There is a long silence. Did the call drop? “Elsie?”
The sound of a cup clanking on the other end lets me know she’s there, just not talking to me. “I need some wine for this. Hang on.”
Another few beats pass,then a loud slurp. “Ahh. Okay. I had to write in a brother.”
“A brother? Are these fake pages?” Elsie is a notorious prankster.
“They’re not fake.”
“Her brother, or my brother?”
“You have a brother now.”
Part of what I fell in love with in the script was the quietness of the two-character tableau. Just me, her, and the phantom of the Loch Ness monster. “Why?”
“The studio?—”
“You mean Emily and Marissa.”
“Yes, but I agree with them that it needed more tension. It’s an out-there concept. Another name will help with the box office, too. Read the pages. You’ll see they’re better. The counterbalance of another male in the mix gives your character more depth.”
I’m not completely sold, but I like the idea of more depth. It could open up the possibility for a larger range of emotions. Jealousy can be powerful. “Do you know if they’ve cast the brother?”
Silence, which means she knows.
“Elsie, you have to tell me.”
“I don’t have to do anything. Besides, how would I know? I’m just the lowly screenwriter.”
I laugh at this. Elsie always knows everything. Everyone loves her. Whether sheshouldknow or not, she usually does.
“Elsie, come on. I won’t say who I heard it from.”
I hear a deep breath on the other end of the line. “Ty Marshall, okay? They cast Ty Marshall.”
My fingers go numb, like I’d slept on my arm funny. “I have to go.”
“Mil—”
I hang up before I drop the phone.
SKYE
Miles is gone. It’s completely fine. That’s what I wanted in the first place. I don’t need him here to write my horseback riding scene.
It’ll be business as usual. I get on my bike and ride into town. The Thistle House is hopping when I get there, and I wave to the men at the bar. They’re here so often that their bahoochies are probably shaped like the stool, or vice versa.
Kate is knitting by the fire, so I go to join her. Without even looking up from her turquoise wool, she says, “You missed out this morning.”
My shoulders tense because I know what she’s going to say before she says it. “Oh really?” I watch Margie clean up a table by the window.
Kate looks up at me, her striking green eyes alight, and leans forward as if the bodach’s at the bar care what we’re saying. “Do you remember that movie you made me watch a million times when we were thirteen about the football star and the nerdy girl who became a cheerleader?”
“We were fourteen, and I don’t rememberhaving to force you.”
“Were we? Oh, God… Remember the dance we made up to the song in the credits?”
I grin. The theme song to the movie was OutKast's “Hey Yeah” and Kate and I made up an epic dance and lip sync number that we even performed at the local pub, with all the town cheering us on, just about dying laughing into their pints.
