ED:      Gail.

GAIL:  Ed. It’s been a minute.

ED:      I’m so glad you could meet me. I brought you this— [Pulls an un-bloomed amaryllis from behind his back and sets it on the picnic table.]

GAIL: You remembered. Shall we sit? [They do.] How are you? This is. . . weird. Strange, I have to admit.

ED:      Yes. Weird situation. Weird times. You’re so far away. [Pretending to speak into a microphone.] Testing. Testing, one, two. Can you hear me?

GAIL: [Soft laugh while taking off mask.] Are you still teaching?

ED:      [Taking off mask] Department Chair. Retiring next year and ready. Throwing in the glove [Throws one of his gloves on the table.] How about you? I know you left theatre a long time ago, but made quite a splash in the world of business. What was. . .?

GAIL:  I revolutionized the frozen Chicken Pot Pie. Took it from tasting like the cardboard it came in to comfort food that truly tastes homemade. Sold that business and went into gaming. Videos, RPG’s. So, actually, my theatre roots proved useful. Why did you call me?

ED:      I have. . .over the years. . .recently, that is, felt I owed you an apology. The uh. . . the world has changed. For the better. My actions. . .when you were my. . . a student, were, inappropriate and/

GAIL:  /I thought that was love.

ED:      Oh [Relieved, grateful, surprised], it was, Gail. God. Yes. Still—

GAIL: I was young.

ED:      And I was your professor and . . .despite my very real feelings, it was wrong. I see that now. I never did that. . . fell in love, or had any. . .intimate relationship with a student again/

GAIL:  /you didn’t?

ED:      No.

GAIL: You never married.

ED:      No. Well! That’s all I wanted to say. I need to go. [He gets up, moving to leave.]

GAIL:  Wait! Ed, Could we/

ED:      Good-bye, Gail. I wish you well.

[He quickly EXITS, leaving one of his gloves. GAIL takes her time to regard the amaryllis, then sees the glove. Picks it up, and slips her hand into it, and holds it to her face as the LIGHTS fade to black.]

END OF PLAY