Twenty Years for My Son·Episode 3 of 3·1:54
Twenty Years, Girl
A mother paroled after twenty years arrives at her son's door and is hired, unrecognized, as his housekeeper.
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The parole office.
Approved.
This address. Live-in.
Your officer comes tomorrow.
Your room's the basement.
Sheets are on the dryer.
Twenty years, girl.
I'm done not talking.
Go on, see who listens.
Thanks.
Twenty years, you never once wrote, so now you'll listen.
Your wife was driving that night, you were in the back.
She told me herself. Today. Right here.
She knows who I am, Sean.
She called me Maureen.
Keep your voice down.
No. I know it was her Jeep. I took her keys at that party.
I don't remember the road.
She never told a soul. She married me anyway.
I'm your mother.
Why would I lie to you?
You lied to a judge for me.
You'd say anything to be Ma again.
Be gone by morning.
She's not going anywhere, Sean.
Brooke.
I hired Mary. Mary lives here now.
Then keep her out of my sight.
Wash his cup, then go to bed.
Yes ma'am.
I found him at the wheel.
You said he was in the back.
You put my boy behind that wheel.
He slept through all of it. I moved him myself.