Willie: It's... It's Will.
Emma: Willie? Oh, my goodness. Hi. Wow! Hey. Will Donner. Um... How...
Willie: I... I was... I was just walking, and I just saw you.
Emma: This is really something. How are you?
Willie: I know. I... I'm good. I'm really good. How are... how are you?
Emma: I'm fine. Doing fine. I...Weird. I don't know.
Willie: I know. I know.
Emma: Gosh. Look at you. Whiskers.
Willie: Look at you. Breasts.
Emma: Yeah. So, what? Do you... you live here now? Did you move here?
Willie: I'm here. I'm always here.
Emma: Well, what? Did you just move back, or...
Emma: You're just visiting?
Willie: Yeah. Yeah. I'm just visiting.
Emma: What's it been? Like years and years.
Willie: It's been forever. It was the end of summer. I was visiting Joey, remember? It was all muggy and hot out, and then we went swimming, but you had to go to your dance lesson.
Emma: Joey... I haven't thought about him in so long.
Willie: Hey. Emma.
Willie: Uh... Do you want to go sit somewhere?
Emma: Oh, Willie, I can't. I'm meeting somebody. I'm really happy to see you though. You look really great.
Willie: Thanks. You look beautiful.
Emma: Thank you.
Willie: But I... I would also say you look like you've been through the wringer.
Emma: Do you want to walk with me for a little?
Joey: Hey, Jimbo.
Jimbo: Is my brother around?
Joey: Uh, he's not actually. Uh, you know, today's the big day. Didn't you know that?
Jimbo: Know what?
Joey's wife: He finally went to Emma's.
Jimbo: No, no. See? See, this is the thing.
Joey's wife: What thing?
Jimbo: He's sick. All right? And somebody's gotta do something. Okay? Somebody's gotta step in.
Joey: What are you talking about, he's sick?
Jimbo: Just look at him. Who is he talking to half of the time?
Joey: Jimmy, you know exactly who he's talking to.
Jimbo: Oh, I do?
Joey: Your mom and your dad.
Jimbo: You know what he thinks about his mommy and daddy? He thinks they went to a Broadway show on a Thursday afternoon. Matinee on a Thursday? No, that doesn't happen. You ever see my mother without a cigarette in her hand? My Fair Lady? No way. Dad was taking her to radiation treatments. Breast cancer, lung cancer, liver cancer. And how do I know this? How do I know? I know because he told me...when I was 11. He wants to believe in this... fairy tale. You know? Our beautiful mother, our... our handsome father... frickin' Prince Charming, Cinderella. Matinee my ass. Everything was as bad as it could get, and then it got worse.