Tammy was waiting for them in the parking lot. She greeted Orchid with an admonition. “No beach, and no water for you.”
Orchid laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m prepared this time.” She pointed to thick-soled combat boots. “We’re staying on dry land.”
“I like your get-up,” Tammy noted. “Beats hell out of my military khakis!”
Orchid glanced down at her camouflage jumper with a zipper running down the middle. “I wore this to honor your service.”
“Probably not military issue,” Tammy said with a snort.
The women linked arms and walked into the restaurant. Late in the afternoon, the place was half-empty.
As they stood inside the entrance, Tammy pointed to a folder Phoenix was carrying. “Always working, heh?”
Before he could respond, the hostess approached them and escorted them to a small booth. Phoenix and Orchid scooted onto one vinyl bench and Tammy took the one facing them. He placed the folder on the corner of the table.
Orchid was keenly aware of his presence, her upper arm warmed by his.
“Veggie burger, no fries,” Tammy ordered, when the waitress returned.
“I’ll take a veggie burger on a whole wheat roll, and no fries here, either,” Orchid said. The women exchanged grins. Synchronicity, even in their orders.
The server turned to Phoenix.
“Eggplant parm sandwich. And I’ll havedoublefries, please,” he asserted with mock defiance.
“Good choice. I’ll give you theirs,” the waitress nodded, and left with the menus.
“You’re going to want those fries, believe me,” he predicted. “I grew up eating here, lots of summers with my cousins. You’ll be begging to share mine!”
The food arrived quickly, and the three of them dove in, chewing accompanied by the 90’s hits playing over speakers.
Phoenix nudged his plate towards the center of the table. “Try some,” he offered, gesturing towards his fries.
Tammy snuck one off Phoenix’s plate and popped it into her mouth. “These are addictive,” she said.
“As long as we’re together, we should go over plans for the shoot,” he said to Tammy. “We’re proud of the final script; it covers all your main feedback.”
He pulled a page from a manila folder. Tammy read the script quietly.
Orchid had written this based on input from several sources. She knew that it was a moving piece, one in which Tammy would share her first-hand experiences during combat. It related her journey, after being wounded from denial to anger… and worse. And then, ultimately, how she had benefitted from PTSD counseling.
Tammy finally looked up. “Wow, that’s powerful stuff.”
“That’s you,” Orchid assured her.
Looking into Tammy’s face, understanding the impact this film would have, Orchid inhaled with pride.
“It even sounds like me. How’d you do that?” Tammy asked.
“The creative team did a great job. You’ll love them on set,” Orchid replied. “And when—"
Phoenix interrupted. “What Miss Humble isn’t saying is that she wrote a manifesto, in addition to the brief. That is, she set the stage for this entire project. And then she created the video montage of your experiences. She’s also leaving out the part about delivering it all with heart.”
Tammy nodded her gratitude at these two people who were seated like a couple. “Will I see you guys at the shoot?”
“My producer and creative director will be there, but not me,” he said.
Tammy turned to Orchid.
