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Thursday, February 7, 2002
Transcribed and edited by Cindy Popiela and Karen Ross.
At Troy's
Troy appears anxious, and decides to make a phone call.
Nora: (at the courthouse) Hello?
Troy: Hi Nora! It's me!
Nora: Troy, I thought we already said our goodbyes in the cemetery?
Troy: When we kissed, I know.
Nora: If you've decided not to leave town and stay here, I just want you to know, that's never going to happen again.
Troy: Look Nora, that's not why I called. I just wanted to hear your voice one more time before . . .
Nora: Before you marry Lindsay!
Troy: No, before it's all over Nora. You're finally going to have what you want. What you deserve. Justice!
Nora: (noticing Sam walking into the corridor) I gotta go. (hanging up, she turns to Sam) Hi!
At Troy's
Troy is pulling his ripped sweater and handcuffs out of his bag and laying them along the back of the couch.
Lindsay: (walking into the loft) What a day! What a day! I don't know whether to laugh or scream!
Troy: (moving between Lindsay and the couch) Lindsay, what are you doing here?! I thought I was picking you up at the gallery.
Lindsay: (holding up a syringe) I got this in my mail. And don't think I don't know who sent it. Nora sent me this. I know she did. I'm telling you that she's lost it.
Troy: Ok, look, Lindsay, just -- just calm down.
Lindsay: How am I supposed to calm down when I got a syringe in the mail? How am I supposed to calm down?
Troy: I know, I know. I can't believe that that's how they sent that to you. I'm just glad that you weren't hurt.
Lindsay: Troy, this was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.
Troy: And it will be.
Lindsay: No, it won't because she can't stand to see me happy and she's going to do everything she can to ruin it.
Troy: Ok, look, let's just -- let's just calm down. Let's take a step back here. Now, what makes you think that it was Nora?
Lindsay: Who else would it be? There's no one else running around insisting that I wiped her memory out with some drug.
Troy: Yeah, but you didn't, did you?
Lindsay: (hesitating) No. But she thinks I did, and she's like a dog with a bone. She's sending me syringes and these phone calls at the gallery.
Troy: Wait, wait, wait, wait. You said the phone calls came from a man.
Lindsay: Well, they did, you know, but she could have put somebody up to it. Maybe -- maybe she got Sam to do it.
Troy: Sam! . . . Lindsay, come on. Now, you're letting your imagination run a little wild with you here.
Lindsay: My imagination? (waving the syringe) Is this imaginary? Are the phone calls imagined? You got them, too.
Troy: I know I did, Lindsay, but . . . but this . . . this . . . this doesn't sound like Nora's style.
Lindsay: Well, whose style would it be, then? Who? Who would go out of their way to torture us over and over . . . (Troy looks at her and Lindsay realizes who Troy is suggesting) Tell me you didn't mean that!
Troy: Mean what?
Lindsay: What you just said.
Troy: That it doesn't sound like Nora's style?
Lindsay: No, no . . . I know that's what you said, but . . . I mean what you meant, what you were implying. You don't think that this could be Colin? He's . . . he's dead.
Troy: You're right, you're right. Of course he is. He . . . of course he is. Although it does sound more like his style.
Lindsay: It's not possible.
Troy: No. No, you know what? You're absolutely right. It's . . . of course you are. You're absolutely right.
Lindsay: Well, you see, then? It's nora. It's got to be nora. I mean, she hates me. She hates me. She wants to destroy me.
Troy: Ok. Ok, ok, so maybe it is Nora.
Lindsay: Do you believe me?
Troy: Do I believe you? Of course I believe you. If you believe it, then I believe it. Look, Lindsay, she's not going to follow us to Paris, ok, because she doesn't know where we're going. I mean, you didn't tell anybody our itinerary, did you?
Lindsay: I don't even know what it is.
Troy: Good. Ok, so she can't follow us because no one knows where we're going to be. So what we need to do right now is focus on the wonderful time that you and I are going to have in Paris. You hear me? Is that better? Hmm? Ok. Now, listen. We better get a move on, or we are going to miss our plane. So why don't you head back to your gallery, get your things together, and I'm going to swing by in a little bit and pick you up, ok?
Lindsay: Ok.
Troy: All right. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey . . . what do you say?
Lindsay: I love you.
Troy: I love you, too, ok? All right. Oh, and, Lindsay, you know what? Don't . . . don't even worry about Nora, ok? We will deal with her when we get back.
Lindsay: Ok. (leaving the loft) Oh, Troy, I'm sorry. But I don't think I can wait that long.
Later at the loft.
Troy: (into a recorder) Hey, Lindsay, it's me, Troy.
Phone rings.
Troy's voice: Hey, Lindsay, it's me, Troy.
Troy: So much for the dress rehearsal. Guess now it's time for the opening night. (begins changing into one of Colin's old shirts and practicing his impersonation of his brother)
Later, Troy is leaving his place when he remembers that he left the handcuffs. He goes back to get them.
Troy: Come on, Troy, focus! You're definitely going to need these. (holding up the handcuffs)
Sam: (walking into the loft) What the hell are you up to?
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