Play Date

10 Hazen.

"Arlene, would you excuse us for a moment?" Charlie asks before pulling Paige and Riley aside.

"I am not putting Missy in a car with a stranger for five hours a day," Paige insists.

"She's her mother," Riley says.

"Who has been God knows where the past decade?" Charlie attempts to cool things down.

"It's a delicate situation here," she says. "We don't want Missy out of our sight, and we don't want Arlene getting any ideas in her head."

"Are we in trouble?" Riley asks what should have been the first question.

"Not yet," Charlie says. "But maybe the best way for us to keep control of things would be if Arlene could stay here under your supervision."

"Are you high?" Paige says.

"A few weeks at most. Listen, I know her kind. She's not in this for the long haul."

"I say we do it," Riley says. Paige doesn't agree but can't think of anything better.

"Under protest," she says.

Charlie leads Paige and Riley back to Arlene and Missy. Riley delivers the message.

"Arlene, we want to help you get acquainted with Missy, but we're concerned about the amount of travel involved."

"Especially on school days," Paige interjects.

"So, we were thinking it might be best if, temporarily, you'd live with us," Riley says. Missy steps closer to Paige. Paige puts her hand on Missy's shoulder without a thought.

"You can stay in our guest room," Paige concedes. Arlene approaches Missy.

"Would you like that, Missy?" she asks. Missy offers no expression.

"Great!" Charlie says, "We're all in agreement."

Charlie has left. Arlene will return to Bakersfield tomorrow to pick up her things. For now, they will have dinner and Arlene will spend the night. As they sit around the dining table, Arlene offers a short version of her life story.

"I was born and raised in Hazen, Arkansas," she begins.

"Never heard of it," Riley says.

"Nobody has. It's a small, small town in Prairie County."

"Is Missy's father in Hazen?" Paige asks.

"That's debatable." It incenses Paige.

"You don't know?" she asks. Arlene tries to put her story into words a woman like Paige might understand.

"Paige," she starts, "my what an elegant name that is. I know what you must think of me. But you got to understand Hazen ain't but four miles square along interstate forty. You pretty much done everything there is to do by the time you're sixteen. Everybody who don't get out winds up dating everybody else eventually. People passing through just help break up the boredom. Give you something to dream about."

"That's sad," Riley says.

"All I knew was that when Missy come along, I wasn't about to let her wind up being a thirty-year-old night clerk at the Exxon."

"Then how did I get to California?" Missy demands.

"Well, baby girl..." Arlene tries to answer, but Missy won't have it.

"Don't call me that!"

"Missy," Paige reprimands.

"It's all right," Arlene says. "This trucker hauling Cadillacs stopped in for coffee on his way to San Diego. The way he described it sounded so exotic and out of reach. I just wanted something better for Missy, so I worked out what you might call an arrangement with him. Got us out of Hazen."

"You're lying," Missy says. "I've never been to San Diego."

"Me, neither," Arlene says with a sigh. "We got to Victorville and I just plain run out of ambition. I'm so sorry. If I could have held on all the way to San Diego, you might have had a better life."

The next morning, Paige and Riley rush to get out the front door.

"Missy!" Riley yells, "Chop-chop!"

"I'm right here," Missy says from behind him. Paige arrives along with Arlene.

"Missy's school lets out at two-thirty," Paige tells Arlene. "I'll have her back here by three." She turns to Riley. "And I'll be back to the office by three-twenty." Riley is not sure about her schedule.

"That's cutting it close," he says. "Our first interview is at three-thirty."

"I'll be all right as long as I don't hit traffic," Paige says. Arlene offers help.

"I could pick her up. I'd like to." Paige must concede she needs the help.

"I'll text you the address," she says as she, Riley, and Missy scoot out the door.

Once she has the house to herself, Arlene explores every square inch. She studies their possessions, dips her toes in the pool, and tries on Paige's clothes. Missy's room is ripe for snooping. Arlene even finds Missy's suitcase under the bed. Not for one second does she debate opening it. When she does, she tears up at the sight of Squiggle.

Riley and Paige hit the ground running on their new show. They jam their first day with back-to-back meetings, non-stop texts and calls, and wading through stacks of resumes to fill their staff. With any luck, office furniture will arrive later in the week.

They conduct their 3:30 interview with an up-and-coming production designer seated in folding chairs. No one minds. The interview goes well. She's presented an impressive portfolio. Riley wraps up the meeting.

"That about covers everything," he says. "We will decide by tomorrow." He shakes the production designer's hand.

"I can start immediately," the production designer hopeful offers on the way out.
Paige turns her attention to her phone before the job applicant is all the way out the door.

"What do you think?" Riley asks. Paige has other things on her mind.

"I think we're nuts, giving the code to our security system to a stranger."

"Do you need me to focus on the hiring process?" Riley asks. Paige grabs a stack of papers from the card table that is their temporary desk.

"No," she says, "let's go over these resumés." She flips through the applications and says, "Riley, we know nothing about this woman other than what she's told us, and who knows if any of it is true?"

"We're not talking about the last interviewee, are we?" They are not.

Missy stands outside Buckler Academy with all the other students waiting for their rides.

"Missy!" Arlene yells as she pulls up in her well-used car.

"Where's your mom?" one of Missy's friends asks. Missy improvises.

"That's her assistant."

Missy climbs into Arlene's car and buckles up. It's a silent drive for a half-mile before Arlene tries to draw Missy out.

"Good day at school?" Arlene asks. Nothing. "Got a favorite subject? Any cute boys?"

"You will never be my mom," Missy says. "We don't have to pretend you are." That's to the point.