“You mean the grandmother and the grandfather?”
“Right. Look at the mother. She’s shallow at the beginning and just as shallow at the end. She hasn’t learned a thing. But the grandmother has. After all, she decides to go back to the grandfather. You remember that wonderful scene between the two of them in the second act?”
“Yes,” said Peggy. “I thought that was the best thing in the play.”
“I did too,” Randy said. “You see, Innocent Laughter deals with three women who are being very foolish about their lives. The grandfather is brought in to straighten them out. He succeeds with two of them, but fails with the third.”
“Then why didn’t they play it the way you think it should be done?” Amy demanded.
Randy shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but my guess is they wanted a glamorous star to play the part of the mother and had to tailor the whole play around her. Don’t misunderstand me. I think it’s still a good play, but it could be much, much better.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Amy said, brushing the bread crumbs to one side. “But let’s have a short intermission. Soup’s on.”
Smiling genially, as he threaded his way past the tables in his crowded restaurant, came Tony with the spaghetti.
“Ahhh!” breathed Amy contentedly. “What a beautiful sight. I’m so hungry I could eat miles of it.”
“Eat all you want,” Randy told her airily. “Treat’s on me tonight.”