INT. GARLAND HOUSE - ENCLOSED PORCH - A LITTLE LATER
Henry and Bellamy are on the porch. Harold looks out over
the yard, a bit shell-shocked—
It was 31 years ago as of August
My son. He drowned. He was playing
down by the river behind the woods.
Fell in. His aunt Barbara-- my
brother's wife-- went in to save
him. Neither made it.
Bellamy is respectful even though he feels he's being played
I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Langston.
But what does that have to do with
that boy in there?
Henry turns, looks at him. Bellamy smiles, realizing what
he's getting at—
You're not saying... Mr. Langston,
you don't expect me to believe that
Henry gives him a slight smile—
Well, now, Mr. Martin Bellamy. What
you believe or don't believe is none
of my business, is it?
Bellamy reacts. Henry notices-- Lucille, getting up from
her chair in the kitchen. He heads inside—
INT. GARLAND HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Jacob sits and plays with Bellamy's phone. He senses someone
above him, looks up at-- Lucille, standing there. She's
nervous, cautious. Henry's behind her, holding her arm,
worried about her.
Bellamy's behind them, watching.
Jacob looks back at his game. Lucille kneels, slowly reaches
out to touch his hair, still scared, tears welling up in her
eyes. But she stops just short of touching him. She can't.
She's just not ready.
Jacob turns, locks eyes with her. They each take the other
in for the first time. Jacob now recognizes her—
You look different.
She smiles involuntarily. And in that smile, the ice is
broken. As if her body is telling her what her brain can't
accept, yet: it's him. She suddenly embraces him, kissing
his head hard all over, tears streaming down her face—
She pulls his head into her bosom, rocking him, plunging
into this impossible dream. A dream she'd rather stay in
forever than wake up in a reality without her beloved child.
Bellamy watches, stunned.