People change when big things happen in their lives, they agree. Big things, Cathy dying, leaving her family behind, going elsewhere, all the boxes packed and labeled. He will change, when that happens. Big things. Maybe he'll decide to become a doctor. For a moment Amanda smiles behind her eyes and he leans forward. "I hope I get to meet him someday." He means it. Cathy offers to invite him to her funeral. It breaks.
Dr. Miller smiles and hands her the keys; she gives him the jacket and tells him to buy the house. Fill it up with kids. Fill it up with stuff. He wrinkles his nose; that's a discussion to be had with Julie. Cathy grins, a little sad. Back under glass.
"How come you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend when I was your girlfriend?"
The tank arrives on Marlene's doorstep and Adam roughly shoves it over the threshold. "Careful, you damn monkey! That's fragile!" A little glass world. Not a prison at all.
After practice Rugby Slut tells Paulie it's great to see him back on the field. She isn't really talking about rugby. He's a six on a good day and he doesn't hear it, but it's there. An early volley. She pushes harder, leaning forward. She has an awesome rack.
"It's great to be back," Paul snivels, smiling. "It's nice to know that I can still clot. Way to go, platelets..." It trails off; it is charming. Tina congratulates him on the fight with Sean, wriggling her ass. Completely unaware of the rest of the story; speaking from the other side of glass.
"There's always something so ... primal and ... sexy ... about two men fighting." Paul's internal computer stops working for a second; it hums and whirs. "Well? Violence is never the answer to anything..." But if Sean was right -- and Cathy's behavior seems to back it up -- then he is the lobster, now. "Unless you win," he says, a little sexier. And when she invites him for a beer after practice, he smiles and jerks his head sideways and decides to take this new life out for a spin.
The red convertible has a sign taped to its truck: GAS WHORE ON BOARD. Cathy shifts it, painfully, and heads to a storage space. It slides inside like it belongs there. On the hood, a greeting card: "Happy 18th Birthday ADAM!" A quick rethink, and she changes it to 30. Thirty-five years from retirement. She locks the door behind her; another box labeled for later, and heads out smiling into the summer rain. Another gift he doesn't know she's given him.