EXT. RURAL CAFE - DAY
Brunch. Rustic, DINERS, indoor/outdoor seating, six motorcycles, helmets attached, in a row among the cars with California plates in the oak-shaded dirt parking lot.
Barbara, John and Jan, outside seating, etc. CONVERSATION MURMUR, DISHWARE CLATTER., COLTRANE THROUGH SPEAKERS. They sip their half-empty mimosas.]
BARBARA: Did you tell aunt Rachel?
JOHN: I did. She expects pictures.
BARBARA: Chloe will be taking them.
JOHN: She called wondering if Brian might be willing to build that deck she's been talking about.
BARBARA: I'll pass it along.
JOHN: I was going to tomorrow.
BARBARA: Good call.
JAN: Has he started his lap pool yet?
BARBARA: No. Luka’s batting cage is there until he starts Cuesta. So. Anything come from middle name Travis?
JOHN: Yes. A street view of their three-bedroom house on a leafy street lined by similar across from a park.
BARBARA/JAN: Really?
JOHN: Patches of snow on the ground.
JAN: When did you find this?
JOHN: You were on the phone with Caroline.
JAN: Oh.
JOHN: And a cursory glance at a blog I'm pretty sure his wife keeps. A photo of a man named Clem who, per my quick read, was a friend who died recently. Something about he and Tom and fishing in the Snowy Range. I'll send the link.
BARBARA: Do. Thanks. Oh! Doh. I don't think I mentioned that Tom's sister maintains their family tree on an ancestry site.
JOHN/JAN: Really?
BARBARA: I'll send the link when I get it from Chloe.
JOHN: Do. Thanks.
BARBARA: I don't know what's entailed in seeing that tree, probably signing up.
JOHN: I'll find out.
Barbara's PHONE RINGTONES A SPLASH SOUND.
BARBARA: Drumroll.
Barbara gets phone from pocket, stares at screen.
JAN/JOHN: Drumroll.
Barbara hands Jan phone, John leans in to see the SELFIE CHLOE HAS TAKEN that includes Hunter, Jackie and Tom, all smiling at the camera from an elevated site with the Tularosa Basin expansive in the background and Sacramento Mountains in the farther distance.
JAN: We've been there.
JOHN: On the way to White Sands. It's the San Augustin Pass rest area.
JAN: Yes.
Jan finally returns the phone to Barbara, who stares at the picture before putting it in her pocket.
The WAITER, 25ish, comes out with their plates.
WAITER: Alrighty. The spinach quiche.
(He places it in front of Jan.)
JAN: Thank you.
WAITER: Enjoy. The frittata.
(He places it in front of Barbara.)
BARBARA: Thank you.
WAITER: Of course. And the shakshuka.
(He places it in front of John.)
JOHN: Thank you.
WAITER: My pleasure. Are we ready for our mimosa refills?
JAN/JOHN/BARBARA: Yes.
They each finish the last of their mimosas, the waiter takes their glasses.
WAITER: B-R-B.
SIX 40-something FEMALE MOTORCYCLISTS - jeans, boots, leather jackets - come out from the cafe, walk to their motorcycles, start and rev their engines, roll to the road, let traffic pass, turn onto road and ride away, taking their ENGINE RUMBLE with them.
JAN/JOHN: She looks happy.
BARBARA: She does.
JOHN: I feel better.
JAN: Me too. You're right about Jackie being beautiful.
Waiter returns, refills their mimosas and waters
WAITER: Alright, y'all. If you need anything else, just flag me down.
JAN/JOHN/BARBARA: Thank you.
Water refills waters on neighboring table, leaves into cafe.
JOHN: A toast.
Re raises his mimosa, Jan and Barbara raise theirs.
JAN/BARBARA: To?
JOHN: To the unexpected keeping us on our toes.
JAN: The unforeseeable opening our eyes wider.
BARBARA: The unknowable reminding us of wonder.
They clink glasses, drink, begin eating.