“So, our love is your ratty old cardigan?”
I shake my head. “No, well, sort of—hey, it’s not ratty. It’s well-worn.”
He laughs, putting another log on the fire. “You’re the writer, so I’ll leave the analogies to you. Oh, I read your book. Did Elsie give it back to you?”
My heart hammers in my chest. I wanted to ask about the book the whole way here. I’m dying to know what he thinks, but I also didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. Since he hadn’t mentioned it yet, I am almost certain that he hates it. He probably didn’t connect with the characters.Story of my life.Particularly gutting, seeing as he is basically one of them. “She did. It’s just a first draft. I still have a lot of work to do, fleshing it out?—”
“I loved it. It’s warm and funny but also cutting and emotional. Just like you.”
It feels like the summer sun has come out and shone just on me; I can practically feel the warmth. Or maybe Miles got the fire to catch. “You loved it?”
“I did. And I’ve been thinking.” He shuts the door to the wood stove, the fire blazing inside, and comes to sit next to me on the rug. “I’m so impressed with everyone’s bravery lately. Thora isstarting a brand-new life in Scotland, Minnie quitting, you writing this amazing novel, which is a totally different genre for you, right?”
I nod, touched that he remembered. Touched but not surprised. Miles remembers things about me. He really listens. It’s part of what I love about him.
“And I was thinking to myself, have I been brave? The last couple of years, I’ve taken the safe roles—well, except for this film, really, but even this film, I just had to show up and do my job, right? I want to produce. I want to see a film from inception to reception.”
“Ooh, and I thought I was the writer.”
He waves me off. “I have my moments. But I was wondering, I was hoping, what if we made your book into a movie?”
I sit up as if jolted with a shock of electricity. “You want to make my manuscript into a movie?”
He nods, a massive smile on his face.
“But it’s not even a book yet.”
He shrugs. “Well, it needs an ending, but given the slightly autobiographical nature of the story, I kinda figured we were working on that right now.” He runs a hand on my thigh under the blanket, and I get another, entirely different shock of electricity.
The water ripples.It’s small at first, so small you can hardly see it—in fact, if you blinked, you wouldn’t. The wind blows on my cheeks, and I’m grateful that I wore my woolly hat, scarf, and my warmest coat. The ripple expands and all of a sudden erupts, sending shock waves lapping at the shore. The beast emerges from the depths, water rolling off its scaly back. Miles approaches the edge of the water, his strong calves stunning in his long socks and kilt. He must be absolutely freezing.
The creature approaches the shore. Miles reaches out his hand to the beast’s face. He caresses Nessie’s cheek as gently as a lover.
“He’s gone. They’re all gone. I have no family left. No lover. Just you.”
The beast nuzzles its head into his hand, then turns around, diving under and leaving Miles alone on the shore. Miles motions with his body like he’s going to dive in the water, but stops himself, and Natalie yells, “Cut.”
“That’s a wrap.”
The whole crew cheers. Several of them pop champagne, while three of them get the animatronic Loch Ness Monster out of the water and quickly onto the trailer they use to haul it.
Miles runs to me, picking me up off my feet and swinging me around. The landscape swirls around me. The tree, the loch, and the crew all come in and out of focus as we spin. They’ve chosen my favorite spot in the world for the final shot of the film, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s funny to think that just a few months ago, if I’d seen anyone else here that I hadn’t brought myself, I probably would’ve shoved them into the loch. But now, sharing it feels right. It’s a magical place, and it turns out that sharing it with others has only enhanced its charm.
A PA hands us both a clear plastic flute filled with bubbly.
Once everyone has a glass, Natalie holds hers in the air. “Thank you all for being a part of this crazy idea.”
Elsie pipes up. “Hey, who are you calling crazy?”
Everyone laughs.
Natalie continues. “If you’re crazy, we’re all right there with you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for going all in. I couldn’t have asked for a better location or better hosts?—”
Dad holds up his glass and, in his booming voice, says, “You’re welcome.”
More laughter.
“But really, I couldn’t have dreamed up a better crew or a more invested cast. Thank you. Thank you for your commitment to the story, to the film, to each other.”
