But the point is,

if she’s got trouble,

we can’t wait
for any lab report.

She would need
a transfusion right away.

She was just a little dull
Friday night,

just seemed a little off,
was all.

And today
at the beach,

she seemed to be
running a temperature,

so we called Dr. Gale

and he told us
to bring her in
to the hospital.

He said no such thing.
He ordered her home.

And when we got
to the house,

it was all locked up.

So we rang him again.
And that is when

he ordered her
to the hospital,

because there was
no other place
to take her.

Mother.

Mother, where were you?

Well, her
temperature’s down.

Pulse is down.

So I’ve probably put you
to a lot of expense
over nothing.

That’s quite
all right, Doctor.

See, any infection
above the mouth

drains into
the lateral sinus,
that means the brain.

And with that little
pip on her lip,

there was no way
to tell.

Every symptom she had
spelled grippe,

but just the same,
all of those symptoms

could have been caused
by strep.

And if we had waited
till we were sure,

it might have been
too late.

Now the way she’s reacting
to that transfusion

shows it was all
a false alarm.

But you never know.

We’ll keep an eye
on her.

I suggest
you folks go home
and get some rest.

Thank you very much,
Doctor.

Thank you, Dr. Gale.

Bert, you take her home.
I’m going to stay.

You sure?
You’ll call if
there’s any news?

Of course I will.

Don’t worry, darling.

She’s going to be fine.

Letty’s waiting at home
for you, all right?

And then you just go

to 209,

and that
should be it.

Hurry.

Hurry up.

Get me more help!
Where’s Dr. Collins?

Woman 2:
Put it on.

Dr. Gale.

Woman 1:
We might have
to move her.

She’s having
a chill, Doctor.
Dr. Gale: Get Dr. Collins.

Yes, sir.
She’s flushed...

Dr. Gale, what--?

It’s gotta be
the pustule.

I know it.
What’s happening?

I need oxygen,
adrenaline and ice.
Mildred, please step back.

Her pulse is faster,
Dr. Collins.

What is it?
110.

Her temperature’s
rising, Dr. Collins.
It’s 104.

Dr. Collins:
Take off the hot
water bottles.

Take off the blankets.

Get those on her now.
Pulse?

112.

Her fever is spiking.
Have the syringes arrived?

Yes, Doctor, two syringes.
124.

Dr. Collins: More ice.
Yes, Doctor.

132.

Dr. Collins?

Ray, come on.
Come on, Ray.

There’s no pulse,
Dr. Collins.
Come on, Ray, Ray!

Dr. Collins: Get oxygen.
Prepare for resuscitation.
Ray, come on.

Come on, honey.
Stay with me.
First syringe.

First syringe, Doctor.
Dr. Collins: Roll her over.

Dr. Gale:
Come on, honey.
Come on.

Come on, Ray.
Ray, come on!

Dr. Collins:
Pulse?

Pulse?

Second syringe.

Third syringe.

Pulse?

Fourth syringe.

Stop.

Hello.

Yes, hello.
Mrs. Biederhof?

Yes.

Is Bert there?

No, he just--

Is this Mrs. Pierce?

Is everything
all right?

No. I’m afraid...

Will you tell him
that Ray died

a few minutes ago
at the hospital?

Oh, Mrs. Pierce.

I wanted him to know
right away.

Yes, of course.
Thank you.

Of course I’ll tell him.
I’m just so sorry.

From the bottom
of my heart, I am.

If there’s anything--

Thank you,
Mrs. Biederhof.

Mother?

Shh, shh, shh.

Shh, shh.

Veda, Veda.

Oh.

Oh, thank God.