A Day in the Wife of Avery Mann by David Christner
Lights come up in the parlor at Avery's wake. Since it is the
spirit of Avery Mann that appears in the play, there are moments in
which action is suspended when Avery speaks. At other times his
dialogue is used as a normal part of the scene. In neither case,
however, are the others characters ever aware of his physical presence
on the stage.
AVERY: Would it be overly dramatic of me to say that now begins the
beginning of the end, Act II, in this drama of one man's wife? From
what I've witnessed so far, probably not. But that's for you to
judge. It's clear to me that Marilyn is going to go through with
this—for want of a better word—inquisition of hers in her typical
academic fashion, leaving no stone unturned, no psyche unexplored.
She is, I think, looking for the truth that lies in the darkness
between the stars, if indeed anything lies there at all. In any case,
my life with her may turn out to be little more than a footnote on
some obscure page of her own dog-eared journal of existence.
Certainly, she was more than that in mine. (Pause.) I firmly believe
that people establish their own personal identity through their
meaningful relationships with other human beings. Our own uniqueness
then is a consequence of what we offer and receive from the many
people with whom we develop some kind of a significant relationship.
I know it's just a theory, but it worked well for me, if not for—all
of them.
On the word “them” the scene comes alive; the women on stage begin
sipping their drinks and nibbling on desserts. MARILYN is scribbling
something on a chalkboard. AVERY wanders about the room watching and
listening, but he does not intervene.
MARILYN: This isn't an inquisition, Winnie. I simply want to
discover for myself what it was about Avery that made him so cold and
emotionally distant.
ANGEL: How can you call him “cold and distant?” He was the warmest,
most compassionate man I ever met. Are you sure we're talking about
the same man?
MARILYN: That's just my point: I don't think we are talking about
the same man.
WINNIE: And she wants to know why.
AVERY: Academics never stop asking why. I often wonder why that is.
DANE: Avery wasn't cold. He could be distant, maintain his distance,
but I don't think I would call him cold. For the most part, I found
him to be a warm and compassionate friend.
ANGEL: Someone you could depend on.
DANE: Of course.
MARILYN: In a pinch, Angel? Could you depend on Avery in a pinch?
ANGEL: Depends on whether you mean a tight squeeze pinch, or a
passionate embrace pinch.
MARILYN: Isn't a tight squeeze a passionate embrace?
ANGEL: Oh, you're much too clever for me. Why don't you ask—that
angel over there? She was married to Avery before you—knew him or
decided that you didn't.
MARILYN: Connie, what do you say? Was Avery cold and distant?
KATE: You're—Connie, the Connie that was married to Avery?
CONNIE: A long time ago, I was, yes. I was married to Avery sometime
during the ice age, I think it was.
KATE: I was his—therapist.
CONNIE: Physical?
KATE: Psycho. I wasn't aware that Avery needed physical therapy.
CONNIE: Neither was I. In fact, I wasn't aware that he needed
psychotherapy.
KATE: Neither was he, until he gave it a try. Then I think he rather
enjoyed it. (A beat.) In any case, he told me all about you.
CONNIE: All about me?
KATE: A great deal. All he could recall, and was willing to share.
MARILYN: Which is far more than he told me. He didn't tell me
anything about her.
AVERY: Marilyn, we've been all through that.
MARILYN: Until he had to. Until I found out by accident! Then he
had to explain. For all I know he may have been married another time.
Does anybody know if Avery was married another time or not?
AVERY: I most certainly was not married another time. Okay, I was
engaged once, but I never saw any point in bringing that up,
especially after she found out about my marriage to Connie. Besides
she was engaged once before me too. It was no big deal.
MARILYN: I never hid the fact that I was engaged to someone before I
met Avery.
AVERY: I didn't care; what did that have to do with me? I could have
lived without that information; it wasn't vital.
MARILYN: I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't told him there
was someone else.
KATE: Someone who wasn't cold and distant?
MARILYN: No, he was—bold and distant, a hero, a casualty of the—war
in Vietnam.
KATE: I'm sorry. I didn't know that.
MARILYN: And Avery was a casualty of a conflict much closer to home.
WINNIE: So, Connie, tell us: Did you find Avery cold and distant?
CONNIE: It was years ago, of course, but at the time, I'd have to say
that Avery was—hot and distant, if you know what I mean.
AVERY: Oh, fine! Why don't you draw them a picture.
WINNIE: I think we can figure it out.
DANE: Speak for yourself. I'd like to hear more about it.
CONNIE: The hot or the distant?
DANE: Two guesses.
MARILYN: That's enough. We have work to do. (A beat.) Okay, let me
put that right here on the board for clarification and posterity.
That's one hot and distant, and one cold and distant. And, unless I'm
mistaken, there are a couple of warm and compassionates out there
somewhere.
ANGEL: Yes, warm and compassionate, I said that.
MARILYN: I know. And I'll add—good in the pinch, whatever that
entails. Does anybody else have anything to add at this point? (A
beat.) No? Okay, we'll go on with the—character assessment of Avery
Mann. (Looks to CONNIE.) Hot and distant, and yet—remote. That's
why you left—irreconcilable remoteness, right?
CONNIE: Yes, remoteness. That was his strong suit, but, I think he
had his reasons for keeping his distance.
GLORIA: You don't need to elaborate.
MARILHYN: Yes, she does.
AVERY: By all means! Let's strip away the veneer and get down to the
bare bones. Get the skeleton out of the closet.
CONNIE: Well, I loved Avery the way a young woman loves a young man,
probably more passionately than anything else, but it became clear to
me even as a young and not too wise woman, that there were tremendous
obstacles to overcome before he could or would become intimate with me
on anything other than a physical level. Before he would involve
himself with me emotionally.
MARILYN: What kind of obstacles?
CONNIE: I think he needed to—completely sever some—very close
family ties before he could establish any kind of intimacy with
another woman.
KATE: Another woman?
GLORIA: With me, Connie? Avery needed to sever those very close
kinds of ties with his mother? Why don't you go ahead and say it?
Tell them! Tell them the whole sordid story. Tell them how you
tricked Avery into marrying you and took him away from the only woman
who ever loved him. Tell them!
AVERY: Mom and Connie were never what you would call—close.
CONNIE: Don't start with that shit, Gloria! I'm sorry you lost your
son; I know what he meant to you, but don't start on me, not now, not
again after 25 years.
GLORIA: It's the furthest thing from my mind, dear Connie. Of
course, you're right, after all these years, years that incidentally
have been very kind to you. Why you don't look a day older than any
of the rest of Avery's friends, except for Angel. In fact, you don't
even look any older than Avery, and god knows you are older than
Avery, even if nobody else does.
DANE: Could I get you a drink, Gloria?
GLORIA: Yes, please, by all means. Gin. And get one for my friend
Connie too, something cheap.
CONNIE: I'm pleased to see how the years have softened you, Gloria.
Some people turn hard and cynical with time. Not you. You haven't
changed a bit. The same sweet Gloria of the Neanderthal period.
AVERY: I don't think we've got to worry about anything being left
unsaid in this conversation.
CONNIE: Do you really know why Avery married me, Gloria? Aside from
the fact that he was crazy about me.
GLORIA: Of course, I know dear. I've always known. Because you
seduced him; it was always crystal clear to me. Why else would he
gotten involved with a—woman like you? A woman who hustled drinks
and god only know what else for a living.
CONNIE: I didn't hustle drinks! I served drinks in a cocktail lounge
to pay my way through school. We didn't all have loving mothers to
provide us with everything and protect us from the world.
GLORIOA: Of course not. Some of us had men to do that. (A beat.)
You were about to tell me why Avery married you. I'd like to hear
that, provided of course that I get equal air time to respond.
KATE: Maybe we should—just relax a while and continue this
discussion in another decade or so.
MARILYN: No! Go on. I think maybe we should go on and bury the past
along with Avery. But we need to know what it is that we're burying.
CONNIE: I'll tell you why, Gloria, remind you why he married me, in
case your memory is failing in your advanced years. Because you
wouldn't leave him alone; you refused to let him have a life of his
own. You had to be the center of his life, because he was the center
of yours. You smothered him with your attention after you ran his
father off.
GLORIA: That's a lie! (A beat.) Connie was older than Avery, you
see; he was hardly more than a boy really, a freshman, when he met
this “older” woman, who knew very well the way to a man's—heart. She
seduced him, and Avery felt an obligation to marry her. That's all
there was to it! There was never any love, not for you, anyway! He
was just too young to know the difference between what he felt in his
heart and what he felt in his groin. Men are like that. He would
have learned in time, however, that while the soft place in his heart
would grow harder, the hard place in his groin would grow softer. And
he would have left you, if given the chance.
CONNIE: You're just irritated, Gloria, because Avery never felt
either one of those things for you!
GLORIA: I won't even dignify such a preposterous accusation with a
response.
CONNIE: And you didn't love him either; all you wanted was to control
him. Is it any wonder he fell for me? He would have fallen for any
woman on earth that got him away from you!
GLORIA: So he fell for a bar room slut! Is that what you're telling
me?
CONNIE: I'm telling you the truth!
GLORIA: Which is exactly what I'm telling you!
AVERY: Funny thing—the truth. I will say this about it though—as
often as not, it hurts. And that's the truth.
CONNIE: I'm sorry, Marilyn. I shouldn't have stayed. When I first
saw her, I thought maybe things would be different, but they're not.
It's the same, and it doesn't make any more sense now than it did
then. I have to go. I won't stand here and fight this pointless
battle all over again.
CONNIE exits.
AVERY: Mother was never one to forgive and forget.
KATE: Looks like you just lost a piece of your puzzle.
MARILYN: But not without making an important discovery.
WINNIE: What discovery?
MARILYN: I think I discovered what it was that Connie gave Avery.
KATE: Other than sex?
MARILYN: Yes. I think that I discovered what she gave him other than
sex.
GLORIA: And what might that be?
MARILYN: A way out.
GLORIA stares at her savagely for a long moment, then wheels around
abruptly and storms out.
GLORIA: I know my way out, and you needn't bother staying in touch.
AVERY: What she means by that is: Don't ever speak to her again, but
she doesn't mean it.
AMY suddenly rushes into the room.
AMY: Mom, what on earth is going on? First, that—Connie person—
AVERY: Parsons. Connie Parsons Mann, if the truth be known.
AMY (continuing):—comes rushing out all in tears. Then Nanny flies
in and heads for the gin.
MARILYN: It's a long story, one you'd probably be better off not
hearing. Suffice to say, however, that Nanny and Connie
aren't—getting on.
GREGORY enters.
GREGORY: Nanny wants me to drive her home; she's into the gin.
MARILYN: Go ahead. You go with them Amy.
AMY: Why?
AVERY: She gets that from her mother.
MARILYN: In case he needs a hand with her. You know how she gets.
(A beat.) Please. And tell her that I didn't mean what I said.
AMY: What did you say?
MARILYN: Ask her.
AMY: She won't tell me.
MARILYN: I know, but tell her I didn't mean it anyway.
AMY: All right. I'll see you later. (To the others.) It was a
pleasure to meet all of you—ladies. I know Dad must have—
MARILYN: Amy.
AMY: What?
MARILYN: Never mind. They know what you mean, even if you don't.
WINNIE: Yes, we know, even if he didn't.
AMY: Okay, thanks.
As AMY exits, DANE enter, carrying drinks for the now departed,
GLORIA and CONNIE
DANE: Well, I guess they won't be needing these. Anybody?
MARILYN: I'll take one.
KATE: And I'll take the other. Wouldn't want it to go to waste.
DANE: So you'll have it go to your waist instead.
KATE: Or thighs or hips; I'm not particular. I'm way past the point
of worrying about maintaining my schoolgirl figure. Unlike some of
us.
DANE: Some of us practically are still schoolgirls.
KATE: Only one of us and it obviously isn't you.
DANE: Or you.
KATE: Thank you, dear. I thought you'd never notice.
MARILYN Angel, you're not drinking?
ANGEL: No, I'm not.
WINNIE: What she wants to know, Angel, is why you're not drinking.
DANE: She wants us all to drink, Angel; she's wants to loosen our
tongues. Loose lips drop slips or something like that.
ANGEL: When you work in—my kind of position, it's not a good idea to
drink.
WINNIE: I think it's always a good idea to drink, especially in a
cocktail lounge. Avery must have been a bad influence, not drinking
anything but soda water with a twist of women.
MARILYN: Lemon!
WINNIE: Of course, lemon. Did I say—
KATE: Yes, women. Soda water with a twist of women.
WINNIE: Yes, well . . . here we are.
SILENCE.
DANE: Yes, we're here all right, all of us—sisters, the lemon
sisters. Or maybe the twist of lemon sisters.
WINNIE: Or sisters-in-law. What do you say, Marilyn? Are we sisters
or not?
MARILYN: I don't know if we're sisters or not, but I do know—(She
gulps down the rest of her drink.)—that I'm beginning to feel much
better.
KATE: Valium?
MARILYN: Gin.
MARILYN looks at her empty glass for a moment then throws it against
the mantle where it shatters.
AVERY: Oh, fine! Why don't you just shatter the entire evening?
MARILYN: There. Now I've shattered the illusions of my marriage and
my life with Avery. It's time to pick up the pieces. To get on with
my life as a therapist would undoubtedly put it. (A beat.) I feel
better now; Avery bought me that crystal.
AVERY: That's the Waterford?
ANGEL: I think I'll be going.
MARILYN: You stay right where you are! Don't move a muscle; don't
even flinch. (A beat.) We need you here. Avery needs you.
WINNIE: Avery is dead, Marilyn.
DANE: And damned lucky to be so from what I can tell.
MARILYN: Angel, sit down please. And have a drink. Somebody get
Angel a drink; get us all a drink.
WINNIE: I know my way around. I'll go.
KATE: I'll take scotch.
WINNIE: Gin. I only do gin.
KATE: Gin then.
MARILYN goes over and sits down beside ANGEL. AVERY takes a seat on
the opposite side of ANGEL and puts his arm around her protectively.
MARILYN: Angel? Is that your real name or some sort of an
affectionate nickname?
ANGEL: My real name.
MARILYN: And Atkins? Yours? Your maiden name or the surname of your
former husband?
AVERY: It doesn't matter. Leave her alone, Marilyn.
DANE: Marilyn, you're being awfully inquisitive.
MARILYN: It's my nature, my—profession, in fact. To seek the truth.
(A beat.) Angel?
ANGEL: Atkins was my former husband's name. (A beat.) I guess you
want to know my maiden name now.
MARILYN: Of course. My next question. You're getting very good.
ANGEL: Brady. Angel Brady. Anything else?
MARILYN: Well, I don't really know. Is there any other pertinent
information to be gathered at this point? Anybody?
KATE: Children? What about children?
MARILYN: Of course, children. How could I forget the children? I
have some of my own. Amy and Gregory, you must have seen them.
ANGEL: Yes, I saw them. They are very handsome children.
MARILYN: Like yours? Do you have handsome children, Angel?
ANGEL: Just a son and I'd call him cute rather than handsome.
KATE: Handsome comes later. They all start out cute.
DANE: Yes, like puppies. They're all cute when they're little. Then
they become big handsome brawling studs.
MARILYN: Does he have a name? This now cute but soon to be handsome
little son of yours.
ANGEL: No, no name. I just call him, “Boy.”
DANE: And he calls you, “Jane,” I'll bet.
ANGEL: How much?
DANE: Never mind. I don't really want to bet; it was just an
expression.
MARILYN: Angel, you're not being honest with your sisters.
AVERY: You don't have to tell her anything, Angel. She's used to me
not telling her anything. Besides, I kinda like, “Boy.” Has a nice
masculine ring to it.
ANGEL: Avery. I call my son, Avery.
AVERY: Perfect! That's exactly what I would have told her.
MARILYN: Avery! Now that is what I call interesting. Isn't that
interesting? Kate? Dane?
DANE: Why yes, I find that very interesting.
KATE: Maybe it's just a coincidence.
DANE: Maybe it's not. Maybe it's by design.
WINNIE enters with a tray of drinks.
MARILYN: Winnie, thank god you're here with the drinks. Pass them
around and hold on to your hat because in your absence, we just made
the most startling discovery, the most startling discovery, I suppose,
since Columbus discovered America or the West Indies or Jamaica or
whatever the hell it was that he discovered when he discovered it.
WINNIE: Really?
MARILYN: I'll say. But, I'll let Angel tell you all about it because
it's—her baby. (A beat.) Go ahead, Angel.
ANGEL: I just told Mrs. Mann—
MARILYN: Marilyn, please. We are sisters, after all.
ANGEL: Of course, sisters, I almost forgot. Anyway, I just told—
Marilyn, that I call my son—Avery.
WINNIE: Avery! My god! Not after our, that is her Avery.
ANGEL: Do you know any other Averys?
WINNIE: No, do you?