Josh: Before you go, can I ask you for one thing?
Joan nods slowly and looks over her shoulder, grateful that she has positioned herself in the doorway. She takes one step back.
Josh: When you go back to Oregon will you send me those candies you always used to buy me? The ones with the orange and the chocolate and I always forget what they’re called…
Joan: Angelo’s Specialty Drops…sure.
Josh: And one more thing.
Joan: I don’t know Josh. I need to go.
Josh: One more thing Joan. Did you ever…never mind…
Joan: Bye Josh. Good luck.
Joan turns to leave.
Josh: Wait, don’t you want to hear what I was going to say?
Joan: No…I just told you…
Josh: But did you?
Joan: Did I what?
Josh: Don’t act like you didn’t…
Joan: I didn’t Josh. I pretended a lot…I told you.
Josh: Okay okay, but one last thing. When you send the candy, can you write me a note?
Joan: A note? No Josh, no notes, no candy. I’m not actually going to send you the candy.
Josh: A note with a small heart and maybe a quote that you know I like, like a love quote or maybe you can write that you love me. Pretending. We’ll only be pretending. Like we did for the last 9 months.
Joan looks directly into Josh’s feeble, pleading eyes. Contempt rises in her gut and she throws it up onto the floor, the panini she had for lunch. Her blessed last lunch ever with Josh.
Josh: Are you okay? I’ll go grab a towel.
Josh leaves to go grab a towel. When he comes back Joan is gone. She is on her way back to Oregon and she’s never going to buy Angelo’s Specialty Drops ever again.