Here. You want a pill?
Jeanie, be there.
Disappointed?
I know you wanted
a place of your own.
It's OK, Mom.
We sort of had one.
Sam wants me.
It's not that.
He'd like me to stay.
What happened?
I couldn't move my robe
in there.
The place was too nice
for my robe.
Annie left the hospital.
We don't know where she is.
She'll be back.
I don't know.
You want a ride?
Are you going
to North Hollywood?
Are we going to North Hollywood?
Yeah.
Let's go to North Hollywood.
You sure you're going that way?
Sure.
Hi.
I'm Daryl.
This is my wife... Bert.
Oh, yeah?
You think that's a strange name?
It's strange.
Here. Hold this.
Watch your driving.
Crab onto that.
Here. Crab the wheel.
You guys are weird.
Did you hear that?
Why are you so uptight?
We like you.
Why don't you relax?
I gotta get to Jeanie's.
Who's she?
Come on. Relax.
The Beast with Five Fingers.
Want to turn up the IVs?
Don't...
Those are Jeanie's pants.
- No. It's OK.
- Pressure's dropped.
Pressure's dropped, huh?
She's going out of it here.
- Turn up the IV.
- All right.
Take it easy. It'll be OK.
Slow that down a bit.
That's good. That's good.
She's spitting up blood.
We've lost her.
We gotta wake up Annie.
You sure piss me off
sometimes, Annie.
I can't go on without you all!
How does it feel,
married woman?
- I'm terrified!
- You hear that?
- Buh-bye!
- Good-bye, everybody.
Bye! Dad!
Here we go!
I'll come out later, OK?
Where are you going?
We're going to Stan's.
Some real heavy family stuff.
Otherwise,
I'd go with you now, really.
- OK.
- Bye, Mary.
Bye.
You want me to drive
up there with you?
If you want.
If you want.
I don't want to tell you
that you can't.
Tell me the truth.
My Cod, you're on your way
to college.
You'll be on your own.
The least we can do
is be honest at this point.
I don't know.
Things get so complicated.
We'd be better off...
if we didn't call each other
mother and daughter.
I'd rather go alone.
That's the truth.
I like calling you Mom. OK?
I know the subject
doesn't come up too often.
We never really get the chance
to talk about it...
but I really love you.
I love you, too, darling.
Back in the heavy stone days...
when we used to stay up
and talk a lot, Annie and me...
we were talking about dying,
how it feels and all.
I said I'd never get buried.
I couldn't stand them
shoveling dirt in my face.
I'd know I'd be dead,
but I still might have...
this strong compulsion
to breathe, OK?
But Annie, she said
she wanted to be buried...
right in the ground
under a pear tree.
Really.
Not in a box or anything.
She said she wanted the roots
going right through her...
and each year, we'd come along,
take a pear and go...
"Hey, Annie's tasting good
this year, huh?"