All language subtitles for Signed.Sealed.Delivered.To.the.Moon.and.Back.2025.1080p.WEB.h264-EDITH_track3_[eng]

[multiple voices overlapping]

[music filtering out from club]

[Oliver O'Toole] In a world
where privacy now seems archaic

and secrets are revealed
with the press of a button--

[snap]

...how does one share
the deepest part of themselves

with any hope of keeping them

between just one heart
and another?

It is with the slower but surer

gold standard
of human communication...

When does he go on?

Next.

...[Oliver] The personal,
hand-written letter,

signed, sealed,

and, one way or another,
delivered.

Hope he plays
that one about the moon.

I love that one.

Me too.

I heard you singing
in the restroom the other night.

You're great.
Why aren't you up there?

Stage fright, I guess.

I've seen 'em all,
and you're the real deal.

[bar buzzing
with indistinct chatter]

Hey!

[chuckles]

It's a good crowd.

Yeah.

Why don't you come up
for "Moon"?

No, I told you.

I am happy
being in the background.

I mean it, Nate.

[chuckling] You are a mystery.

But I love you.

[mic feedback squeals]

[emcee]
Okay, guys! Next up--

he just got
a recording contract,

and it's his last gig
before he heads off to L.A.

Trust me, someday,
you'll be saying,

"I was there at Starmaker's,
before he was big."

Let's give a great big
Denver welcome

to Nate Holloway!

[crowd cheering and applauding]

[applause continues]

Thank you.

[♪♪♪]

♪ The sun goes down again ♪

♪ And I remember when ♪

♪ We sang the sunsets down
Together ♪

♪ Now we'll watch the sky ♪

♪ Waiting for the reasons why ♪

♪ I should even care
about tomorrow ♪

♪ Or forever ♪

♪ But when the moon rises ♪

♪ I look up and pray ♪

♪ That somehow there's a way ♪

♪ You're staring at it too ♪

♪ 'Cause if we can't say it
In the here and now ♪

♪ We tell it to the moon ♪

[♪♪♪]

[police officer]
Can I see your I.D.s, please?

[crackling]

[Camille] Your suitcase
is in the trunk.

What is that?

[James] Just drive.

[police officer]
Ladies, can I see your I.D.s?

[Nate] ♪ Tell it to the moon ♪

[police officer]
Can I see your I.D.s, please?

♪ Tell it to the moon ♪

[audience cheers and applauds]

Thank you, Denver!

It's been a wild ride
out here on the road,

and I want to give
a big shout-out

to a very special person
who's made life on the road

a lot easier to travel.

She's changed my life--

-No, no, no, no, no.
-...And my music.

[chair scrapes floor]

I want to introduce you
to Tracy--

[♪♪♪]

-Hi!
-Hey!

[Oliver] This is a treat.

Saturday morning brunch!
What a great idea!

We just wanted to have
some special time with you

to talk about...

all sorts of things!

We were just saying
the same thing.

Speaking of catching up--

My dear friends!

[Postables] Ramon!

What an unexpected
Saturday delight.

A special occasion?

-[all] Yes.
-Don't tell me!

Your adoption-baby
is about to be born?

Oh, not yet.

We're still about
a month or so away.

Marvelous!

May I tempt you
with some kiwi parfaits

or... alpine blintzes?

"Alpine blintzes"?

But before
I alert our chef, Salvatore,

to your order,

would you indulge me
a moment?

We found this
stuck behind the bar,

last month,
during some repairs.

Oh!

Stamped but never mailed?

[Rita]
Oh, it looks really old.

[Norman] Nope. See?

That's a Maya Angelou
commemorative stamp from 2015.

"A bird doesn't sing
because it has an answer.

A bird sings
because it has a song."

Aw, that's nice!

Ramon, consider this
officially delivered

to the Dead Letter Office
of the U.S. Postal System.

We shall proceed accordingly.

Of course.

And now... blintzes!

You know...

this used to be a club.

It was where you would go
if you wanted

to see up-and-coming singers
before they got famous.

Mm-hmm. Starmaker's, remember?

Oh, if you got in,
you were very cool.

Oh, what was it like?

Oh, I didn't actually get in,

but I did deliver

a certified letter
to the front door, though.

Well, whoever wrote this

must have seen
some amazing people sing here.

Maybe whoever wrote that
is famous.

Mm. Yeah, well, this envelope's
not gonna be much help.

Partial P.O. box,
half a zip, name's ripped off.

Feels like a reader.

Agreed.

We shall open and analyze,

first thing Monday.

How about now?

Uh, off-property,
at, uh, brunch?

Come on!

We're an elite task force

with wide powers
of postal discretion,

and we are willing to work
on a Saturday.

[chuckling] All right.

[clears throat]

Mm-hmm.

[♪♪♪]

Hmm.

Uh...

"Hey, it's me."

Not an auspicious start.

"Believe it or not,

"I'm actually here in Denver,
probably somewhere close.

Hard to believe you are so near
and yet so far.

I'm safe,
and I'm eating my veggies.

My hair was almost down
to my waist for a while,

but I've finally cut it--
of course.

I've been writing a lot,

and I wrote one about you and me
and the moon

that you-know-who
is actually going to record.

Yes, we're still together.

He's so sweet, so talented.

Hard to believe

I've been on the road with him
for almost a year,

but now it looks like

he might actually make it
in this business.

We're so in love,

but if he goes viral
and hits it big,

then, sooner or later,
I'd have to make a decision,

and I don't know what to do.

I could stay with him,

but you know
what that would mean,

and I don't know
if I could handle that.

Can we do a pass this week?

Same time, same place?

I really miss you,

and maybe I'm all grown up,

but I still need your advice,

because 'telling it to the moon'

just doesn't take the place
of the real thing.

Love, Me."

Oh, my, I certainly enjoy
a good moon metaphor.

There's no address
and no signature.

I could try
an impression transfer

of the address
from envelope to letter.

What does that mean--
"do a pass"?

Why does this letter
sound like nothing...

and everything?

As if it's written in code.

-To her mother!
-Hmm?

"Maybe I'm all grown up,
but I still need your advice."

And who else cares

-if she's eating her vegetables?
-Mm-hmm!

-Right.
-[Ramon] Ah... mimosas!

-Oh!
-With my compliments.

None for me, Ramon,
but thank you.

Me neither,

but that was very sweet!

What is a brunch

without fresh orange juice
and a splash of champagne--

...unless...

Ah! Let me bring a pitcher
of mango smoothies.

Very healthy.

Uh, what about me?
I like mimosas!

We're working, Norman! Now.

Oh, right.
Not to mention, we're--

So, you guys,
what are you celebrating?

Oh, well, uh,
we have some news,

but you said you had something
to celebrate, too,

so please,
you go first.

Oh, no, you go.

-No, I insist.
-Let me guess!

You've picked a name
for the baby?

Well, yes, actually--
we're gonna name her

-after my mother, Sunny.
-Aw!

But the bigger news
is that we're expecting.

Yes, you are!

And that's certainly
worth celebrating.

You're not the only ones.

We're expecting
right along with you.

Oh, I know. You've always
been so supportive,

but we're actually expecting.

As are we--
expecting!

Expecting what?

A baby, Norman!

No, we just said that,

except we're actually
expecting another one.

How many babies
is this mother having?

One, but we're expecting too.

You're expecting two
because we're expecting one.

That's what we thought, too.

Now there are three?

-Who's expecting three babies?
-You are! I think?

Well, this is
certainly unexpected.

Well, that's why we wanted
to bring you here,

to surprise you.

Well, three babies
is certainly a surprise!

[giddy]
And now there are four!

What is happening?

[realizing] Mimosas.

You're not drinking mimosas.

Neither are you!

[both, shrieking]
We're pregnant?

-[men laughing]
-[women squealing]

-What?
-Congratulations!

-You're pregnant!
-I'm pregnant!

-Oh, my goodness!
-You're pregnant!

-What?
-We're all pregnant!

[squealing]

Of course,
we should've told you sooner.

Uh, same with us.
We just wanted to be sure.

I think we're gonna need
a bigger nursery in here.

Well, it's to be continued.

In the meantime,

since we are here on Saturday
to do some work,

what say we do some?

Norman?

[Norman] Handwriting indicates
female, early 20s.

Nothing remarkable
about the stationery,

but unusual that someone her age
would choose to use any at all.

Mm-hmm! Statistics say

that less than 1%
of 25-year-olds

have mailed out
a personal letter

in the last eight years,

and 78% of them

are less concerned
about privacy

than efficiency.

Huh.

Well...
I weep for our future.

Whoever wrote that letter

definitely didn't want
to risk being hacked,

and didn't you think
that it was strange

the way the girl talked
about cutting her hair,

as if it was assumed
that she would do it?

And why would you mention
"being safe"

unless there was a chance
that you wouldn't be?

Well, if the letter
was indeed written years ago,

then the issue of safety
is somewhat moot.

There must have been
other letters written

since then.

Unless...

something happened

and she never wrote her mother
another letter ever again...

[voice cracks] ...and her mother
is still out there...

worrying about her baby--

[sobs]
...because it doesn't matter

if her child is 21
or 22 or 25.

[crying] A mother always worries
about her baby, and--

And a mother
needs to know these things,

'cause something like that
could drive her crazy!

And if it drives her crazy,
I won't be able to sleep.

If we can't deliver this letter,
and if I don't sleep--

Are you saying
we have to do this

because you're pregnant?

[both] Yes!

Uh, and may I interject here?

Just purely
on a professional level?

[Oliver] Oh, please-- do.

Um...

people use "Forever" stamps
all the time

uh, because they're forever.

It doesn't mean

it was affixed to the envelope
at the same year.

We shall
take this up Monday morning,

but for now,
I'm going to meet with my dad

to go over resumes
for architects.

This is so exciting!

You're actually building

your dream
postal history museum.

Well, it will belong
to the citizens of Colorado.

The O'Toole Foundation

is offering a leadership gift
to get the ball rolling.

We still have
much fundraising to do.

Wait! Have you told Joe
about the baby yet?

We're going to tell him now.

Would you consider
one more architect for the job?

"Hans Van Skaack"?

One of my foster-care cousins.

He's a highly respected, um,

architect of museums
and public spaces.

And a donut shop
drive-through, hmm?

Kansas City landmark!

I look forward
to hearing his thoughts.

[Joe]
This is just wonderful!

-[laughter]
-Wow!

I'm so happy for you guys.

For me, too!

Oh, we love you so much, Joe.

Oh, ho!

So we have a lot
to celebrate tonight.

Dinner! My treat.

Absolutely.

Just in the meantime,
it's naptime for me.

Oh, yeah.

[chuckling] Okay.

Oh, ho.

[exhales happily] Ha!

Um...

six promising architects
for the museum.

Ah!

Oh, and one more.

Uh, this is another cousin
of Norman's.

How many cousins
does Norman have?

Um, myriad.

[both chuckle]

You know, you've taken on
quite the project here.

I mean, we have location...
but what do we put in it?

What's going to bring people in?

Well, um...

[clears throat]
I have an idea.

Paris has the Mona Lisa,

the Vatican
has the Sistine Chapel,

but Denver will have

the crown jewel
of postal history,

an heirloom
which has been

passed down through
the O'Toole family

since the 1800s.

Benjamin Franklin's
letter of application

to become the second
Postmaster of Philadelphia!

I forgot all about that!

[Oliver laughs]

Yeah!

The letter should be up here.

It's a brown mahogany chest.

And it's been up here
how long?

Oh, gosh, I can't remember.

We put a lot of stuff up here
after your mother left.

Look at this!

My children's books.

Look.
"A Child's Garden of Verses."

"Simple Stories
From Shakespeare."

"Heroes of the Post Office!"

[Oliver continues rummaging]

Dad! Here it is.

[coughing]

Yeah.

Let's, uh, get it downstairs
and out of this dust.

[♪♪♪]

Happy Monday, everyone.

Congratulations!

This is so exciting!

Oh! Uh...

More babies!
I'm so happy for you guys.

Thank you.

So we have a lot to do today.

Oh, oh. Yes, yes, yes.
Let me take her.

Hi, baby.

So... let's begin, shall we?

I got an impression--
it's not much--

a...

Denver zip code
and part of a name--

"M-A-R".

Marla? Marlene? Mary?

Not much yet.
[sighing]

So, um,

if we can't identify
the recipient,

we must locate the sender.

Charley?

Um...

having been born
in this century,

perhaps you can glean

something more current from it
than we could?

Thank you.

Did you and your father take
a look at Hans's resume?

Yes, we did.

He has an interview tomorrow.

Quite an impressive resume,
Norman.

Um, your family seems to be
experts in their fields.

Yeah, very impressive,
you know,

considering that
none of us are actually related.

Nevertheless,

having chosen each other
to be family,

you certainly
have chosen well.

[Rita, tenderly]
Shh, shh. Shh, shh, shh.

Whoa. This is wild!

It sounds here like
they're saying they wrote

"Tell It to the Moon,"
except Nate Holloway wrote it.

Nate Holloway?

"The" Nate Holloway?

I love him!

Of course!
How could I miss that?

Uh... I'm sorry,
can we back up?

I-- What did Nate Holloway
tell the moon?

And who is he, exactly?

-[scoffing]
-Nate Holloway?

Wait, he's a pretty famous
singer-songwriter right now.

"Tell It to the Moon"
was his first big hit,

-a few years ago.
-Mm-hmm. Yeah.

"Because if we can't say it
in the here and now,

we'll tell it--"

[both] "...To the moon."

Didn't the letter say something
about telling it to the moon?

Yes. She also said,

"I wrote one about you
and me and the moon."

[Baby Eleanor cries]

Anyone can mention lyrics
from a famous song.

Not if
it hasn't been recorded yet.

Nate Holloway's
last performance at Starmaker's

was a year before

"Tell It to the Moon"
hit the top 10.

Oliver, she had to be there.

I assume Mr. Holloway

is now performing
at larger venues?

[snickers] Yeah.

Oh! He is headlining at
the Bellisario in Las Vegas.

We have two appointments
first thing tomorrow morning,

but if we leave right after,

we could catch his show.

Hmm. The book I'm reading

about what to expect
when you're having a baby

mentions nothing
of Las Vegas...

...but it might be expeditious.

-Yes!
-Yes!

Road trip!

I don't see
any red flags so far,

but let's face it--

this is a geriatric pregnancy.

Sorry-- "geriatric"?

It just means that she's not
a 20-something, that's it.

There's just
a little more risk.

There can be,

so we need as much information
as possible

just to be prepared.

Now, I don't see any big issues
in Shane's family history.

Healthy as
a non-20-something horse.

[all chuckling]

How about you?

Oh, uh...

I'm unsure of
the actual biological nature

of my parental lineage.

My absent mother passed

after eating some bad fish
in Kuala Lumpur,

and I have
no information regarding

my biological progenitor

other than he passed
at an advanced age,

10 years ago.

Got it.

Well, we'll schedule
some additional testing,

just to rule out any surprises.

Well, this certainly
has been a...

a surprise, a very happy one.

[both chuckling]

Those are the best kind.

Do you have time
for a blood draw?

Oh, sure! We just have to be
on the road before 10.

We're driving to Las Vegas,
and I haven't packed yet.

[chuckles]

[Hans] Oh, I'm sensing

that we could remove these walls
and create a meditation atrium,

where one can ponder the scope
and legacy

of postal history.

What do you think?

I think
Oliver is going to love you.

[both chuckling]

Of course, converting
this home into a museum

will require approval

from the local
historical society.

Yes.

[Shane]
No, no, no, no, no, no!

Hey, there you are.

Uh, Oliver, Shane,
this is Hans Van Skaack--

the architect
that Norman recommended.

[panting] Hi, Hans!

Forgive me.

Our friends are picking us up
for a trip to Las Vegas,

and we haven't packed yet!

[chuckles] Of course.

Hans has
some pretty progressive ideas

about how to turn this home
into a museum.

Oh, I hope so.

We'll need something unique
to anchor the museum--

a rare stamp
or historic document,

something previously unseen

by the discerning
postal community--

a-a-- a crown jewel

to greet us

as a shaft of light

strikes the treasure
right in the atrium

and whispers, "This--

This is the gold standard
of human communication."

[door opens]

We gotta go!
RV's double-parked.

-Hi, Hans.
-Hi.

-Bye, Hans.
-Bye.

-[door shuts]
-Hans,

you're a man
after my own heart.

I believe I do have

the iconic item
you might be looking for.

However, um, I do need a moment

with my father
before we leave town.

Oh, of course.

Uh, I'll go measure the den.

[footsteps recede]

So, uh, the prenatal
appointment went very well.

Um... they asked me
my family history,

and I realized
I couldn't tell them.

[horn honks outside]

Oh. Uh...

let's see.

Uh, I-I didn't know much
about your mother's side,

and I didn't know much
about Harvey Schmidtz, either,

which was the way
your mother wanted it,

of course, but, uh...

[horn honks outside]

Mm. Hold on.

[footsteps]

Hi, Joe! Bye, Joe!

-Bye.
-[horn honks outside]

Honking! People are honking.

Yeah, we're coming.

Oliver--
go, pack.

[thud]

[Oliver takes a deep breath]

Oliver, please pack.

Why don't you
take this with you?

Oh.

"For Oliver someday."

It's from your... other father.

Are you saying
this is a gift to me

from Harvey Schmidtz?

Uh, it's been up
in the attic for a while.

It was with your mother's things
when she died.

I don't know
if you'd call it a gift.

Maybe?

You'll have to decide that,

but it might give you
some insight into the man.

Maybe I should've given it
to you sooner,

but now that
you're gonna be a dad,

it feels like
"someday" just came.

What is it?

[horn blaring outside]

[Hans] Mr. O'Toole!

We'll talk when you get back.

[Nate, on radio]
♪ ...You're staring at it, too ♪

♪ And if we can't say it ♪

♪ In the here and now ♪

[singing off-key]
♪ We tell it the moon, yeah ♪

[Rita humming along]

♪ We tell it to the moon ♪

[Rita humming along]

[♪♪♪]

Maybe it's the patent

to another
one of his inventions.

Or photographs.

Although, I can't
imagine him...

um, sending anything
documenting their affair.

You'll never know,
unless you open it.

-Oh. Dinosaur museum coming up!
-Ooh!

[Norman] Let's stop.

[engine rattles and clunks
to a halt]

They've got a half a T-Rex

and a couple of pterodactyls
in there.

Is there an atrium?

Uh, yeah...

and a diorama with, uh,
somethin'...

eating something.

Ah, well.

[Rita groans]

How are you feeling?

Wonderful. Never better!

Very hungry.

How about you?

Oh, I feel wonderful
in the, uh,

"We're having a baby"
sort of way,

but not in the, "I'm pregnant

and this baby has hijacked
my brain, my emotions, and--

my gastrointestinal tract"
sort of way.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Yeah, well,

it helps to keep my mind
on something else,

like the letter
from Starmaker's.

Mm-hmm!

That is someone
who doesn't want to be found.

Well, being on tour
would keep her

from staying
in one place for too long.

It's hard to find someone
who keeps moving around.

[sighs] Let's hope
Nate Holloway can help us.

Well, if we can get in
to see him, that is.

Oh... we will.

We have all-access
backstage VIP passes

and a private
meet-and-greet between shows.

Wait, how did you--

No! You did not hack
into the ticketing system.

I am a pregnant woman

with 8,000 gigabytes
that say I did.

[Rita chuckles]

Oh, wow!

It's beautiful, isn't it?

[Rita]
Oh, look at the fountain!

-Look!
-Yeah!

I see it.

[gasps and squeals]

"Over The Moon."

[assistant] As soon as
Nate walks off stage,

you've got three minutes
before his encore.

You are limited
to one selfie,

no autographs,

and no physical contact,

unless he engages.
Actually, we're not here

to engage in anything
with Mr. Holloway

other than official business.

It's your V.I.P. experience.

Come on!

Uh, Nate,
this is the O'Toole party.

-Hey!
-Uh, Mr. Holloway

my name is Oliver O'Toole,
these are my colleagues,

and we comprise a task force

of the United States
Postal System.

I'm confused.
You're not fans?

Well, some of us are.

We loved your show!

-I like the part when you fly.
-Yes!

Mr. Holloway, your notable,
uh, performance notwithstanding,

our purpose here

as representatives
of the Dead Letter Office

has led us to you
in the pursuit of

delivering a letter

apparently composed by someone
connected to you.

[chuckles] Forgive me,
I get a lot of letters.

But this letter
wasn't written to you.

We believe it was written
to the mother of someone

who references
some of the lyrics

in one of your songs.

[laughs] Lots of people
listen to my songs.

Well, this person quoted
"Tell It to the Moon"

a-a year
before it was released.

And the letter
was found in Starmaker's.

Starmaker's?

It was a very popular, uh,
club in Denver.

You performed there
several times.

Wow...
I barely remember that.

Well, this person was there,

and they claim
that they wrote that song.

You'd be amazed how many people
come out of the woodwork

once you're successful.

Maybe if I read the letter?

Oh, no.
I'm afraid policy forbids that.

Yeah, but if you could think

of anyone that might
think of themselves

as a collaborator
in your music?

No, not at all.

Well, the letter also

talks about somebody the writer
was kind of close to--

Okay, uh, Nate,
it's your encore.

Time's up, folks!

But thanks for coming.

-Sorry I wasn't much help.
-If you remember anything else,

please, please
don't hesitate to call us.

We're concerned

there's a safety concern
that might r-require attention.

-Enjoy the show!
-Uh-huh.

All right, thank you.

Something doesn't feel right.

Yeah, did you see his face
when we mentioned Starmaker's?

Yeah, he may be a great singer,
but he is not a very good actor.

Me thinks the rock star
doth protest too much.

[guitar begins thrumming]

[cheering escalates]

[Rita gasps and laughs]

He puts on a good show!

Whoo!

Whoo-hoo!

[♪♪♪]

[Oliver takes a deep breath]

Where are Norman and Rita?

I got them tickets

to the Natural History of Elvis
Museum.

At 11:00 at night?

This is Las Vegas, darling.

You know...

this box...

isn't gonna open itself.

[taps it softly]

What's the matter?

[sighs]

I'm just wondering

why my dad didn't give it to me
years ago.

Joe O'Toole is a wise man.

Trust the timing, darling.

You know, I think
we made him very nervous.

My dad?

Nate Holloway.

Which tells me he knows more
than he's letting on.

But we have no reason
to believe he was lying to us.

Actually, we do.

"Holloway points
to the early years

spent on the road

as his best preparation
for stardom.

'I played every honky-tonk

and underground club
in the country,

lots of tough rooms,

like Lana Lu's in Seattle
and Sweet's in Austin,

but Starmaker's in Denver

always had
the best audiences.'"

Oliver...

that doesn't sound like a guy

who barely remembers
being there.

Hmm.

He still has a midnight show.

It's very serious, Mr. Holloway.

Feeding false information
to government officials

is a federal offense.

I really don't see
how the Post Office

has anything to do
with some deluded fan

who thinks
she wrote one of my songs.

Well, first of all,

we are required
to follow every avenue

in order to deliver a letter
that we deem essential,

and given the content,
this meets that criteria.

And secondly,

we never identified the writer
of that letter as female.

You just did.

It was just a guess.

No, it wasn't.

Mr. Holloway,
it's becoming clear to us

that we've stumbled onto
something more

than "just a letter"
written by a fan

obsessed with a celebrity.

What I'm trying to decide is...

whether you're protecting her
or yourself.

But if you don't tell the truth,

it's out of our hands--

we can't protect anyone.

[Nate takes a deep breath]

[sighs heavily]

Can we keep this between us?

We can't make promises,

but...

discretion is paramount
to our work.

I'm protecting her.

She wrote
"Tell It To The Moon"

and almost every other song
that people think I've written.

And her name?

Tracy.

Tracy Reo.

That probably
isn't even her real name,

but it's the one
I knew her by.

And you were in love with her?

[exhales deeply]

We met backstage
at a club in Kansas City.

I'd seen her hanging around
for a couple of nights.

She looked like a runaway.

I guess she was, in a way.

She was tired
and hungry, scared.

But...

she had this song in her hand
that she said I needed to hear,

and I listened

and fell in love with her talent
and her music.

And her.

And her.

And we decided
to pool our resources

and try to make it
in the music business together.

[Shane] And you did.

Why didn't Tracy?

I could never
get her to perform.

She's an amazing singer...

more talented than me,

but she'd only write songs

because she was hiding
from something or somebody,

and didn't want
to be recognized.

I didn't understand
at the time.

Then we had this big fight
in Denver--

I want to give

a big shout-out
to a very special person.

She's changed my life
and my music!

I want to introduce you
to Tracy--

Excuse me.

Tracy, stop.

I told you not to point me out.

What are you talking about?

I got to get to the bus station.

No, you're not leaving!
I love you.

If you love me,
you would've done what I asked.

Whatever I did,
I won't do it again.

I know,
because I have to leave.

Whatever made her leave,

I could tell
she didn't want to.

Where are you going?

I don't know.
It doesn't matter.

-Tracy!
-Look.

It's not your fault, okay?

It's... [sighs]

There's a reason
I don't put myself out there.

There's a reason
I don't get online

or have a bank account.

There's a reason
I live off the grid!

Look, I've never asked
till now,

but are you in trouble?

Please don't go there,
because I can't tell you.

All I've ever dreamed of
since I was a kid

was to just sing
my songs for people,

and if I can't,

I'm so happy it's you
who's singing them for me.

So this is it?
I never see you again?

No.

[♪♪♪]

But check your mail.

[♪♪♪]

And I never saw her again.

But the songs--?

[chuckles] The songs...

Every once in a while,
I get a song in the mail.

No letter,
just the music.

But I record it.

Almost every one is a hit.

Then you take
all the credit?

That's the way she wants it,

but every dime those songs make
is waiting for her

when she's ready
to stop hiding.

And when would that be?

I don't know...

maybe never.

It's hard...

singing those songs,
you know?

I don't know if she gets it,

but I send her some cash
every month

to stay safe from...
whatever, whoever it is.

And what's the address
that you send that to?

[♪♪♪]

Mr. Holloway...

we are bound by law

to deliver
the letter she wrote,

and she seems to be
our only link.

So...

...what is the address
where you send the money?

[sets glass down]

[♪♪♪]

There's no address.

[paper rustles]

Every song she sends,
just has a P.O. box

and a zip code
at the bottom.

They change a lot.

This is the last one.

The first numbers here
are the box number.

The last five
are always the zip.

These days, I've been
sending everything to this one.

82007.

Cheyenne, Wyoming.

That's it...
just a P.O. box.

I only address it
to "Current Boxholder".

[Oliver clears throat]
Thank you.

You have all this--

a life full of fans
and groupies,

everything you dreamed of...

...and you still carry a torch

for the one girl
that you can't have.

Yeah.

[♪♪♪]

[Harvey Schmidtz]
Dear Oliver...

I think of you so often

and, over the years,

have written letters to you

in the hope

that they may be useful
as you grow up,

or at the very least,

allow me to feel like
the father I wish I could be.

I was born
in Louisville, Kentucky.

I consider myself
a Renaissance man.

As a child,
I read the classics.

I love taking things apart
and putting them back together.

And if you find yourself
clinging to the Oxford comma,

as I do,

then you are truly the son
I imagine you to be.

[chuckles]

[♪♪♪]

♪ 65 miles to go to Cheyenne ♪

♪ 65 miles to go ♪

♪ You drive along
and sing this song... ♪

His introductory letter

was just revelatory
and eloquent.

He loved Shakespeare,

which must explain
my affinity for the Bard.

Do you know
he could read Latin

and invented
an electric letter opener?

I'm proud of you.

Opening that first letter
wasn't easy.

No, it wasn't,
but once I started,

it was as if
I had written the letter myself.

There are dozens here.

There's, uh...

oh, your first date,

your, uh,
high-school graduation,

your first job,

and there is a letter

for each of
life's major events.

[Shane chuckles]

I wish I could have
gotten them sooner.

You have them now.

[Oliver] Let's get
that blood circulating!

Ah.

Oh, I figured out

a way for us to raise money
for the postal museum.

Great. What?

Every year,
there's an all-female rodeo

that raises money
to support

the Famous Cowgirls
of Wyoming Museum.

It's like a huge party,
but with cattle.

We should have one!

-A rodeo?
-A fundraiser.

A gala!

But with stamps,
instead of cows.

Wow, we could do that.

Yes.

You know, you've only
had a couple crackers

since we left Vegas.

Do you want some?

Not in this trimester,
but thanks.

-[thump-thump]
-All tanked up!

Oh!

[♪♪♪]

-[crash]
-Oh!

Welcome to Mailboxes-A-Plenty,

where your privacy
is our priority.

We need to speak
to your manager.

Why?

We have reason to believe

that the person
that owns Box 1013

could be in harm's way,

and we need an address.

That's why people have
P.O. boxes, buddy--

so they don't want rando people
knowing where they live.

That's why we need to speak
to your manager, "buddy".

[both chuckling]

She's gone for the day.

Um...

...if someone puts
a stamp on a letter,

we have authority...

-Mm.
-...Aplenty.

[Rita takes a breath, sighs]

W-We'll talk more
when we get back.

Well, Ramon says

that he has done a million galas
and has amazing ideas.

I have no doubt!

We should get started on PR
for the museum,

make it Denver's
go-to event of the year.

Do you think Norman has
a cousin who works in publicity?

Do you know
that there are 43 letters here?

One for almost every year
of my life?

We got it!

-What's the billing address?
-No address,

uh, but the box-holder's name
is "Jane K. Carter".

Wait, what? Not Tracy Reo?

-Nope.
-And whoever Jane is,

she's had the same P.O. box
for the last two years,

and she always pays cash
to renew it.

So, uh, can Jane Carter
and Tracy Reo

be one and the same?

We can find out.

Apparently,
she checks her box every morning

at 11:00 a.m.

Oliver, "Jane Kary Carter"

died in Laramie, Wyoming

in 2004,
at six weeks old.

Tracy would be
about that age now.

I think Tracy Reo adopted
a different identity

to protect her own.

Great work, everyone.

You know...

I think we need
to get hotel rooms now.

Oh, or maybe...

something better!

[thump-thump]

My worst nightmare
has come true.

I'm sitting on a folding chair
in Wyoming,

pregnant...

smelling--

[disdainfully]
...pulled pork.

Mm! [chuckles]

You know, when I was 10,

my mother
was our Girl Scout leader.

Everybody loved
sitting around the campfire,

listening to her
tell ghost stories.

Hers were always the best,
because she knew the ghosts.

Your mother
was one of a kind...

or maybe several.

I wish she was here to help us
when we adopt Sunny.

So have you settled on
a name for this little one?

Oh... [chuckles]

We keep trying to make a list,

but every time
we hear one we like,

it's always
better than the others.

And what's today's winner, hmm?

"Cheyenne."

-Oh!
-Oh...

[Shane chuckles]

I wonder
what Tracy's real name is?

"A rose by any other name
would smell as sweet."

Or would it?

Does changing your name
really change who we are?

I don't think so.
I think we'd all smell the same.

Are you gonna eat that?

It's all yours.

Great!

[♪♪♪]

[Norman]
11:00. Should be any time now.

[♪♪♪]

[Shane sighs]

Oh!

"When you meet
the love of your life."

Oh, van approaching!

3:00!

This is so exciting.

Norman, did you see
who's driving?

[Norman] Uh, no.

There's something
on the back window.

A disability parking permit?

[repulsed] Oh, no!
No, get that away from me.

Huh? Oh, sorry!

Oh, she's getting out!

[remote entry beeps]

Oh, she looks suspicious.

Oh, she's looking over here!

Why is she driving
a wheelchair-accessible van?

Not Tracy... or not Jane?
Maybe that's not her van.

[darkly]
Maybe she stole it.

Oh...

she's checkin' the mail.

If we're gonna take her,
we take her down now!

We're not taking anyone down.

We must be rigorous
with our next move,

otherwise we'll scare her,

and she'll go
back on the run.

Oh, she's comin' out!

[remote entry chirps]

She's getting in the van!

Oh, she's backing up!

Norman, follow that van.

[RV engine rumbles and chugs]

[♪♪♪]

[♪♪♪]

[Rita] Oh, there she is!

[organ playing]

[Tracy singing a hymn]

[♪♪♪]

[knocking]

[Oliver takes a deep breath
as music ends]

[door opening]

May I help you?

Uh, my name is Oliver O'Toole,
and these are my colleagues.

We're from the United States
Postal Service.

You have a beautiful voice.

Thanks.

Uh, Bach, I believe?

Wohl mir,
dass ich Jesum habe?

Right.

Sorry, what can I do for you?

We are trying
to deliver a letter.

Oh, I can give it
to Mrs. Slocum.

I'm her caregiver.

It's not actually
for Mrs. Slocum.

It's not even for you.

It was written by you--
Tracy--

or whatever
your name actually may be.

What did Nate tell you?

Only that you left because
you were scared of something.

We don't want
to disrupt your life, Tracy,

but I know from experience,

no matter what you do,

there really is no such thing
as a secret.

Sooner or later,
it'll come out.

It's just up to you
how you want your story told.

I grew up in Chicago...

and we were actually
a pretty happy family,

until my dad started gambling.

I... I had a family like that.

So you know

that, sooner or later,
the money runs out,

someone gets scared,
and then angry, and then...

people get hurt.

My dad robbed a bank.

I was 14,

and one day,
my dad calls from work,

and says
he's taking the family

on a two-week vacation--

to make everything up to us.

My mom didn't want to go,

but my dad--

it was just safer to say yes.

[Camille]
Your suitcase is in the trunk.

[Tracy]
We packed up the car

and drove to the bank
to pick him up from work.

Give me your phone.

[Tracy] My mom had no idea
what was really happening

until it was too late.

[splashing]

My dad was the bank manager,

and he took everything
out of the vault

and disappeared with us

on the Friday night
of a three-day weekend,

which meant
he had a three-day head start.

By the time my mom

saw her face on the news
next to my dad,

she knew that she'd be seen
as his accomplice,

and our two-week vacation
turned into a permanent one.

We traded cars.
We...

dyed our hair different colors.

We changed her names.

We...

were homeschooled by my mother.

We moved around a lot.

My dad, he...

paid off some scary guys...

...and gambled away
the rest of the money

that he stole,

and ended up working
odd jobs for cash,

which just...

It made him angrier...

and more dangerous.

[sniffles]

[tearfully] We were scared
to stay with him and scared--

Scared to leave.

I know
it doesn't make any sense.

Nothing makes sense to a child
living in a family like that...

at least not until
you're away from it.

One morning, we woke up
and my dad was just gone.

It was a relief.

And you didn't go
to the police?

He was gone,

but it didn't change the fact

that my mom
was still a wanted person.

No matter what she told them,
she would have been arrested,

and then what would have
happened to me and Amber?

Foster care.

I can't believe

they're still looking for you
after all this time.

It's a national bank,

so that's a federal crime,

and...

those people
just don't give up.

So you started all over again,
just the three of you?

We made it all the way--

To Colorado?

[Tracy] I can't say.

It took some time,

but we actually found a way
to almost have a normal life,

just as long as we didn't
get too close to anyone or--

Attract attention.

That must have been
so hard for a girl

who always dreamed
of being in the spotlight.

[chuckles softly]

I loved my family enough
to stay...

...but my mom loved me enough
to let me go.

When I turned 18,

she said it was time to leave
and live my own life.

They found a city
they could just disappear into,

and we'd communicate
through post-office box.

I'd write about my songs,
being on the road,

but nothing too specific,

and sometimes,
we would arrange a pass-by...

like at a park,

or a counter at a diner,

or an empty church...

but we had a close call.

One of those crime TV shows
mentioned my parents,

and so we connected
less and less.

This letter...

...was the last time
I knew where to reach her.

When I left this one behind
at Starmaker's,

someone had taken
a photo of me that night,

and the police
were checking I.D.s,

so I was worried

that somebody
would find this letter,

put two and two together
like you did,

and so I never wrote
to that box number again.

I haven't spoken to them
in five years.

[sighing]

Do you think
they're still in Colorado,

hiding in plain sight?

I can't help you.

I won't be the reason
my own mother gets arrested.

I would send her money
that I'd get from Nate,

but once I lost her,

I didn't know
where to send it anymore.

If you find her,

can you just tell her
that...

Lily--
that's my real name--

[Shane chuckles softly]

[voice cracks] ...can you
tell her that Lily's okay?

[♪♪♪]

[clears throat]

[sighs]

You have our word.

You've given up an awful lot
to protect her.

My mom used
to play the organ at our church,

and she taught me
everything I know about music.

It's how
I learned to love Bach,

and yeah, she gave me

the chance to break away
and sing my own music

and try
and finally be somebody.

And I tried...

but it turns out that...

if it puts the people you love
in danger,

it's not worth it.

[♪♪♪]

[sighing]

Well, we're right back
where we started.

But we know something
we didn't know before.

Her mother taught piano
and plays the organ.

People play the organ
all over the world.

The zip was in Denver.

Except Lily says
she's probably long gone by now.

Norman, um, I apologize
for bringing up a...

a painful subject,

but when you were separated
from your mother as a child

at the National
Western Stock Show,

what did you do?

Oh, well,

there was that stampede
that I started, accidentally,

um, but then I went back
to the last place I saw her--

the 4-H exhibit.

And she never came,

but that's where
I waited for her.

That's what my mother
used to always say.

"If you get lost,

go back to the last place
we were together,

and I'll be waiting there
for you."

And a mother like Lily's
would...

wait there forever,
I would imagine.

If that's true,

she took a big chance
staying in one place.

Amazing what a parent
will do for their child.

[♪♪♪]

This is gonna be hard.

As federal employees,

we are required
to report her to the FBI,

aren't we?

[sighing]

That is quite a moral dilemma.

Sadly...

there's no dilemma
at all.

We have no choice.

[♪♪♪]

[chuckling] Oh!

You must be so excited
about being a grandfather.

Charley, it's the greatest thing
to happen to me since...

-well, since Oliver.
-Ohh!

Tell me, what's going on
with that boyfriend of yours?

[gasps] Marlon?

[chuckles]

[gushing] He is...

the best thing
to happen to me

since you!

Yeah, he is!

Life is good.

[door opens]

Hey!

Three days in that old RV.
How did it go?

[Shane] Very, very well.

Quite productive
and enlightening.

And we may have
a lead on the mother.

Oh, what was
Nate Holloway like?

Pretty nice guy, actually.

Aw!

Oh, and Rita--
she will never be the same.

[both laughing]

Where are they?
Rita and Norman?

[Shane]
Oh, they're on their way.

Rita wanted to stop
for breakfast-- again.

Ah.

And then they're meeting
the birth mother.

[Charley] Oh, um...

Oliver, Dr. Nichols wants us
to come in today at 11:00.

Are you okay to cover for us
again, Charley?

Yeah, no problem.

You opened it?

[Oliver] I did.

You okay?

Uh, it's a very busy day.

Perhaps later?

Later, got it.

I've got some work to do
in the museum anyway.

[♪♪♪]

So, uh, Tracy is actually Lily,

and she has a sister
named Amber,

um, and their mom's
real name is--

oh...

here we go. Oliver?

[Charley] Whoa.

"Wanted by the Federal
Bureau of Investigation

for federal bank robbery--

James and Camille Conley."

They're bank robbers?

He is.

She isn't,
but they are still on the run.

But the father ditched them

and left the mom and the girls
alone to fend for themselves.

Yeah! "Subject's known

to travel
with two female minors."

Oh, they even have
age progressions.

Wow.

Some of these actually
look like Lily now.

What's her story?

Well, Lily says
that her mom plays the organ

and loves Bach,

so run a search for organists

in Denver
over the last five years

with first initials
"M-A-R".

That was the alias
she used on the envelope.

Oh, and put a tag on it
for Baroque music.

Mm-hmm.

This is actually gonna be
good practice for you.

Oliver, we should go.

Yes.

[clears throat]

So...
the baby's still looking good,

but your blood test
came back,

and I'd like to run
another test.

At the moment,
I'm not worried,

but we need to keep an eye out
for a few things.

Such as?

Well, you have slightly
elevated glucose levels,

and we don't want
to be surprised

by anything down the line,
like gestational diabetes.

Is there something
to worry about?

Well, it's a real possibility.

We need to stay vigilant
and watch what you eat now.

There's not much
to watch at this point.

Oliver, this--
this is a blessing.

You know, not everybody
gets this kind of help

when they're pregnant.

We will be fine.

It's just another test,

and whatever we find out,
we'll know what to do about it.

What is it you say--
knowledge is power?

I just feel so helpless.

I think every father does,
no matter what's going on.

Every good one,
at least.

I'm gonna go back to the DLO,

and maybe you need
to find your dad

and talk to him about this.

I love you.

[exhaling deeply]

Hey.

Hans thinks

the attic would make
a great interactive mail room,

so I thought
I'd clean it up a bit.

What's on your mind, son?

I got some news.

Um...

I want to ask you
a question first.

Shoot.

Did you know
it was full of letters?

Yes,

but I didn't read them,
of course.

He wrote 43...

...from as far back
as 30 years ago.

43?

Have you read them all?

Most of them.

Enough to have some questions.

[clears throat]

I'm listening.

Why didn't you give them
to me before?

Before... what?

Before now! Before--

Before you were ready?

And you would know
when that was?

[scoffs]

I'm your dad, Ollie.

Harvey Schmidtz wrote those
when he was ready.

I put them away for you

to read
when I thought you were ready.

I don't think you were
waiting for the right time.

You found them in the attic.
I think--

What-- do you think?

I think you put 'em away
until you were ready!

That's what I think.

I don't think
I'd ever be ready

to hand over
something to my son

that could hurt him,

but they were written to you,

and if there's anything
you and I share,

it's a respect
for the sanctity of a letter,

so, yes, I put them away
for you to read someday,

but...

[chuckles softly]

Well, we didn't see each other

for over a decade...

and before that,
you were just a kid.

You were-- You were a--
an angry teenager

grieving a runaway mom

and in no position

to deal with the shock
of discovering

that there was
another man out there

who was your father.

It is shocking.

He loved

letters
and Shakespeare

and precision,
tradition, logic.

He sounds just like me.

So, absolutely,
it is a shock.

I knew it would be,

so I decided to hold onto them
until you grew up.

I did grow up,

and you and I
reconciled years ago,

and you hung onto them
for what--

another 10 years,
after he died?

Not on purpose.

I'm sorry. I-I...

After all that time,
I just... forgot.

I forgot all about them
until the other day,

when you and I came up here,
and... [sighs]

I don't know.

You know,
if I'm being honest--

[chuckles softly]

...there's a part of me

that never much
liked the idea

of having to compete
with some guy

who never had to say no to you,

or-or punish you,

or tell you
to wash the dishes.

I'm the one
who kept you from falling

when you were
learning to walk,

or had to let you
make important mistakes.

So, hey, maybe
reading those letters now--

now that you're gonna have
a son of your own,

a child of your own,

maybe it's exactly
the right time

for you to learn

that writing down
a few pieces of advice

and stickin' 'em in a box

doesn't make you...

a father.

Being a father

is about being there...

son.

And at a moment like this,

it's...

about knowing
when not to be there,

so I'm going to take a walk.

We just got another hit
on Lily's mom.

-Oh?
-There's a story here

in the "Denver Post"
about a "Marilyn Walker."

"Organist Marilyn Walker

celebrated
her 100th birthday--"

Never-Never mind.

Well, this is the 15th organist
whose name starts with "M-A-R".

Mm. Mary, Marla,
Marissa, Maureen,

Mariannette, Marvella,
Marvina--

Oh, wait!

Here's one more.

It's the staff list

from a church bulletin
at Denver Park Episcopal.

Choir director Robert Hamilton,
organist Margot Hope.

Organists usually work
part-time, right?

For cash, maybe?

Yeah, I think
it's worth a look.

Uh, you guys stay here
and, um, finish...

all your food,

and I will go get Oliver.

-Okay, bye!
-Bye.

[♪♪♪]

[Oliver sighing deeply]

We have a lead!

The organist at Denver Park
Episcopal Church.

It's a long shot,

but we could go and see her
before my nap.

Hey, you okay?

What's going on?
Did you talk to Joe?

Uh, I didn't tell him.

We got into a fight.

What? What about?

It was about those letters.

I would like you

to go home
and nap,

take care of yourself.

I will go follow the lead.

I am fine, Oliver,

and considering the day
you've had so far,

I'm not so sure that you should
be doing this alone.

This is exactly
the kind of thing

I should be doing alone.

If it does turn out
to be Camille Conley,

I'll have
to notify the authorities,

and I'm sure you don't want
to be there for that.

[door opens, then shuts]

[door creaks]

[♪♪♪]

[door opens]

Pardon me.

May I sit with you?

You just seem a little lost.

Um, yeah, uh...

I'm just...

I'm sorry, are you...

[sniffles]

Are you the organist?

Yes. I'm Margot Hope.

[deep breath, sighs]

You know,
you are right, Miss Hope.

I came here...

feeling a little lost today.

My past and my future

seem to be colliding, uh...

and I'm struggling to find
my place in it all...

...and I've never been
this scared before.

But-- ahem--

you're used to living
with that kind of fear

every day,

aren't you, Camille?

Is that why you chose
the name "Hope"?

I always wondered
when this day would come.

Believe it or not...

[chuckles]

I'm from the Post Office.

My name is Oliver O'Toole,

and, um...

I'm here

to deliver a letter

from Lily.

Lily? Is she okay?

Yes, she's-- she's fine.

You haven't heard from her
because that letter was lost,

then she was afraid
writing you again

would put you in jeopardy.

You've seen her?

Yes.

She's remarkable,

and she wants you to know
that she is safe.

Lily also gave us, uh...

...money to deliver,
if we located you.

She wouldn't help us find you.

We had to do that on our own.

She is still
protecting her family.

But, sadly...

delivering that letter

comes with a price.

You have to turn me in.

You've been using U.S. Mail

to elude capture
for a federal crime.

A crime my husband committed,
but we've been paying for.

[door creaks open]

[Amber] Mom?

I'll be right there, honey.

Amber?

Yes, she'll be 18
in six weeks.

That's all I need...

just six more weeks
to get her ready,

and say goodbye.

Then you can walk me into
the police station yourself,

I promise.

[clears throat]

Uh, Miss Conley,
I-I'm afraid--

Do you have children?

[♪♪♪]

-[door opens]
-Oliver?

There you are.

How did it go?
Was it her?

Yes.

So what happened?

Well...

delivered the letter.

I gave her the money...

and I gave her...

...a chance.

[gasps softly]

I knew you would.

That's just who you are.

Shane...

[sighs] Right now...

I don't have...

any idea who I am,
at all.

You are someone

who believes in people

and in second chances.

You are my husband
and my hero...

...and you are going
to be the father

of a beautiful little baby,

who will grow up
to adore you,

just as you adore Joe
and Joe adores you.

Why are we talking
about my dad?

Because, Oliver.

Because he deserves
a second chance, too.

When you stopped speaking to him
for all those years,

Joe wrote you letters too,
remember?

46.

And you returned
all of them-- unopened.

Harvey Schmidtz
writes you almost as many,

and you read every single one.
Why?

Because I was curious.

I...

[sighs]

[sighs deeply]

I wanted to see
if we had anything in common,

if he really cared about me

or if he just wrote
those letters because...

he didn't want me
to hate him for what he did.

For falling in love with

and having an affair
with your mother?

Yeah...

Yeah.

That was bad...

[chuckles softly]

...but if he hadn't...

...there wouldn't

have been you.

[sniffles and breathes deeply]

Hmm!

What a mysterious
and magnificent mess

life can be, hmm?

Harvey Schmidtz gave you life,

but Joseph O'Toole
gave you a life.

Maybe you need to go back
to the last place you saw him.

[♪♪♪]

Dad?

[knocking]

Hello?

[exhales]

I took a long walk.

A very long walk.

You said
you had some news?

Shane's doctor called us back
for another test.

Okay.

She could be at risk
for diabetes.

Wow.

I-Is she okay?
Are you okay?

She's already at risk
for so many other things,

and now this.

But she's amazing.

She's so... calm
and, um, and strong,

but I'm...

[sighs]

I mean, this is...

There's a letter in there
for everything--

...romance, work, school,
money...

books.

Everything,
but there's no letter

that tells me
what I'm supposed to do

when the woman
I can't live without

is having a baby...

and anything can happen
to her, or them,

and I may lose
everything I love.

There's nothing in there
that tells me

how to be
what she needs me to be,

what I need to be
for them.

Nothing that teaches me
how to be the...

[voice shakes]
...the father that...

you.

[Oliver sighs]

When that doctor was...

[box settles on step]

...talking to us,

I just wanted to talk
to my dad,

but I was so...

[sighs]

...angry with you
about those stupid letters.

Because I held on to them
so long?

Because reading them--
[inhales deeply]

[voice cracks]
...made everything true.

[sniffles]

And that smart, eccentric...

particular...

logical man

was really my father.

For all those years, I--

I think I hoped,

somewhere
in the back of my head

or my heart,

that, um,

that maybe there was a chance,
that maybe--

Maybe...

it was me after all?

No.

[deep breath, heavy sigh]

I know.

But after all...

it was you.

And I was sitting here,
thinking about

growing up in this house...

and who always
was there for me,

always--

it was you.

It still is, Dad.

[shakily]
And I'm not going anywhere.

Good.

Because I need you.

I've been reading a lot of
prenatal books about parenting,

and apparently,

when it comes down to it--

babies don't come
with instructions.

Oh, actually, you did--

the "Oliver O'Toole Handbook:

A Guide to Raising
a Postal Prodigy."

Very helpful!

[both laughing]

[sighing]

[♪♪♪]

And for dessert--

we end the gala

with a vanilla cake
with a chantilly cream.

I love a chantilly!

Mm--

"Chantilly Dorman."
It's better than Cheyenne.

Mm!

You guys are still here?

Yeah, we thought
you were coming back,

so we ordered more lunch...

and then dinner.

Coming right up!

[chuckling in disbelief]

Well, Raymond told us
his plans for the gala.

And?

We still have six weeks
to make it very postal.

-Good.
-Mm-hmm!

So, um, Oliver found Camille
and delivered the letter.

Oh. Did he...?

No, he didn't report her,
not yet.

But he will?

Well, he did
the right thing today,

and if he has to,

he'll do the right thing again,
if the time comes.

[♪♪♪]

[Oliver] Amber's 18,

and I'm-I'm afraid
we can't wait any longer.

Poor Amber.

And Lily.
And, well, all of them.

It's just heartbreaking.

This might be the hardest thing
I've ever had to do.

I know.

But you've done more for her
than most people would.

She's already paid
such a high price.

Hopefully
they'll see it that way

and give her a break.

Well, all that'll
have to be negotiated.

She possibly might not
do much time.

It's happened before.

So we're doing this?

Yes.

What are you doing here?

You found her?
You found my mom?

A few weeks ago.

You turned her in?

[Oliver] You won't have
much time together, Lily.

They'll be here for your mother
in two hours.

Mom?

My sweet girl!

[♪♪♪]

[jazz band playing]

[Hans] This is where
the Meditation Atrium will be.

[♪♪♪]

[♪♪♪]

Look at them.

[♪♪♪]

You've given them
such an incredible gift, Oliver.

[sighs]

I just wish
they had more time.

[♪♪♪]

Ladies and gentlemen...

generous donors
and sponsors

of the future Colorado
Museum of Postal History...

some of you may recall

that, before this establishment
was "Ramon's Catalan Kitchen,"

it was the nationally-renowned
Starmaker's--

a club where
the soon-to-be famous performed.

Tonight,

let us go back in time,

back to Starmaker's,

to watch one last star
be born. Hmm?

So please,

let's give it up
for...

Lily Conley!

[crowd applauding and cheering]

Go on.

No, no, I can't.

I can't.

Lily, remember your stamps.

"The singer doesn't sing
because she has answers.

The singer sings...

because she has a song."

And I need to hear it
before I go.

I love you.

I love you, too, Mom.

All right?

Okay.

[applause rises]

[♪♪♪]

♪ The sun goes down again ♪

♪ And I remember when ♪

♪ We sang ♪

♪ Sunsets down together ♪

♪ Now I watch the sky ♪

♪ Waiting for the reasons
Why ♪

♪ Why I even care
about tomorrow ♪

♪ Or forever ♪

♪ But when the moon rises ♪

♪ I look up and pray ♪

♪ That somehow there's a way ♪

♪ You're staring at it too ♪

♪ Because if we can't say it
in the here and now ♪

♪ We tell it to the moon ♪

♪ We tell it to the moon ♪

♪ Tell it to the moon ♪

♪ We tell it to the moon ♪

♪ And I just keep on running
from town to town ♪

♪ To town to town ♪

♪ Trying to keep my world
from going down, down, down ♪

♪ Trying to do what's right ♪

♪ Just leaves me
with a broken heart ♪

♪ That never ever
sees the li-i-i-ight ♪

♪ So I tell it to the moon ♪

[police officer]
Please step inside, Ms. Conley.

[♪♪♪]

[♪♪♪]

♪ I tell it to the moon ♪

♪ Tell it to the moon ♪

♪ It's all that I can do-o-o-o ♪

♪ Tell it to the moon ♪

♪ Tell it
to the moon ♪

[♪♪♪]

[loud cheering and applauding]

[♪♪♪]

Here.

Oh, thank you.

You're welcome.

I'm very proud of you.

And I am in awe of you.

[clink]

Well, as days go...

today was definitely
a big one.

Mm. So much joy

and so much sadness
at the same time.

What a mysterious,
magnificent mess life can be.

We should go home, but...

I know.

It just feels so right,
coming back here tonight.

Mm-hmm.

-Mm-hmm.
-Yeah, just to...

I don't know,

just to appreciate being
together, because--

Because not everyone can.

[phone dings and buzzes]

Oh! Norman...

uh, Norman!

Sunny was just born.

-Oh, my gosh!
-Oh, my goodness!

-[Norman] We have a baby!
-Yes!

-[Norman] We've got a baby!
-You have to go!

[Shane]
Go! You've got to go now!

-Oh, my goodness.
-Drive safely.

And also, don't forget
to take a Yoo-Hoo for the road.

Yup!

[Rita] We've got to go!

[Shane] Go!

[Oliver] We'll see you soon!

Drive carefully!

[♪♪♪]

[Shane chuckles]

Oh...

[laughs]

[sighs]

I love us.

I love... all of us.

All of us.

[♪♪♪]