Spit Screen (Off Screen #10)

1. Addison

CHAPTER ONE

As a writer, I constantly flex my imagination. From tales of enchanted creatures to stories of crime and passion, I've always prided myself on having a vivid imagination. But falling in love with a TV star? That was beyond any fictional world I could have dreamed up. My encounter with Emma Bronson was unexpected and life-changing. There is something truly unique about her. She's the most genuine person I've ever met, which may surprise those who only know her as a glamorous celebrity. While Emma’s physical beauty is undeniable, it's the way her sweetness and vulnerability shine through that draws people in. Her authenticity remains unwavering whether she's walking onto a set or changing a diaper. After more than a decade together, she still takes my breath away with the simplest gestures—a smile, a raised brow at me when she knows I'm holding back, or the sound of her infectious laughter at our children's antics.

From the outside, it may seem like we lead a charmed life. We’re deeply in love, and our relationship means everything to us. But we have faced challenges along the way. I used to worry my presence in Emma's life would disrupt her flourishing career. She feared her fame would bring unwanted attention and criticism into my life. As with any relationship, there are moments of miscommunication and misunderstandings, but we learn from them, and I think she would agree we continue to grow stronger together. While our family is the best thing in my life, it wouldn't exist without Emma—she is my inspiration and muse, despite her protests. Without her, I never would have writtenOff Screenor experienced the indescribable happiness of building our family. Emma is the light of our family and the beat of my heart.

Recently, we received news that blindsided me and momentarily plunged my world into darkness. Following Emma's routine appointment with her gynecologist, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Despite the doctor's reassurances it could be treated, and she would fully recover, I felt like my world was crumbling. Emma remained composed and optimistic when she told me the news. It wasn't until the night before her surgery that she finally opened up to me about her fears and worries.The memory still takes my breath away.

“Em?”

“I’m sorry, Addy.”

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?” I ask.

Emma shakes her head.

“Em.” I pull Emma into my arms and hold her. “Hey. Are you crying?”

“I don’t want to upset you.”

I can’t help but chuckle. Upset me? Emma has spent the last few weeks supportingme. “I hate seeingyouupset, Em.”

“But I don’t want my fear to make you worry.”

I pull back and take Emma’s face in my hands. “Emma, I need you to listen to me now. Don’t say anything. Listen. Okay?”

Emma nods. “I love you more than anything in this world. You can’t ask me not to worry. Of course, I’m worried. I can’t stand seeing you in pain or sick—and I won’t lie to you. We’ve never done that. The thought of losing you scares me.” I smile at her. “ButI’m not losing you anytime soon. You’re going to be fine tomorrow—and you’ll be here to see the kids go to their proms and bringtheirkids home for Christmas.”

Emma chuckles through a sob.

“Everything is going to be okay,” I tell her, and I believe it.

“I love you so much, Addy.”

“I know. I love you. There isn’t anything we can’t get through.”

Emma nods, takes a deep breath, and kisses me. “Addy,” she says. “I believe we can get through whatever life hands us—I do. But this reminds me that one day, there will be somethingwecan’t get through. One of us will leave the other. I hear you. I need you to hear me.”

I nod and fight to swallow the growing lump in my throat. I lost my mother to cancer when I was in college. Emma knows how that experience affected my life. My dad pulled away for years. I always thought his distance was because he disapproved of me being a lesbian. Grief is a bitch. He loved my mom like I love Emma. He didn’t know how to talk to me about my feelings, much less, his. And he saw my mom in me—something about seeing me made him miss her more. It surprised me to learn that he didn’t think I missed him. It’s strange how we perceive other people’s thoughts and emotions. He took the physical distance between us as a sign that I preferred to maintain emotional distance. The only thing I wanted was for my father to pull me close and comfort me.

“I believe this will all turn out fine,” Emma says. “Ibelieveit. But I also know life can take unexpected turns. I need you to know before I go into surgery—” Emma stops speaking and closes her eyes.

“I know,” I whisper.

I take a deep breath, understanding descending on me like a massive wave breaking on the shore. I suddenly understand what Emma fears most. We have three children who are the center of our lives. I didn’t think I could love Emma more than I did when we took our marriage vows. When she told me she was pregnant with our first child, I felt emotions I didn’t know existed, and I saw the same raw feelings reflected in her eyes. Emma’s an amazing mother. I should know—I had an amazing mom. Emma is worried about our kids losing me to grief like I lost my dad for far too long.

“Em, look at me,” I say,

Emma shakes her head.

“Emma, look at me.”

Slowly, Emma’s eyes open. Tears roll over her cheeks, and I wipe them away with my thumbs.

“I don’t want to think about life without you. I know it could happen one day. But that day is alongway off—like sixty years.”

Emma laughs and cries. “I don’t think I’m Betty White.”

“No. You’ll outlive her for sure.”

Emma laughs genuinely, even as her tears continue to fall. “Addy.”

I sigh, the weight of reality pressing on my chest. “I realize I’m a lot like my dad,” I admit. “And there’s no point in me telling you I would be fine if I lost you. We both know it would shatter me. But I promise, Em, I will always care for our kids. You never need to worry about that. Okay? I know you would do the same thing. No matter how much I might want to pack it in and let my grief consume me, I will never let the kids drown in my sadness. I promise,” I say as I continue to brush away Emma’s tears.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You don’t need to thank me. You’re the strong one in our marriage.”

“That’s not true,” Emma says. “I don’t feel particularly strong right now.”

“I know, but you are. I’d worry if you didn’t feel a little anxiety before having surgery. For the record, I believe you’re destined for a long life. I don’t have any illusions about your mortality—or mine. That’s why this has been hard for me.”

“I know.”

“There’s something else bothering you. Do you want to tell me what you don’t want to tell me?” I ask.

Emma sighs. “It’s not like I expected us to have any more children. I just?—”

“Don’t like having the option taken away from you?”

Emma nods.

“Em, being a mom is the biggest part of you.”

“You’re the biggest part of me,” she says.

I grin and shake my head. “No. I know how much you love me. Being a mom is the center of your world, Em. It makes me love you even more.” I step back and hold out my hand. “Now, come to bed and let me hold you.”

“Addy?”

“Hm?”

“I wouldn’t be anyone’s mom without you.”

I decide not to argue with Emma’s perspective. If we had never collided, she would have found someone else to build a life with and have children. I am as sure of that as I am confident of my love for her. It wouldn’t be the same family we’ve created together. And without Emma, I doubt I would ever become a mother. Maybe I would have found someone to share my life with, but building a family? No matter what my friends may think, having a family is something I don’t think I could do with anyone else. As we reach the bed, I pull back the covers and guide Emma to lie down. As soon as I join her under the sheets, she falls into my embrace.

“Rest,” I say.

“Addy?”

“Hm?”

Emma props herself up on an elbow to look at me. “I love you more than anything in this world,” she says.

I kiss Emma’s head, hold her close, and say a silent prayer everything will be all right. “I love you, too.”

That was six months ago. Sometimes, it feels like yesterday, and other times, it feels like light years in the past. Thankfully, Emma recovered fully and quickly from surgery. The experience has stayed with her, though. It’s made her think about life. If I had to guess, she’s contemplating what she wants from life in the future. Emma has always accepted the reality that she has a public persona, but she also strives to maintain as much privacy for our family as possible. It’s one reason we decided to move to Kansas. When we built our house, we committed to staying here while the kids were in school. If we did that, it would mean we would be here another fifteen years. Sometimes, things change. I sense a shift in Emma. There’s nothing like a health crisis to make you feel your mortality. I think Emma is ready to take on a new project. She’s accepted a few roles over the last few years—never a lead role or a series. Her roots are in television, and I know she misses it—walking onto a set each morning. But Emma is reluctant to tell me what’s on her mind. That means the ball has landed squarely in my court.

When I walk into the kitchen, Emma is sitting at the table reading a book while Noah and Hannah finish their lunch.

“Hey,” Emma says. “I thought you were working in your office?”

“I need a break.”

Emma’s gaze narrows, and I force myself not to laugh. She’s always been able to read me—as well as she can the book in her hands.

Hannah looks up at me. “Momma?”

“Yes?” I reply.

“Can we go fishing?” Hannah asks.

Noah flashes a bright grin as he munches on a piece of apple, and I hear Emma giggle, knowing I’m easily swayed by grins and requests to go to the pond. “I’ll make you a deal,” I say.

Hannah frowns.

“What?” I ask.

“Vicki makes the deals,” Hannah says.

Emma turns her head to conceal her amusement. Vicki will be nine this year. She’s always been the most vivacious and precocious of our children. And she loves to “wheel and deal.” I think our friend, Jeff, taught her those words.

“Well, I think your sister might enjoy a chance to go to the pond, too,” I tell Hannah. “So, I’ll make you a deal. You and Noah need to pick up the rec room. Then, you can get your fishing poles and the tacklebox ready to go into the car. Get Vicki’s pole, too. We can all surprise her at school and head to the pond. Okay?”

Hannah nods enthusiastically.

“Good,” I tell her. “Would you mind if I borrow Mom for a minute?”

“Borrow me? What is this Blockbuster Video?” Emma asks playfully.

“You’re dating yourself, Em. And that would be a rental.”

Emma raises an eyebrow at me.

I shrug. “Hey, don’t look at me. I made the full purchase years ago.”

Emma’s laughter fills the kitchen, and I chuckle at the confused expressions on our kids’ faces.

“You guys are weird,” Hannah says.

Emma shakes her head. “Please tell me I’m not being led to unearth worms for this fishing excursion.”

“Nah. Your dad has some. I’ll stop there before we go to the pond,” I say. “He’ll probably decide to join us.”

Emma rolls her eyes and takes my hand. She calls her father my enabler. In other words, Tom Bronson enables my love for spending time in nature—and getting dirty.

“Finish your lunch,” Emma tells the kids, letting me lead her from the room. “Addy? What’s going on?” she asks me.

“It’s nothing dire,” I reply.

“Uh-huh.”

“How would you feel about taking a trip with me next week?”

Another raise of Emma’s brow makes me chuckle.

“I thought we might visit Tam and Christie,” I explain.

“Without the kids?” Emma asks.

I nod.

“Okay. Out with it. What’s going on?”

“I want to run an idea by all of you.”

“A project?” Emma asks.

“Maybe.”

“And you want to go to LA to talk to them? Addy, our house is bigger, and neither Tam nor Christie is on a set right now. Why don’t you invite them here?”

Here’s something to know about Emma; she makes sense. Even when the world feels chaotic and senseless, Emma has a way of putting things in perspective. I never considered asking Tam and Christie to come to Kansas.

“Unless there’s some reason you want to go to California,” Emma says.

I sigh. There is, but I don’t want to push toward the end zone when I haven’t even gotten the ball in play yet. “No. Your idea makes sense. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

Emma’s eyes search mine for a moment, and she nods. “You were hoping for some time away from the kids, weren’t you? I know we haven’t spent any time alone since before my surgery.”

“Em.”

Emma smiles. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal, huh?”

“Mm. Interested?”

“What are your terms?” I ask playfully.

“Why don’t you invite Tam and Christie here for Memorial Day weekend? That’s the week after next. Invite Jeff and Sandra, too.”

“Emma, that’s a full house.”

Emma shrugs. “And? You miss them all. So do I. We can look to take a trip together when school ends—just the two of us.”

I nod. “I would love to spend some time alone with you.”

“Me too,” she says. “But I think right now, a visit with our friends is overdue—long overdue.”

I study Emma as she smiles at me. I frequently spend time with Tam in LA. We started a new production company when we settled in Kansas. Jeff was still busy with our second television show, On Screen. I sold him my shares in our production company and formed a new one with Emma and Tamara. It’s been a successful venture, just as Emma predicted. Tam handles things in Los Angeles while I visit every two weeks for four days to attend meetings. Those weeks are never easy for me. I hate being apart from Emma and the kids. Thankfully, I haven’t had to extend my stay often.

While we have yet to launch a series, we've successfully produced TV movies, short films, and a feature film, and we couldn't have done it without Tam. Each of us has a unique skill set. Tam’s a terrific producer on set, but her greatest strength is knowing how to pitch a project and make people see our vision—both the people funding it and the people creating it. Meanwhile, I develop ideas and write treatments and scripts while Emma guides us in choosing which projects to pursue. People in the entertainment industry respect Emma and enjoy working with her. She's not just a closer; she's also the person I trust most with my ideas. Emma knows how to be supportive while bringing out the hidden potential in my stories. In fact, she even wrote an episode for On Screen during its last season when Jeff and his team were struggling to find the right way to close the series. Emma’s acting experience enables her to write characters’ voices and expose emotions in ways that even the best writers sometimes struggle to create. Out of our group, she is the most experienced and level-headed. We make a great team, and I hope we continue to work together for many years. But there are days I miss working with Jeff. I enjoyed working with someone who is a writer first. Something in Emma’s expression tells me she thinks it’s time I reach out to Jeff about working together again.

“You think it’s time Jeff and I worked together again,” I say.

“I don’t know. I think you both miss working together.”

She’s right. Again. “Em, you know it will be chaos with them all here?”

“I’m comfortable with organized chaos. Besides, it’s family. And we haven’t done the best job of making the time to spend with everyone lately.”

“Everyone?”

“Addy, Tam and Christie are our family. So are Jeff and Sandra. Even my mom has asked when Tam plans to visit again.”

My lips curl into a smile. Tamara and I have been best friends since our first year of college. She's more like a sister to me than a friend. What's even funnier is how she and Emma have formed a close bond over the years, almost like sisters themselves. Tam looks up to Emma. More importantly, she lookstoEmma for guidance. Personally, Tam has always been guided by her emotions. Occasionally, that leads to impulsive actions, not reckless ones, but she sometimes acts without fully considering the consequences. Oddly, her emotions can also make her become frozen with indecision from overanalyzing everything. Emma is a keen listener. She doesn’t offer unsolicited advice, and she’s always gentle when she does. That’s something Tam needs. I recognized how much Tam loved Emma early in our relationship. Believe me, I understand. It took me longer to realize how much Tam means to Emma.

Emma’s a nurturer. I’ve known many empathetic people in my life. Emma is incredibly kind. But she’s also forthright. Like I said, I had a terrific Mom. And I see flashes of my mother in the way Emma interacts with our kids. She can discipline them by raising her brow. Hell, she can disciplinemethat way. She seldom raises her voice, and I’ve never seen her raise a hand. She exudes a quiet confidence that’s both alluring and comforting, drawing others toward her. It’s easy to understand why Tam gravitates to Emma as a friend and a mentor.

To Emma, Tam is as much a part of our family as anyone else. One reason is Tam’s protectiveness towards me, which Emma quickly learned in the early days of our relationship. But it goes beyond that. Tam's capacity for love runs deep, whether it be for a friend, a lover, her children, or even a project. She puts her all into everything she cares about. I’ve often considered the phrase, “she would walk through the fires of hell for those she loved,” was written with Tamara in mind. Emma has been burned by friends and lovers in the past. Having a friend like Tamara means the world to her.

“Are you sure you want to entertain the masses?” I ask Emma.

Emma laughs. “What’s the difference between having my brothers and their families here?”

“Uh, Em? As soon as your family finds out we’re having company, they’ll descend on us, too.”

Emma shrugs.

“It’s a lot of people,” I remind her.

A lot of people might be an understatement. I take a moment to perform some math in my head. Emma has two brothers, both of whom have two kids. Tam and Christie have a son named Daniel, who is a month younger than Hannah. Jeff and Sandra have a son named Brody, who is not quite a year older than Vicki, and a daughter named Bailey, who is the same age as Hannah and Daniel. Add that to our three, throw in Emma’s folks, and we’ll have thirty-two people in our home! My jaw must be hanging open because Emma’s brow is raised, and she’s smirking at me.

“Just realizing how much our family has grown?” Emma asks.

“Em—”

“I’m sure you’re right. Everyone will want the chance to catch up. And God knows, the kids will want a chance to play together. It’s a holiday meant for barbeques and get-togethers,” Emma says. “Isn’t that why we moved here? To have space from our public life and space for our family?”

“Are you sure you are up to this?” I ask.

“Up to it? I feel great.”

I nod.

Emma smiles. “I know I’ve struggled a little the last few months to accept everything. I told you I never expected to have more children. But growing our family has been the most amazing part of my life, Addy. I guess a little part of me thought—maybe—maybe we would decide to try for one more. That’s even more reason I want everyone here.”

“You’re the boss.”

“If only.”

“Okay, most days, Vicki is the boss,” I admit.

Emma laughs. “She does take pride in being the older sister. She misses Tam, Addy, and she misses Brody.”

“I know.”

“I miss them all, too.”

Sometimes, when you love someone deeply, it’s hard to see them objectively. It’s like wearing rose-colored glasses that make everything appear perfect. But after living with Emma for so many years, I’ve learned to see her flaws and worries more clearly. We have a deep understanding of each other and can sense when something is bothering the other. I’m unsure if she’s reluctant to tell me what she feels or if she hasn’t figured out what she wants to say.

As Noah becomes more independent, Emma grows increasingly restless. We’re both thankful to have her family living nearby because it allows our children to have a close relationship with their grandparents. But our family extends beyond the borders of Kansas. As she talks about the coming holiday, I realize Emma longs for more than the busy atmosphere of a film set. I sense a change on our horizon. Maybe having everyone in one place will give us the clarity to determine what we should do or where we should go.Perhaps it willprovide me with the courage to broach the topic with Emma.

I lean close to Emma and kiss her cheek. “Do you want to make the calls?” I ask.

“I’ll make the calls. One condition.”

“Which is?”

“Bring dinner home after you go fishing.”

“What if we don’t catch anything?”

Emma laughs. “I have no desire to cook anything from the pond. You can do that with Dad. Pizza, Addy. Or you and Vicki can make macaroni and cheese for dinner.”

“Okay.”

“Good,” Emma says, placing a kiss on my lips. “And, Addy?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make Vicki bait all the hooks,” Emma says as she walks away.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my children’s amusement with my aversion to baiting a hook. As we sit by the pond, Vicki hands me a wriggling worm and asks if I need help. Memories of being taken fishing and hunting as a child flood back. I recall the feeling of unease in my stomach when it came time to kill our catch. I was much more content observing the deer grazing on the outskirts of the forest or watching the fish swim in the river than I was taking part in their demise. My father would reason if I could eat a burger or chicken without flinching, I should have no issue with hunting and fishing. But even then, I couldn’t shake off my discomfort with taking a life—even of the wriggling worm.

Vicki has spent countless afternoons at the pond with her grandfather. She takes pride in her ability to hook a worm and enjoys seeing me squirm at the sight. Hannah, on the other hand, has no interest in fishing. She prefers searching for frogs and turtles on the shore, gathering flowers, or collecting shiny rocks. And then there’s Noah, only three years old and captivated by every creature he encounters—whether they have fur, feathers, legs, or scales—it doesn’t matter to him. He considers them all his best friends.

My mind wanders to Emma and the simplicity of our life together here. Vicki understands her mother is a celebrity, although she still believes Disney princesses are more famous. She recently asked why Emma wasn't in Star Wars. It was hard for me not to laugh when Vicki declared Emma would be "the most famous" if she played a princess. Vicki has developed a fondness for Princess Leia thanks to Emma's brother Jackson, though she's equally enamored with Han Solo. I told Emma her star would almost certainly rise with Vicki if she carried a blaster on screen or piloted a spaceship. Emma gave her standard response, "Write it, and we'll talk."

Hannah and Noah have led relatively sheltered lives away from the spotlight of Emma's career. People here know their mom as Emmie, not Emma Bronson Blake or an Emmy award-winning actress. If we were to move back to Los Angeles, our kids would inevitably have more exposure to the world of Hollywood and make-believe. A major project like a television show would bring even more attention to Emma, and I know she worries about navigating that with our children. The projects she's taken on in recent years have been fulfilling but also allowed her to remain largely out of the limelight. However, the project I have in mind would put Emma squarely back in the spotlight—if I can get it off the ground. I'm not sure how she'll feel about that possibility.

“Addy?”

I turn to my father-in-law with a smile. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I know worms on hooks aren’t you’re thing,” Tom teases me.

I chuckle.

“Something tells me it’s not the worms on your mind,” he says.

“Not the worms—this is, though.”

“This?”

“Being here,” I say. “Just being here,” I whisper.

Tom nods. “Let’s sit on the rock and watch the kids.”

I follow him a few feet away from the water’s edge and sit beside him on a large rock. Emma calls it the frog rock. It doesn’t look anything like a frog to me. I guess it did to her when she was Hannah’s age.

“You know, everyone will understand if you decide to go back to California,” Tom says.

My surprise must show because he chuckles.

“Come on, Addy. You and Emma didn’t believe you could hide here forever, did you?”

“I don’t think we’re hiding,” I reply.

“What would you call it?”

“Finding normalcy, I guess.”

“Normal is different for everyone,” Tom says.

I chuckle. My father-in-law is a plain-spoken man whose words hold more wisdom than the ones I’ve read in many philosophy books.

“We’ll miss you,” he tells me.

“I don’t know if we are going anywhere, Tom.”

“No? I think we all know it’s inevitable. Emmie thinks she has to choose, Addy. She’s always been that way. It’s why she left here and only came home for the holidays and special occasions until she met you. You reminded her there’s more to life than auditions, magazine covers, and award shows.”

I shake my head. “No. Emma has always understood that.”

Tom tilts his head curiously.

“That’s why she stayed away—if I had to guess. It always makes her feel torn. I don’t think Em is hiding from her career. She misses it. I feel it. I think we all do.” I sigh. “But she isn’t lying when she says the kids mean more to her than her career—this—being with family is the most important thing in her world. I think she worries about what the kids might be exposed to if we move back. And I worry, too.”

“Nothing anyone says about either of you will change how the kids see you.”

“Maybe not now,” I say. “That isn’t what worries me, though.”

“So? What is it?”

“It is simpler here,” I tell him.

“You mean safer.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever lived in a city. Seems to me there are more problems because there are more people,” Tom says.

Not for the first time, I’m struck by his wisdom. “True.”

“There will be challenges no matter where you live,” he continues. “I guess the question is where you can both be happy.”

“I think where the kids will be happy is the biggest consideration for us both,” I say.

“I’m sure that’s true. The kids will be happy, Addison, if you and Emma are happy. Don’t make that mistake.”

I tip my head.

“Don’t think you’re putting them first by denying yourselves what makes you happy. Not that anyplace will be perfect, or you’ll ever be happy at every moment.”

True.

“But you can’t put your passions aside. Sherry and me? We loved it here. It wasn’t always a picnic. Believe me. Being so close to our parents came with its fair share of stress. And being where everyone has known you since before you were born might seem like some kind of idyllic fantasy. It has more ups than downs. But it also comes with its baggage.”

I sigh heavily. Everything Tom says is true. It’s part of the reason Emma is restless. She is Emmie Bronson, but she’s also Emma Bronson Blake.

“You’ll figure it out,” Tom says.

“I hope so.”

“You will. Isn’t that why you invited everyone here for Memorial Day?”

“That was Em’s idea.”

“Mm.”

“Tom?”

“Yep?”

“Sometimes, I wish we could be in two places at once.”

Tom laughs. “Don’t we all, Addy? Don’t we all.”