Sometimes my brain goes there.

A Love Story.

---

Gavin, do you love me?

No, I don't.

But why, after all we've been through!

No, can't say as I do.

Even after being through the monkey scourge, the time without oil, the terrible cloud formations, the victory over our neighbors, the times we've spent together?

You forget the time you burned the house down because you were angry.

But that was because you didn't do the dishes properly, and the rats were coming in.

You didn't tell me they had to be done right away, and I'd never done dishes before.

Certainly you were old enough.

Sure, right, think what you want.

I love you, you know, and so you should love me.

I don't.

Because of the dishes thing?

You burned down the house because I didn't do dishes properly when I was three years old.

Old enough to climb onto the kitchen counter to get a cookie, old enough to wash dishes, Curtis said.

Curtis was an idiot.

You shouldn't say things like that about your second stepdaddy.

A real peach, he was.

Yes, he had a way about him.

You're right about that.

And don't forget that time we went to Mexico and came back and got rich and visited Disney and had breakfast with Mickey; surely you love me for that!

I was 17, it was too late for Mickey.

Gavin, you are hard on me, I never wanted anything except for you to love me.

It's not going to happen, Mom.

Why not, Gavin?

Got to go, Mom, see you next week.

At least have them take off these restraints so I can hug you, my boy.

No, the last time I did you tried to stab me with a plastic fork.

I never did.

You did, last week.

You must have deserved it.

See you next week Mom.

GAVIN, come back.

Next week, Mom, like always.