Souffle

CHARACTERS                                                                     TIME                                                        

MARIE                                                                                   The present

JIM                                                                                         Saturday evening

WAITRESS

CHEF 


[The small dining room of an upscale country inn.  The door to the kitchen is to the left.  An archway leading to the lobby, the restrooms, and the stairs up to the rooms is upstage to the right.  Only one table is occupied, by MARIE and JIM.  She's about 30, upper middle-class, attractive, girly.   He's a few years older, easy-going, reasonably attractive but not too secure about it.   A couple of other tables appear to have been occupied earlier and are now cleared.  Still others might have been empty all evening.  MARIE and JIM's table has mostly been cleared of  their main course as they look at the dessert menu.  WAITRESS, about the same age as Jim, working-class, a little chunky,  is removing the last few items.]


JIM

Ok.  The Dom Perignon, and the chocolate souffle'.


WAITRESS

Of course, Sir.  I'll see to it right away.


[WAITRESS  takes the dessert menus and exits to the left with the last items from the table.]


JIM

D’you mind if I  use the men's room.  

MARIE

Oh Jim, Honey, of course I don’t mind.


JIM

Be right back.


[As JIM gets up, MARIE leans over and purses her lips, expecting a kiss.  JIM begins to head toward the upstage exit into the lobby, realizes what Marie expects, backtracks, and gives her the expected kiss.]


MARIE

Don't be long!


JIM

Of course not.


[JIM exits with MARIE waving and making kissy-faces at him till he's out of sight.  Then she pulls her cell-phone out of her purse and speed dials.]


MARIE

Mom?  It's Marie. ... Not yet, but he ordered champagne to go with dessert so I'm sure it'll be tonight. ... I know I thought that at Valentine's day, but I've been less subtle about dropping hints since then. ... Oh you know, stuff like walking him past a bridal shop and looking at a gown in the window and sighing.


[WAITRESS enters from the left, carrying two champagne flutes and hisses back over her shoulder, trying not to be heard in the dining room.]


WAITRESS

Me?  I'm not the one who felt unappreciated at Chez Antoine's!  I’m not the one who wanted his own place!

[WAITRESS brings the flutes to the table. MARIE is still on the phone, as if the other woman were invisible.]


MARIE

Yes,  he's noticed.  I'm sure he has!   And then, a couple of weeks ago, when I slowed down by a jewelry store window,  Jim actually stopped and looked in himself and kind of nodded.  Like he was making a decision, you know?  ...  Well no, he didn't say anything, then, but it was just a couple of days later that he invited me away this weekend.  Romantic country inn, champagne.  I'm positive it's gonna happen this time. ...


[WAITRESS, waiting to speak to Marie, fusses with setting the flutes just so, refolds Jim's napkin, etc. Meanwhile JIM enters upstage but, seeing MARIE on the phone, stops in the doorway.]


MARIE

Believe me, Mom, I'm well aware my biological clock is ticking.  ...  No, you're right, if I can’t get him to ask this weekend, I never will and I'm wasting my time. 


[JIM, still unnoticed, overhears this and is not pleased.]


MARIE

But I really do like this one, Mom.  I'm really in love this time.  


[JIM is reassured by this.  He pulls a ring box out of his jacket pocket and, waiting for Marie to finish her call, begins to physically rehearse how he might approach the table with the ring held out and propose at once.]


MARIE

Yes,  I'm coming home with the ring or without the guy. I promise.  ...  Yeah, but I gotta go.  It's not gonna seem too romantic if he comes back from the men's 

MARIE (continued)

room and finds me on the phone with my mother.  ...  No, no, I'll keep you posted.  Love you.  Bye.


[MARIE hangs up. JIM is absorbed enough in his indecision about how to stage the proposal that he doesn’t notice at once, but the WAITRESS, who has been waiting for Marie’s attention, glances meaningfully back at the kitchen door. ]


WAITRESS

Families, hunh?


MARIE

Did you want something?


WAITRESS

Just to tell you the souffle' will be a few more minutes -- well, it says that on the menu, doesn't it? That they're made to order.  And to ask if you wanted the champagne now or if you'd prefer to wait.


MARIE

Oh, now I guess.  We seem to be the last customers already.  I hope we're not inconveniencing you.


WAITRESS

Not at all.  We used to be ... that is, we're usually still pretty full at this hour.  Just a slow ... uh ... night.  A slow night.


MARIE

Ah.  Well.  You can bring the champagne now and then two coffees with the souffle'.  


WAITRESS

Of course.


[WAITRESS heads toward the kitchen door, MARIE puts the cell phone in her purse, pulls out a small mirror, checks her make up, primps.  A nervous JIM starts to head toward the table, open ring box with its glinting diamond held out in front of him.  Then, as the kitchen door opens, as if  the unseen CHEF been watching and waiting to resume the argument, from offstage ...]


CHEF

You were the one who maneuvered me into thinking I wanted to open an inn!  


WAITRESS

Maneuvered you! I don’t know what you’re talking about!  


CHEF

A nice little bistro I could have managed.  But no, you said ....


[The kitchen door slams, cutting off the end of his remark.  JIM and MARIE both look toward the the kitchen door.  MARIE shrugs, resumes her inspection in the mirror.  JIM however glances indecisively from the kitchen door to the ring to Marie.  Something, a pot perhaps, bangs loudly in the kitchen.  Jim jumps.  His movement catches MARIE's eye, and as she looks around JIM snaps the box shut and shoves it back in his jacket pocket.]


MARIE

There you are.  I was beginning to wonder if you'd run out on me.


[She puts the mirror back in her purse as JIM resumes his seat at the table.]

JIM

No, no, here I am.


MARIE

Here we are.


JIM

Yes.  Here we are.  Both of us.  Together.


MARIE

And it's always lovely, being together.  Don't you think?


JIM

Yes.  Yes it is lovely.  And that's why I ....


WAITRESS

[From offstage] My fault!  MY fault!  What do you mean, my fault!


CHEF

Well, maybe we would be breaking even if you ....


WAITRESS

If I. You always want to blame me.  You never want to take responsibility.


[The argument continues but at a reduced volume so that it can’t be made out in the dining room.  JIM, more distracted than MARIE, looks towards the kitchen.  MARIE on the other hand continues to gaze lovingly at him.]


MARIE

Why what?


JIM

Hunh?


MARIE

You were saying it was lovely being together, and that's why you ... what?


JIM

Oh, right, right.  That's why I ....  Well, we've been dating over a year now.


MARIE

Fifteen months.


JIM

Is it that long?


MARIE

Fifteen months, one week and three days.


JIM

Really.  Wow.  Well, as I was saying, we've been dating over ... over fifteen months, and we get along really well and ... and ...


[JIM starts to reach into the pocket where he'd stuffed the ring.]


MARIE

Yes?


[WAITRESS enters carrying a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket but pausing in the kitchen doorway to yell back over her shoulder.]



WAITRESS

I'm working my ass off to keep this place going!


CHEF

[Still offstage] This I find hard to believe when your ass is so much fatter than it was when I married you.


WAITRESS

Fatter?  Why you ... you ... .


[JIM and MARIE have both turned to watch her, open-mouthed, and JIM pulls his hand out of his pocket without the box.  As the WAITRESS  searches for the appropriate  insult, she realizes she has an audience.  With a visible effort she pulls herself together and brings the ice bucket to the table, where she pulls the bottle out and shows the label to Jim.]


WAITRESS

Dom Perignon.  Shall I open it?


MARIE

Yes.  Yes, please.


JIM

Are you okay?


[As she answers WAITRESS undoes the foil and wire cage on the bottle, then proceeds to wrestle the cork out as though she were wringing the chef’s neck.]




WAITRESS

Okay?  Oh yes.  I'm fine.  It's just ... you know.  These chefs.  Temperamental artist types.  Or so they like to think.  


[The cork emerges with a loud pop and the WAITRESS pours.]


WAITRESS

 There we go.  Now I'll just go see about ... um,  about that souffle'. 


[WAITRESS strides back toward the kitchen and flings the door open.]


WAITRESS

How dare you call me fat, you butter-basted wine-sodden piece of ....


[The end of her diatribe is cut off as the door slams shut behind her.]


JIM

They're really going at it.


MARIE

Well, a lot of couples fight occasionally.


JIM

Some couples fight all the time.


MARIE

We don't fight.


JIM

My parents fought all the time.


[During the following exchange a low rumble of the fight in the kitchen continues to be heard with only an occasional phrase erupting into audibility in the dining room.]


CHEF

I am the chef!  I have to taste the food.  You, on the other hand ... .


MARIE

We never fight.


JIM

I used to hate it when they ... . [It suddenly hits him what she's just said.] We had a fight last week. 


WAITRESS

And the wine?  How much of that do you need to taste?


MARIE

I wouldn't call that a "fight."


JIM

About visiting your parents.


MARIE

That was more of a ... a lover's spat.  Nothing serious.


JIM

I guess.  Nothing serious.


MARIE

One teeny tiny little lover's spat.  In fifteen months, one week and three days.

JIM

I guess that is better than average.  One.


MARIE

In more than fifteen months.  It's like you were saying before they ... well, before.  We get along really well.


[JIM, back on track, reaches into his pocket for the ring box.]


JIM

Right.  We get along really well and so I thought ... .


WAITRESS

That's it!  I've had it!


MARIE

And you thought ...?


CHEF

You’ve had it?  You?  Never should I have let you talk me into this!


JIM

I thought it was time for the next step in our relationship.


CHEF

This inn, this marriage, this life, you talked me into all of it!


[JIM has the ring box completely out of his pocket now and flips it open but he's holding it under the table where Marie can't see it.]



MARIE

Oh, Jim, I couldn't agree more.  The next step!


CHEF

And I’ve had enough of it, of you!


[The next two speeches are simultaneous.]


WAITRESS

Don't you dare!  You put that down!


JIM

Marie, would you ....


[He is interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, a shriek from the WAITRESS, then ominous silence. ]


MARIE

Would I what?


[JIM looks nervously toward the kitchen door, then shoves the ring box back in his pocket and pulls his key ring out of his slacks pocket.]


JIM

Would you, unh, like to exchange house keys?


MARIE

Exchange house keys?




JIM

Yeah.  I'd like to give you a set of my house keys.  And maybe you could give me a set of yours.  So we could get together more easily. 


MARIE

Exchange house keys!


JIM

And then, if that goes okay, maybe in another year or so, we could talk about moving in together.  Who knows after that.


MARIE

You want to exchange house keys!  After fifteen months, one week, and three days, you want to exchange house keys.


JIM

Well, I wouldn't want to rush into anything.


MARIE

Oh, you wouldn't want to rush into anything.  Well, let me tell you something Mister Take Your Time.  The only key you need to worry about is the key to another room at this inn.  Because I'm going upstairs, throwing your suitcase out in the hall, and bolting the door!  I never want to see you again, you ... you ... you waste of time!


JIM

Waste of time?


MARIE

That's right.  I've wasted fifteen months of my life on you!  Fifteen months, one week, and three days of my life.  Ooohhh!

[MARIE picks up her champagne flute and flings the contents in his face.  Then she tosses the glass down, gathers up her purse, and exits upstage with all the dignity she can muster.]


JIM

But Marie ...!  


[JIM half-rises from his seat but after a moment he reseats himself, shaking his head, and picks up his napkin and wipes his face. The WAITRESS enters from the kitchen, shell-shocked, with the remains of a chocolate souffle' smeared down the front of her apron.]


WAITRESS

I'm terribly sorry, but it seems that dessert will not be possible this evening.


JIM

That’s okay.  She was the one who wanted it anyway.


[The WAITRESS stumbles over and automatically rights the tipped over flute then sinks weakly into Marie’s empty chair before realizing.]


WAITRESS

She’s not here.


JIM

No.  No, she’s gone.  For good I think.


WAITRESS

Oh.  For good.  Is that good?



JIM

It’s okay.  No.  It is good.


[JIM pulls the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and refills the empty flute.  He offers it to WAITRESS.  She takes it .  JIM picks up his own glass and they toast.]


JIM

Cheers.


WAITRESS

Right.  Cheers.


[They settle in amiably to get drunk.]


THE END

© Linda Grady-Troia 2015, 2016, 2017