(As much as Marc does not want to go to the chair, fears it is a trap, she draws him to her. He walks over to the chair and sits on the edge of it.) Remember what we used to play on this chair?
MARC: Tent.
CYNTHIA: And what else?
MARC: Titanic.
CYNTHIA: And what else?
MARC: I don’t remember anything else. Tent and Titanic.
CYNTHIA: We used to play another game on here. You don’t remember?
MARC: Well, Cyn, I really just sleep in the chair now. I don’t remember whatever dumb games we used to play.
CYNTHIA: They weren’t dumb.
MARC: Oh, right. They were really great games.
CYNTHIA: I taught you how to read in this chair.
MARC: No, you didn’t.
CYNTHIA: Yes, I did.
MARC: It’s so like you to take credit for things that you think you did for me.
CYNTHIA: Shut up. I taught you how to read.
MARC: No, you didn’t. Mom and Ms. Brogus, my first grade teacher, they taught me how to read.
CYNTHIA: Ms. Brogus!?!?! Oh, so I guess I wasn’t good for you...bad role model, right? Is that what you are saying?
MARC: You were not my mother or my teacher, you… We’ve been through this before. (Pause. Cynthia starts to get nervous and looks like she is going to well up.) Wait. Let’s not blow this out of proportion. Come on, Cyn, you did plenty for me. (Marc starts to get off the chair but Cynthia pulls him back towards her, holding him close to her.) Mom should be home from work any minute now.
CYNTHIA: But she’s not back yet. And since she isn’t, we’ll have more quality time. Isn’t that swell? I mean, I just got here and I haven’t seen you, in what, like a couple of months, and well, we can just sit here. Can’t we?