Becca: Hey Mom, it's me.
Nat: What's wrong?
Becca: Nothing. I was thinking about making Izzy's birthday cake. Would that be alright?
Nat: Oh Honey, you don't need to do all that. I was just gonna grab her one of those Carvel things. She likes those.
Becca: I don't mind. I really don’t. I mean, it'll give me something to do.
Nat: Okay, okay. No group tonight?
Becca: Howie's there. It's too much God talk for me... What.
Nat: Nothing. It's just... you know, some people find that comforting.
Becca: Yeah, well, it pisses me off.
Nat: You know, Becca, when your brother died, I found the church very helpful.
Becca: I know. I know you did, but that's you, that’s not me. And Danny... Danny isn't Arthur.
Nat: You know, I brought you to church every Sunday-
Becca: Let's not start this again, okay mom? I’m just...just calling about the cake.
Nat: You're not right about everything, you know. What if there is a God?
Becca: Then I'd say he's a sadistic prick.
Nat: Alright, Becca. That's enough.
Becca: "Worship me and I'll treat you like shit." No wonder you like him, he sounds just like Dad. I'm sorry.
Nat: You're gonna do the cake then?
Nat: Right, I'll see you tomorrow.
Becca: Who has a birthday party at a bowling alley anyway? I mean, Izzy thinks she's still fourteen.
Howie: If you're not up to this we don't have to go.
Becca: No, it's just a party. I'm fine. I wish you'd take that thing out of here.
Howie: You're hardly in this car, what's the difference?
Becca: It's weird. It feels weird.
Howie: What if we give it another try? Another baby?
Howie: Well we're not getting any younger.
Becca: Is that what the sex thing was about the other night?
Becca: You trying to get me pregnant?
Howie: Becca, no, of course not. I know it's scary, but maybe it might...help us get back on track.
Becca: On track?
Howie: What, we can't talk about it?
Becca: I think we should sell the house. I've been thinking about it, and since we're on the topic...
Howie: What? What do you mean...How were we on the topic?
Becca: I've talked to a realtor and she thinks...
Howie: What do you mean you talked to a realtor?
Becca: ...we can pull together an open house pretty quickly.
Howie: Why would you talked to a realtor without telling me?
Becca: I'm telling you now. You want to get us back on track, I think it'd help if we moved.
Howie: We love that house.
Becca: He's everywhere, Howie. I can see his fingerprints on the door jambs, I see...
Howie: I like seeing his fingerprints.
Becca: That's because you don't have to sit and stare at them all day. You get to go to work. You get to escape!
Howie: Yes, I don't want to move!
Becca: I don't want another baby!
(brake the car abruptly)
Howie: Jesus! What are you doing?
Becca: What do you think I'm doing? I just have to check the cake. It's fine.