Scene 1: Flat Out No
Paige and Helen’s condo in Calgary, Alberta. There are signs of renovation underway. The kitchen space, however, is relatively intact and they sit having a drink with Trent, Helen’s buddy from university.
Trent drains his glass.
Trent: That tasted like another.
(to Helen) Grab you a cold one?
Helen: No, I’m good.
He holds up Helen’s glass, sniffs.
Trent: That’s not even beer. What’s in there?
Helen: Just club soda —
Trent: Club soda? That’s not the Helen Murphy I knew in our tree-planting days.
Paige: Is that right?
Trent: Drink me under the table, she could. Any man, woman, or beast in the tree-planting camp. Including the bush pilots.
Helen: Now let’s not exaggerate.
Trent: Oh ho! Don’t let this mild-mannered school-teacher persona she’s rocking now fool you.
He jerks his thumb at Helen.
Shotgun Helen they used to call her.
Helen: Trent?
Trent: Please don’t tell me we’ve lost another one. You in recovery?
Helen: No. I’m just . . . not drinking at the moment. Taking a break.
Trent: A break. Alrighty then.
He offers a drink to Paige, but she also shakes her head no.
Paige: And for how much longer are you in town?
Trent: Four days and counting, then it’s back to the sandbox.
He glances at his watch.
Speaking of which, I got to take a whiz and then I should head. Going to the mountains early tomorrow to get my ski on.
He leaves for the washroom.
Paige: Merde, just ask him.
Helen: I’m trying.
Paige: He’s “the one” you say. Why hesitate?
Helen: I’m working up to it.
Paige: If I must sit here drinking fizzy water until you pop the question, I’ll explode.
Helen: It’s not that easy —
Paige: He leaves tomorrow. Back to Dubai.
Helen: Doha.
Paige: Same thing.
Helen: Actually, no —
Paige: They’re both far. You know what I mean.
Helen: I don’t think I can do this. I better just write to him.
Paige: But you were waiting to ask him in person.
Helen: True.
Paige: You are being such a girl right now.
Helen: Being a girl — babe, I am a girl.
Paige: Do you want this or not?
Helen: You know I do, but it’s complicated. I think he might be seeing someone. He mentioned a woman’s name when I was taking off his coat.
Paige: A woman?
Helen: He’s always hard to pin down with these things.
Paige: But he’s supposed to be gay.
Helen: Supposed to be?
Paige: We agreed to ask him because he’s gay.
Helen: We agreed to ask him ’cause he’s my bestie — I never said he was gay.
Paige: But he has such great taste in clothes. His haircut, it’s misleading.
Helen: Women quite often think so, but no. Wait, are you saying he can’t be our donor because he’s straight? Because that would be reverse discrimination.
Paige: No —
Helen: We’d be bigots backward. Backward bigots.
Paige: I just think that you could have warned me.
Helen: How would that ever come up? Wait, that’s not a deal breaker, is it? Just because he isn’t?
Trent has come back from the bathroom and overhears the very last bit.
Trent: Isn’t what?
They jump, surprised that he’s back so quickly, and answer simultaneously:
Helen: Aries. / Paige: Gay.
Trent: Oh that.
Helen: Paige!
Trent: No worries, folks often assume —
Paige: Excuse me, I meant no —
Trent: I’...
