“What is it?”
Victor glanced up. “Message from Tanith. She says, there is something wrong with this screenplay. Your action thing was good. Can I turn this over to you for a week, I think I’m hitting the beats but in between there is dead space.”
“She wants you to script-doctor it? Wow, that is unexpected. But kind of gratifying.” Andy picked up his coffee mug, registered with displeasure that
it was empty, and stood up. “Want some more caffeine?”
“No, thanks, honey. Too much makes me jittery and then I fall over.”
“No you don’t.” Andy brushed a hand through his husband’s hair as he went to the kitchen.
“She attached the document. I wonder if she knows I can barely type.”
He was gratified though. Before, Tanith had said ‘it doesn’t suck.’ Now she said ‘it was good.’ So either she really wanted his help, or she’d downplayed her assessment before, or both.
“The girls next door could give you a lesson. They both do like a hundred words per minute.” Andy was fairly speedy himself, but he wasn’t about to touch this project. He’d be helpful when it came time to compose the shots. Till then, he was keeping it zipped. “Vicky might have thoughts on that too. Isn’t she one of the stars?”
“Well, I guess we’re about to find out. Let me ask Tanith if it’s okay to show her.” He sent a reply text, then leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Every time I see my feet I’m like, what the fuck.”
Andy smiled. “Are you starting to not notice them?”
“Actually, yeah. Except when I go to the john and then I’m like, how far down is that damned thing.” Andy giggled as Victor’s phone pinged. “She says might as well, this is all her fault anyway. Damn, we’re a little cranky over in the Valley this morning.” He stood up, noted that he hardly even had to think about how, and went out the front door.
The entry door of the B side was closed, so he knocked. He heard Vicky saying something, probably to Sharon, then as she approached heard “How many times have we told you La Provence will deliver that cake?” The last word sounded like a genuine question, because she had the door open and was staring up at him. “The fuck?”
“Mom said it! Mom said it!”
Victor bit his lip, trying not to laugh as he heard Sharon (also apparently trying not to laugh) start to explain (again) to Simka why grown-ups sometimes used bad words. He said from on high, “Hi Vicky. Do you have a few minutes to talk about a screenplay?”
She recovered. “I think we need to talk about why you’re six and a half feet tall all of a sudden.” She looked him over with interest. In real life, she was only an inch shorter than Victor. Why in the hell, she wondered, and then
thought, oh. She hid the resulting glee and said, “Sharon, do I have an hour or so to talk about a screenplay?”
“At least. I’m going to take Miss Smarty Pants for a walk over to Grandma’s.”
“Okay. Give Miriam my regards. Careful crossing the street. Love you honey.”
“Always. Love you too.”
Vicky stepped out, closing the door behind her. “Let’s talk about this screenplay. Is it Tanith’s thing? Wow, your ass is phenomenal.”
“Isn’t it?” said Andy through the open door from the A side. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes please.”
Andy didn’t ask about the screenplay until Sunday night. By then, Victor and Vicky had put in about twelve hours on it. Sharon had come over to drag her wife home for dinner, and Victor was lying on the couch bitching. Not about his feet, for a change, but about his back.
“Well, you’ve been hunched over the laptop for the better part of two days,” Andy pointed out. “Tonight you need to seriously stretch, and tomorrow we need to seriously rehearse.”
“You’re right, I know. Do you want to hear about this thing at all?”
“Do I have to be hateful to you?”
“Nope, and I’m not hateful to you either.”
“Okay, good. Are we singing or dancing on screen?”
“Singing offscreen, dancing on screen. Not with each other, because forties straight club setting, but eye-fucking each other while we dance with other people.” Victor couldn’t help smiling about that. He couldn’t wait to play it.
Andy couldn’t either. They’d done some good eye-fucking on the TV
show. “Okay, great. Then is it the straight-razor thing?”
“It sure is.”
“Yikes, okay. What else would I want to know?”
“I guess that’s it.” Victor was still smiling, looking up at Andy, very much appreciating that his first concern was how they would be, together, in
their scenes. “Did you hear back from Red?”
“They’re flying in today. I’ll shoot those at the end of the week. We’ll re-purpose some of the other costume for Mary, and of course Red’s got his own shit for Macduff.”
“Which line is it for him? Oh yeah, ‘my wife kill’d too.’ He got great reviews.”
“Yes he did. He said getting that message from Niall was such a kick in the head. He’d never done any of the plays before, not as an actor. Only on the crew. I’m sure his agent is having a continuous screaming orgasm.”
Victor laughed. “Is Raquel still trying to get you to take something between now and July?”
“Yes she is. Presumably Parker’s the same. Why they won’t take no for an answer, I’ll never understand.”
“Well, they get paid when we do.” Victor wriggled a little, then sat up. “I think I’m hungry.”
“Good, I’ve been waiting for that.” Andy gave him a hand up off the couch, then couldn’t resist stepping in for a kiss. “Gee this is fun.” If he hadn’t been truly hungry, he would have done something more.
“It is fun.” Victor bent for another kiss, one hand on the side of Andy’s neck, still amazed. They fit together differently, but they still fit together.
“Your mouth is every
