(Lights up on Isaac.)
ISAAC: Looking back on it now, I should have known she didn't have much time. I just shoulda known. I keep replaying that Easter Picnic in my head. The whole day. It was like we poisoned her. Just made her melt all away inside.
(Lights up as Elise joins him under the tree with a tray of sandwiches. Pastor Fudge is close behind.)
ELISE: I had to make ham salad because I ran out of everything else.
ISAAC: Mama you're working too hard. Don't worry so much you're gonna drive yourself crazy.
FUDGE: Son there's no point you know she loves to drive herself crazy.
ELISE: Oh hush up now Michael I just want a nice picnic.
FUDGE: It's a nice picnic Honey—How many people are gonna have to tell you before you want to listen to them?
ELISE: I want this to be my greatest one yet. It's gotta top all the others.
ISAAC: You'll just be saying the same thing next year.
FUDGE: And it still won't be good enough.
ELISE: That's not true. You don't have to be so cruel.
FUDGE: I'm not being cruel Elise I'm just trying to get you to see my dang point. You're putting all this pressure on yourself to make this one tiny day out of the year some monumental party. Just relax. It's your special day to shine and you're going to spoil it by sitting there in your feelings all day.
ELISE: The day of our Lord's resurrection is no tiny day.
FUDGE: But a jug of lemonade in our backyard does not a grand event make, Elise.
ISAAC: Mama, we're just saying it's okay to calm down.
ELISE: Isaac go get the serving utensil for these, would you?
ISAAC: I'll get it Mama. Please take a rest. Do you need some lemonade?
ELISE: No Isaac I don't need any dagum lemonade I need for these people to see that I still know how to throw a picnic, just like I have been doing all these years.
ISAAC: I don't think anybody doubts that. I'll be right back.
(He leaves; pause.)
FUDGE: Elise—
ELISE: I see how they look at me.
FUDGE: Who? Virginia Hickory? Sharon Kettering?
ELISE: They don't think I hear the whispers. They don't realize that their little game of telephone always gets back to me. I know full damn well that I know they don't see me as a good wife. Or mother.
FUDGE: But I do.
ELISE: No you don't Michael.
FUDGE: Sure I do. You take care of me and my son. You're a perfect little wife.
ELISE: (Pause.) Do you respect me or do you appreciate your caretaker?
FUDGE: Splitting hairs, Dear.
ELISE: I gave up my life for you.
FUDGE: You should give up your life for nobody but Christ.
ELISE: (Disbelief.) I had a job, Michael. A good one.
FUDGE: And what of it? You quit. That was all you, I never asked you to do that.
