Okay.
What?
-Nothing, I said okay. -Mm-mm.
Mm-mm. No, you don't think it's the same, right?
But you don't think it's the same because I knew my dad
my whole life and I knew William for less than a year,
so the bond was different.
Obviously it was easier for me to make peace with his death?
Is that what you think?
I-I think I lost two fathers.
And I think if I'd had it my way,
obviously I wouldn't have lost either one of them.
So to answer your first question, yes,
I'm fully aware that I'm just a-a cute little pawn
on the universe's big giant chess board.
I don't need an exercise
from some overpriced therapist in cheap shoes
to prove it to me.
That was uncalled for.
Sorry.
Oh, please, I live for this stuff.
It's interesting, Randall,
how you see this entirely as
an exercise about losing your father.
Your fathers. Plural fathers.
I don't follow.
Actually, this whole exercise began because of a disagreement
that you had with your brother over your mother's care.
If you think about it, your life has really been defined
by your mothers, hasn't it?
The mother you lost at birth,
who is barely a footnote in your story,
-and the mother who lied to you for 36 years. -All right, look.
William told me everything he knew about my birth mother.
It was a romance that was sweet for a time,
but it was short-lived and drug-addled.
I'll never know much about her,
I've accepted that long ago.
As for my mother Rebecca...
...yeah, she lied to me.
But I forgave her for that.
And we've moved on. I've accepted that, too.
LEIGH: Have you?
Absolutely.
It's behind us.
It's...
It's curious, though,
that in both your scenarios of how your life
would've played out if your father had lived...
the first thing that happens after you save him,
the first thing,
is your mother tells the truth about William.
Why do you think you're here in my office right now?
I know, I know,
because everybody who comes to therapy
has these deep-seated mommy issues, right?
I didn't say therapy. I said my office.
My office.
Do you know how many black men
who can choose whatever therapist they want choose me?
It's a very low number.
You were highly recommended.
Your mother and I are the same gender,
we're the same race,
I'm probably around the same age she was when your father died.
Another therapist--
a good one, not an overpriced hack like me--
might say you're looking for someone like your mother
to help you process her.
What she's done.
Her illness.
I'm not a neurologist, Randall,
and I don't know your mother's condition.
But I'm pretty sure you don't have all the time in the world
to heal from the wounds that you have from her.
So, what are you saying?
(sniffles) What is the exact advice that you're giving me?
I'm a therapist.
I don't give advice.
I offer observations and I pose questions.
Observation.
Even in the worst version of your life,
you still protect your mother,
you still redeem her in the end.
Question.
Have you ever really confronted your mother
about what she did to you?
About what she kept from you?