by
Sabine Clement
(pierre [at] hhipe.uia.ac.be)
The living room.
Fran and Val are glued to the door.
"Ooh, there he is!" Fran says in excitement.
"Where, where?" Val asks, jumping up and down.
"There, just passing that limo now! Ooooh - would you look at his bum?"
"Wow, Fran, you were right: this guy is gorgeous!"
Maxwell walks in from the hallway. He stops dead when he hears both women exclaiming in ecstasy.
"Aw, aw, he's coming, he's coming! He's walking to the door!"
"Oh Fran, you're so lucky! You'd think he'd bring you something this time?"
"He sure did!" Fran replies with a big smile. She opens the door, bends over, picks up something and closes the door again.
Val clutches her hand to her chest and sighs.
"Oh, look at him go..."
"Yeah..." Fran agrees.
"Miss Fine..."
Both women turn around instantly.
"Miss Fine, would you care to tell me what that was all about?"
"Er... nothing, Mister Sheffield. Here, I picked up your mail," she says, hands him some envelopes and dashes off, muttering something about checking on the kids.
Maxwell stays behind.
Maxwell's office
He's sitting behind his desk, tapping his pen on the surface.
Niles comes in, duster in hands. He walks towards the desk and looks at Maxwell. He doesn't say a word.
"What?!" Maxwell exclaims after a couple of seconds. "Don't you have some work to do?"
"Oh, but I am working, Sir."
"Oh?"
"I'm fully functional as a sound-board right now as we speak, Sir."
Maxwell throws his pen on the desk and heaves an angry sigh.
"Oh, I don't know, Niles. I find Miss Fine's behaviour very confusing."
"Uh-huh," Niles nods.
"One moment, she's looking at me with these big, dark eyes... God, she could make me do almost anything she wants then..." he trails off.
"Yes?"
"And the next moment, she's flirting with another man, like I don't exist..." he goes on, frustrated.
"Jealous, Sir?"
"Yes, for heaven's sake! I mean: she does know what I feel for her, right?"
"Oh, I couldn't possibly say - have you actually ever told her what it is that you feel then, Sir?"
"What on earth...?!" Maxwell starts, but then he realizes this direction would lead nowhere at all. "Well, for your information: yes, I have."
"Uh-hmm... Without taking it back?"
Maxwell looks uneasily at the floor.
"The thing is: I'm not that good with... talking... really..." he confesses.
"Then write her a letter, say it with flowers, get Sylvia and Morty a condominium in Boca... Just find a way to get through to her. Sir."
Niles exits, leaving Maxwell to figure out the rest for himself.
"Niles may have a point," the Broadway producer thinks. He leans back in his chair and places his hands in his neck, mulling over his butler's remarks.
"I should be able to find a way to tell Miss Fine - Fran - how I feel. I'm a grown man, for God's sake, not some trembling, inexperienced schoolboy! Now, let's see... What could I do for her... Should be something special. Something personal. Something me. Which rules out the talking... Now what am I really good at?"
Maxwell has dragged Fran all the way to the theater. She doesn't know why, and the fact that he doesn't tell her a thing, makes her very suspicious. We see them both entering the hall now, which is actually the Nanny set. They look down upon the living room. Fran is completely confused, and turns around to get an explanation. But to her surprise, Maxwell is no longer standing next to her...
The lights dim, and music starts to play.
"Mister Sheffield...?"
The curtains open. She hears someone clear his throat, but no one is to be seen.
"Mister Sheffield, are you there??"
All of a sudden, he appears on the stage. Before Fran can utter a single word, he opens his arms wide and starts to sing, hesitantly.
| "When I don't know what to say I'd rather walk away. No point asking me to stay I'd switch the subject anyway." |
She is just staring at him, as he has slowly walked to the edge of the stage. He stands right in front of Fran, gaining confidence.
| "When I don't know what to say I know I've lost another day. So I ask and hope and pray You will join me in this play." |
He holds out his hand towards her. She comes closer, her eyes focused on his. He grabs her hand and pulls her on the stage. For a moment, they're very close to one another.
"Oh, Mister Sheffield, is there something you want to say?" she whispers.
He smiles, and pulls her into the dance.
"There's a whole lot I want to tell you, Miss Fine. There's a lot you need to know. There's a lot I need to know."
The music dies away. He leads her to the sofa and looks at her dead serious.
"You see, I don't know... well, you know... What I want to know..."
He gets up, starts pacing.
| "Like all British I have trouble dealing with these emotions inside of me I tend to hide that what I'm feeling instead of letting it all free. And yet, despite my reservations I'm sure you know how I feel about you. So the fact that I asked you for some patience Doesn't allow you to do what you do. 'Cause once again, I saw you flirting To other men - oh it's plain to see Well, I assure you that it's hurting... So why are you doing this to me?" |
Fran has walked over to the door, as if she's trying to hide. She looks very small. The atmosphere is becoming tense, and very personal. The sound of wind is heard in the distance, and someone must have turned on a ventilator.
"Tell me why you are doing this," Maxwell whispers.
The wind is gaining force.
"Errrr....."
All of a sudden, the thunder clashes and Sylvia comes in. Maxwell's eyes cloud. Why does this woman always have to come in at the most inconvenient times?
"Ah, there you are, the kids told me I could find you here...." Sylvia greets her daughter.
"Maaaaa!" Fran says, really annoyed, and yet secretly a little relieved. Maxwell's accusations were hard to face.
"Frannie, you look so pale. Here, put on some make-up. And..."
She looks at Fran from head to toe and doesn't approve of what she sees.
Sylvia:
| "Oh honey, is this how you dress? The rule with clothes is: more is less!" |
Fran:
| "Ma, don't tell me what to wear!" |
Sylvia:
| "Darling, there's single men out there!" "Oh, sweetheart, do I see this right? Your hair ain't got the appropriate height!" |
Fran:
| "Ma, ouch, now let go of my hair!" |
Sylvia:
| "Darling, there's single men out there!" "Honey, I hate to see you alone You're my daughter, my flesh and bone!" |
Fran:
| "Oh, ma, I know you care..." |
Sylvia:
| "Darling, there's single men out there!" "Good - so be ready at eight I will fix you up with a date" |
Fran:
| "Ma, no, now don't you dare!" |
Sylvia:
| "Darling, there's single men out there!" "Okay, alright, if you wanna be dumb... (Here, feel this, is this a lump?)" |
Fran:
| "Ma, stop playing it so unfair! |
Sylvia:
| "Darling, there's single men out there!" |
"Okay, this is it, cut it out! Stop telling me what to do! It's my life we're talking about here, and I have a say in it as well!" Fran yells.
And she goes on, accompanied by a seventies disco beat:
| "I know what's good for me - yes I do. I know what's best for me - you know I do I know what's right for me - yes I do I can be by myself - yes I can I can do what I want - you know I can I can do things myself - I have two hands You're pushing all the time - please go away Stop forcing me to do the things you say You just can't stop until you get your way You tell me what to think and what to wear You tell me how to dress and do my hair You tell me all the things that I should do Now don't you see what this is leading to... I know what's good for me - yes I do I know what's best for me - you know I do I know who's right for me - yes I do..." |
"Okay, fine, I get the message. Have it your way. But until I see a ring on that finger, you're no longer my daughter!"
Sylvia runs out, fuming. The thunder clashes one last time. The sound of rain dies out, and the set lights brighten.
Maxwell, who'd been standing at the other side of the set, walks over to Fran.
"Well, er, I think I see the reason now..." he says, rubbing his hands.
"Oh, Mister Sheffield, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize it was that bad. It won't happen again..."
"So no more stockbrokers, lawyers, undertakers?"
She shakes her head.
"No more doctors, no more cantors or professors?"
"Nope."
"No hockey players, no podiatrists, no police officers..."
"Never again. Only...."
"Only what?"
"Weeelllll, how about producers?"
"Well, Miss Fine..."
"You see, there's this really great-looking guy, charming, caring..."
Maxwell smiles uneasily.
"Only, he has this one, big flaw."
"Oh?" Maxwell says in surprise.
"Uh-huh - he's afraid of COM-MIT-MENT!"
Maxwell blushes.
"Ya know something, you're slowly driving me crazy. All through the years, we get more attached to one another, but it's a weird dance. Two steps closer, one step back. You tell me you love me, then take it back. You tell me you want me, then turn your back. Makin' me wanna leave ya, to neva come back..."
(A drum vibrates on every back.)
She sighs.
"But I can't... And so, I keep waiting for you, hoping, praying, day after day, night after night..."
A lonely violin starts playing in the distance.
Fran:
| All thru the night - ev'ry night I clutch the blankets, hold them tight And wha'd ya know: it doesn't feel right I'm about to walk out, get the next flight. |
"So you can't sleep either, hmm?" Maxwell asks, and strikes his hand over his chin - considering this option.
"I have the same problem..."
Maxwell:
| All through the night - every night. I lie awake in the city's bright light Struggling with this fight inside Thinking about what could, what might... |
Fran:
| All thru the night - ev'ry night I lie awake, my eyes open wide Why are you scared to have yourself tied? Is it doubt about me, the kids or your pride? |
Maxwell:
| All through the night - every night I tell myself: love can't be denied And I know, soon I'll have to decide For I cannot hide who I want by my side. |
He looks at her, and whispers:
"You're the one I want by my side, Fran. I know that now, and I want you to know it too..."
He takes her hand, and they slowly walk off the stage, not paying attention to anything but the other one.
The lights dim.
Act Two
The front door opens to the stage, and CC peeps in.
"Maxwell?" she asks, and then louder: "Max-weeell??"
She comes in now, and Niles follows her. She turns towards him, places her hands in her side, and sends him an accusing look.
"This isn't funny, you know. I already had trouble believing you when you said Maxwell was at the theater! There's no reason at all why he should be here... I fail to see the humour of this."
"Hmmm... Just wait and see..."
Now she starts looking suspicious.
"Come on, Niles - spill it. Is Maxwell here or not?"
"Ooh, I suspect he is. Check the other sets. The one with the bedroom, for example..."
It slowly dawns upon her.
CC:
| Don't tell me he is here with that maid?! (groan) What he sees in her, I have no idea Oh, why did he never come to date... someone sophisticated like me? |
Niles:
| It is not sophistication he needs No, he should laugh, have some true fun And you, my dear, oh, my heart bleeds But smiling is something you've never done |
CC:
| I'm not your dear, you little troll! Now stop playing tricks with my frail mind! Just crawl back in your little hole, Under the ground, with your own kind. |
Niles:
| You yell and spit, but you're not sincere You pretend to loathe me for I'm not rich Yet somehow you like me, now don't you dear? Or would you rather be called 'my little witch'? |
CC:
| You trollop, you dustbin, you serving swine Now cut out this game, you just can't win! Now, for your interest: you'll never be mine For it's Maxwell who I'm still interested in. |
Niles:
| Oh, come to your senses, open your eyes Switch those grey cells back on line Don't tell me you still don't realize He only has the hots for Miss Fine |
CC:
| Oh, silly me, you're just making me wait While immediate action is what we need here Please, God, don't let me be too late... Please don't give in to my greatest fear... |
And she runs off, through the front door.
"Where's she off to?" Niles wonders. "The bedroom is the other way 'round..."
He hears the engine of the car running, and tires squeal over the asphalt.
Then he realizes:
| "She'll call in the troops, she wants to solve this by force! Ah, think quick man, my kingdom for a steel horse! I'd better get my soldiers, before things get worse, before this demonic woman spells out any curse... |
And he crawls on a gigantic motorbike and disappears in a cloud of smoke.
Act Three
Fran and Maxwell are sitting on his bed. He's kissing her passionately, and she gives in, willingly. Then he suddenly pulls away.
"No, not again!" Fran calls. "I've seen this one too many times!"
"No, no, that's not it. I... I just thought: before we go any further, I better say everything I have to say. You know, to let it all out, for once and for all. To make sure that all misunderstanding and doubt can be left behind."
Fran looks disappointed at first, but she realizes that Maxwell's words actually make sense. A lot of sense.
"Guess you're right," she says. "It's good to vent. So, vent!"
Maxwell:
| You ask me where my doubts come from... Well, when Sarah died, my kids lost their mom So I thought that if I never got another There'd be no risk losing a second mother But they love you already, so it's no use I can no longer name the kids as excuse For if you'd leave, they'd be so lost So I'd better keep you, at all cost |
He smiles at that, then continues.
| But then there's more that kept me pacing Something that was tougher facing For we so different, you and I You're so outspoken, I'm rather shy You're spontaneous, sometimes even brash You're colourful, you flash, you dash You laugh, you tease, always in for a joke Compared to you I am such a dull bloke You are who you are, never unreal Always frank about the way you feel So I can't say why you'd want to stay With this stuffed-up shirt, so bleak and grey So what I fear most about our relation: Will it live up to our expectation? The combination of a man filled with ration and a beautiful woman, so full of passion... |
He sighs deeply.
| And yet, when I look deep inside There is a love that can't be denied I do want you to be part of my life, So Fran, I ask you: be my wife... |
Before she can say anything, CC, Maxwell's mother, Niles, Sylvia, Nigel, Yetta and the children all tumble in, shouting through one another.
CC:
| See, here they are, just like I said! |
Max's mother:
| Son, get this woman out of your bed! |
Maxwell:
| Mother, don't bother, I do love Miss Fine For your interest: I want her to be mine Forever and always, no more, no less... |
Fran:
| Then all hear my answer: yes yes YES! (but her voice is drowned by the others...) |
Niles:
| Oh good, we won! He did finally ask A beautiful ending to my year-long task |
Nigel:
| Well, Max, I guess congratulations are due And I must add, big brother: I do envy you |
Yetta:
| Now wait a minute here - who's getting married to who??? |
Sylvia:
| Fran to Mister Sheffield, Ma - it's a dream comin' true! |
Yetta:
| Are you kiddin' me! They're married already! |
Sylvia:
| Oy, Ma, don't be such a schmegeggy... |
Gracie:
| Daddy's marrying Fran! Daddy's marrying Fran! |
Brighton:
| Gee, you know: you surprise me, old man! |
Maggie:
| Fran, that's so cool! Though we knew all along... |
Max's mother:
| Son, this charade has gone on for too long All of us know you're such a big tease... |
Maxwell:
| Mother, it's my life, I'll do as I please! Fran is the one I want to be married to |
Fran:
| Then please hear my answer - Maxwell, I do! |
Again, Fran's voice isn't heard, as things turn really chaotic. Maxwell's mother is furious, while Nigel tries to talk some sense into her. Sylvia attacks a large platter of chicken drums. CC just looses all sense of sensibility and jumps upon Fran, in a final attempt to get rid of her rival. Niles tries to pull her away, encouraged by Brighton, but it's Sylvia who knocks the blonde out with a particularly large chicken drum. Gracie gets completely upset and starts yelling in a very high pitch. On top of all this, various instruments are playing various melodies, and the stage lights seem to have attained a mind of their own. Maxwell climbs on the bed and tries to locate Fran.
Maxwell:
| Now I want everyone out of here!! Out, OUT!! LEAVE US ALONE!! |
Fran is on her way to Maxwell's door, tip-toeing through the hall, dressed in a silk night gown, when she hears him shouting.
"What on earth...?" she wonders, and knocks on his door.
No answer.
She opens the door, and peeps through.
"Mister Sheffield?"
"LEAVE US ALONE!"
"Oh, okay," she says, closing the door again. Then she stops dead and frowns. Her eyes shoot fire.
"Who, US?!?" she says, and smashes open the door.
She sees Maxwell fighting with his blankets in the moonlight, and runs over. Only then she realizes that he's dreaming, and the fury leaves her eyes at once.
"Niles, get them out of here! I want some privacy with Fran!"
Her eyes open wide. "Well, ready when you are, baby!"
She shakes him thoroughly, thinking that now's as good a time as ever to wake him.
His arms flail wildly, then he suddenly bolts upright, blinking.
"Fran? Are they gone?!" he asks her, face in terror.
Then he looks around, and doesn't see anyone. Anyone but her. And he relaxes.
"Ah good," he sighs relieved. "So, what do you answer?"
"Answer...? Do I need a password to get in here?"
He looks at her, question marks in his eyes. Then he realizes it's dark, he's wearing pajama's, and there are no stage lights or seats placed in front of his bedroom. His bedroom...
"Boy, you must have had a really bad dream!" she says.
"Yes, yes, that's it! A dream... God, it was weird. CC, Niles, my mother... You were in there too, singing... What a nightmare!"
"Thanks..." Fran says, pulling an ugly face.
"No, no, that's not what I meant..." he says, coming slowly to his senses.
"Anyway, what are you doing here?" he asks her.
"Like you don't know..." she answers teasingly.
He pulls an eyebrow.
"Still not back in the real world, are we?" she laughs. "Weeeelll, let me refresh your memory. There I was, getting ready for bed. And there, on my make-up table, what do I find?"
He looks at her, not comprehending.
"Oh, Mister Sheffield, it was the most beautiful thing I've ever read... So vulnerable. So honest. So loving..." she whispers.
He still doesn't get it.
"What are you talking about?"
"This," she says, and digs up an envelope. "I'd recognize your handwriting anywhere, Mister!"
His eyes open wide.
"But, but - how..." he stammers.
How had she gotten hold of his poem? He'd hidden it, hadn't he.......? Niles....... He shakes his head. He'd have to have a word with that butler of his. He looks up again, and lays eyes upon the woman of his dreams. Only this time, she was very real, sitting on the side of his bed.
Then, he suddenly brightens. Good old Niles. The old man had done the right thing. He, Maxwell Sheffield, had chickened out again. For hours he had been thinking about a way to tell his deepest feelings to Fran. Thrown away one ridiculous idea after the other. Facing all his fears, his doubts, his hopes, his dreams. Until he'd found those lyrics... Well, he'd better not spoil it this time.
Fran, oblivious of his train of thought, opens the envelope, unfolds the piece of paper and starts reading out loud:
| Lackluster me stands before you. What can I be to make you want me? All I have I give to you It's all I need to get me through. Lackluster me - there, I said it Oh, you could break me Oh, don't you get it. All I have I give to you You're all I need to pull me through |
And he finishes:
| All this to say that I love you You're all I want Would you want me too? |
"Of course I want you, Maxwell Sheffield. You just have to ask me properly..."
He pulls her closer and kisses her.
"Now - see how simple that is? I'm a simple girl, with simple taste - I don't need no big production..."
The End
Acknowledgements:
The lyrics starting with "I know what's good for me, yes I do" are almost literally taken from the song "Butt Out" written by Paul and Lauren Waaktaar-Savoy of the band Savoy. The same goes for "Lackluster Me". I made a few adaptations to both song texts, but the true credits should go to these fine people. Both original versions can be found on the album "Lackluster Me".
Paul Waaktaar is an intelligent, shy European, who became rich in showbiz (for he's an excellent musician and songwriter). He fell in love with this brash, talkative, Jewish American woman: Lauren Savoy. The rather timid Paul secured himself a place in her heart by writing her numerous letters, poems and love songs. They are now happily married, and currently reside in New York. And that, dear readers, is why it sorta seemed a logical choice to have Maxwell pick one of Paul's songs... or so I thought!
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