3. Addison
CHAPTER THREE
It’s rare for something to leave me speechless.
Tamara interrupts my thoughts. “Addy?”
“I’m sorry, Tam. That’s amazing news,” I reply.
Tamara’s newsisfantastic. Christie is an incredibly talented actor. Underneath my shock and fear, I’m thrilled for her to land a new project. And landing a James Reynolds show is a big deal. The man seems to have the Midas touch, literally turning everything he touches into gold. Sometimes, I envy people like Jim Reynolds. He started as a television show staff writer and moved into producing. He learned the ropes of TV—what makes an audience tick and what makes a network drool over a project. I give the man credit. He’s launched four police procedural shows and three medical dramas in the last fifteen years. Though I may find them redundant, every show has become wildly popular. I’ve met him a few times. He loved Emma’s first show, Found, and remains a big fan of hers.
“Addy,” Tamara addresses me cautiously. “We didn’t expect this.”
“I’m happy for Christie. Honestly. I just—Does this mean you want to leave the company?”
“What?” Tamara asks. “No. But I don’t know how it will work with me on the East Coast.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. My head is starting to throb, so I close my eyes, hoping to ease the ache.
“Addy? I know this isn’t what any of us planned. You seem—What’s going on?”
I open my eyes slowly and offer Tamara a smile. “I’m sorry, Tam. I guess I have a lot on my mind.”
“Well, Christie is home with Daniel. Why don’t we hit the beach? Have a cocktail—or a dozen?”
“A dozen?”
“Hey, I know how to get an Uber and a Lyft,” Tamara says. “I don’t have a curfew, and neither do you.”
“We should go back to the house to see Chris.”
“Nah. You can see Chris later—or even tomorrow. She’ll understand. I’ll wager she already called Em.”
“Safe bet,” I agree.
“Come on. When was the last time we sat by the water and had drinks without our wives or kids in tow?”
Simple things remind me why Tamara is my best friend and also why she’s so successful at pitching projects to studios and networks. She can read a room. What I need most right now is an escape—just a few hours. I wanted to share my idea for a new show with Tam and Christie. I hoped Christie would be open to teaming up with Emma on a project. They’ve been friends since before either of them got their first acting gig. They have not worked together meaningfully because of timing constraints. As Jeff and I embarked on the spin-off to Off Screen, Emma decided not to be part of the project and instead recommended Christie for the co-starring role. As usual, Em’s instincts were spot-on.On Screenhad a successful four-year stint, and Christie received two Emmy nominations. But I know both Christie and Emma were disappointed they didn’t get to share the screen.
Domesticateddiffers entirely from anything I’ve created. Emma has always told me I should write a comedy. My writing always includes comedic moments, but my projects are considered dramas. This show is a dramedy. That’s how I would describe it. It has moments of tension and pain but approaches life with laughter. I think that’s something we all need these days. It also has a larger cast of regular characters than my other shows. I had thought Christie would be the perfect choice to play the best friend of the show’s main character, Emma. Yes, I know. I named the character after Em. The truth is, this character’s life and experience are nothing like Emma’s. I know my wife—and I know this is a role she would love to sink her teeth into. Collaborating with Christie and creating something together would have thrilled Emma. I’m sure of it.
“We’re hitting the beach,” Tamara says.
“Tam.”
“No way. You have that look.”
“What look?” I ask.
Tamara points at me. “That one.”
I shake my head.
“The one that says, I've fallen in love with a straight girl—again.”
I burst out laughing. “I think we both know I haven’t fallen in love with any girls lately—straight or otherwise.”
“Mm. But that’s the look. The one you had when the souffle you tried to make for Emma turned into a moon crater.”
“That worked out in the end,” I say.
“Okay. The one when you unwrapped the biggest box under the tree only to find it was a pooper scooper.”
I stare at Tamara for a second and burst into laughter. That happened a few years ago. Emma wrapped this giant box in the most beautiful paper I’ve ever seen and slapped a big metallic bow on it. I couldn’t wait to open it. I still remember the way her brow arched in amusement when I pulled out a pooper scooper. “King is the gift that keeps on giving, Addy,” she said. “All over the yard.”
And Emma thinks I should write comedy?
“See? I know that look,” Tamara says. “Emma’s not here to stroke your?—”
I tip my head.
“Not that! Ew! Addy! I don’t want to think about what Emma strokes.”
I snigger. “You said it, not me.”
“My point is, she’s not here to nurse your ego or your feelings, or you're—well—whatever it is that has you in pooper scooper mode. All I have is liquor.”
Tamara is joking—to a point. She’s always underestimated how much I rely on her for support and encouragement. When we moved to Los Angeles, spending time at the beach in Malibu or driving down Pacific Coast Highway became a staple for us. We’d search for a perfect spot to have tacos and margaritas, the warm breeze gently rustling the palm trees as we commiserated about our fledgling careers and lackluster love lives. Frustration was a constant companion for us, two na?ve dreamers who couldn’t seem to overcome the roadblocks that littered our path.
Tamara has always been the one to push me out of my comfort zone. She’s the reason I crossed paths with Emma. If Tam hadn't insisted on attending the writers' event and dragging me along, I might never have met Emma.
“Addy?”
“Huh?”
“You disappeared for a minute.”
“Sorry. The beach sounds great.”
Tamara looks at me like I’ve grown a head, and I giggle. “
The beach was your idea,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but you usually balk at my ideas.”
Tam’s teasing me, but there is an underlying tinge of hurt to her comment. I know that. I realize I have often resisted Tam’s suggestions over the years. Whether I resist or not, her ideas almost always prove to be exactly what I need. But I also know that most people who know us view me as the more rational person, and Tam as impulsive. She can be impulsive, but Tamara has never been reckless. The older we get, the more I see what Emma has always understood about me and Tam. We balance each other. I sigh.
“Addy, if you really don’t want to go to the beach?—”
“It’s not that,” I reply. “I guess I realize how much I miss this—us being close.” I expect Tam to roll her eyes and drag me through the door. Her response takes me by surprise.
“Yeah, me, too,” Tamara says. “I wish we could move Kansas next to Boston and drag LA along.”
I nod. “I think we should call an Uber.”
Tam grins. “I’ll let Chris know we’ll be late,” she says.
“Probably a good idea.”
It’s late when I finally crawl into bed to call Emma. “Hi.”
“Addy?”
“Sorry, it’s late.”
“Did you have a good time at the beach?” Emma asks.
“How did you know I was at the beach?”
“I talked to Chris this afternoon.”
“Oh,” I say. “Em?”
“What, love?”
“I miss Tam.”
“I know you do, Addy. I miss Tam and Christie, too.”
“You do?”
“Of course.”
I sigh.
“We’ll talk about everything when you get home,” Emma says. “Something tells me you might need to spend some quiet time tomorrow with your friends Tylenol and water.”
I chuckle. I’ve never been much of a drinker, so it doesn’t require much for me to sport a hangover. “I didn’t drink that many margaritas.” I unconsciously sigh again. “Boston? Geez, Em. My dad will see Tam more than me.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
I grumble. “I’m happy for them—for Christie. I just—it’s so far.”
“Mm. Well, Vicki reminded me today it’s only a plane ride—which is the same as it is now.”
“You told Vicki about their move?”
“I hadn’t planned to say anything to the kids. Vicki is intuitive, Addy. You know that.”
“How did she take it?” I ask.
“Better than either of us. Be prepared for her to make a compelling argument for us to move to Boston."
I chuckle. Of all our kids, Vicki is the closest to Tamara and Christie. Tam loves Vicki as much as Vicki adores her. I think a big part of the reason Tam wanted children with Christie is because she’s so close to Vicki. Their unique connection can still surprise me. If I’m honest, Vicki reminds me a lot of Tamara. She isn’t fearless, but she is adventurous and strong-willed. Sometimes, her daring nature makes me anxious, but Vicki has always been eager to immerse herself in adventure. I recognized it when she was a baby, and Emma would take her into the pool. Vicki loved it when Emma would blow gently in her face and dunk her quickly under the water. She would push with all her might against Emma’s legs to try to break free from Emma’s grasp.
Vicki has been like that with nearly every new thing she’s tried. Believe me, she’s had more than a few skinned knees and bruised elbows, but she always gets right back up and tries again. Sherry says Emma was similar when she was a child. That doesn’t surprise me. Emma is determined and competitive. And there’s no way she would let her brothers show her up by doing something she couldn’t do. I see reflections of Emma in all our children. It leaves me wondering how Emma is feeling about Tam and Christie’s move.
“Em?”
“Get some rest, Addy. Enjoy the next few days with Tam. We’ll talk about everything when you get home.”
“Everything?”
Emma giggles. “Go to sleep, Addy.”
“I miss you, Em.”
“I miss you, too.”
“You do?”
“Always,” Emma says. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Emma tells me. “Sleep.”
“Morning,” Christie says.
“Hi, Chris.”
“Headache?” she asks.
“No. I think Tam might have one when she gets up, though.”
Christie nods, pours me a cup of coffee, and slides it across the breakfast bar. “You look like you could use that,” she says.
“I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I’m excited for you.”
“I know you are. But you were hoping we might all work together.”
“Did Emma say something?” I ask.
“She told me a little about the new project you’ve been developing.”
“More like outlining,” I say. “I left a rough pilot script with Em. But it’s just a concept.”
I watch as Christie brings the mug in her hands to her lips and peers at me over the edge as she sips.
“What?” I ask.
Christie slowly sets the mug on the counter and sighs. “Addison, I know you well enough to know you don’t give Emma anything to review unless it’s a project you want to develop.”
I huff.
“Or to tell her something you’re afraid to say. Emma knows that, too.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Why don’t you tell Emma what you want?” Christie asks.
“Because I’m not sure what I want.”
Christie nods.
“Chris, it’s true. I love living in Kansas.”
“But you also miss working with Emma. I don’t mean debating what ideas should become films, either. You miss writing for Emma—seeing Emma on a set.”
I collapse my face in my hands with a sigh.
“She misses that, too,” Christie says.
“I know.” I look back at Christie and shake my head. “Em misses being on a set. More than that, she misses being around people who understand her.”
“Addy, just because we’re moving to New England doesn’t mean you and Emma can’t come back to California. You both have loads of friends here. Jeff and Sandra would be deliriously happy if you lived closer.”
“Yeah. Maybe so. I’m not sure that would be enough to sway Emma to make that big of a move.”
“Do you realize how much she loves you?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question, Addy. Do you realize how much Emma loves you?’
“Well, I?—”
Christie chuckles. “You know, you remind me of Tam sometimes.”
“Me?”
“Mm. She often fails to grasp that I love her as much as she loves me and that you and Emma love her as much as she loves you. Maybe you should tell Emma how you feel.”
“That’s it, Chris. I don’t know. I mean, I know how much she loves me—I do. I’m not restless. I know you and Tam both think I am. Work pulls me away. I spend more time with you and Tam than Emma has in a few years. Don’t misunderstand me. She loves being near her folks and Jackson. But I can feel it—Em’s restlessness. The kids are getting bigger—and more independent. Even Noah likes to go his own way.”
“I think that happens when kids have older siblings.”
“Yeah. See, I didn’t have siblings. But it was Em’s life as a kid.” I sigh. “Me? I’d love to live somewhere quiet for the rest of my life.”
“But?”
“I miss Em when I’m in LA, and I miss everyone in LA when I’m in Kansas.”
“And?” Christie asks.
“I miss working with Em. I admit it.”
Christie reaches across the breakfast bar and squeezes my hand. “So, you are a little restless.”
I chuckle. “I guess I am.”
“Addy, if I had to make a bet, I would wager you’re right about Emma. She hasn’t said anything to me about wanting to move back to LA. But I know working is on her mind. We’ve always been a little different—me and Em. I don’t think I could step back as far as she has from acting. For her, it’s a difficult balancing act. She’s torn.”
“I know.”
“I’ve always admired you and Emma.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ve heard the way people who don’t know you talk,” Christie replies. “I realize your marriage isn’t perfect. No one’s is. Don’t tell Tam I said that.”
I laugh.
“But we both know it’s true,” Christie continues. “You and Emma have always worked well together—not only on a set or a project.” She smiles at me. “I do recall a couple of times when you weren’t communicating well at all about what you needed and wanted from each other.”
Christie and Tam saw the highs and lows of the early days of my relationship with Emma. Our first year together was filled with both incredible moments and significant frustrations. Emma hesitated to introduce me to her professional life, fearing it might overwhelm or negatively impact me. I worried our relationship could damage her career, so I also held back. By the end of that year, we were each secretly considering marriage but kept it from one another. A series of misunderstandings—or perhaps more accurately, misinterpretations—caused us both unnecessary stress and heartache. In the end, it resulted in me proposing during a heated debate about marriage—not quite the romantic moment I’d pictured.
I massage my eyes and groan. Christie is right. I need to talk to Emma and lay all my cards on the table. As much as people close to me think they understand me, they often fail to understand Emma is the center of my world. There isn’t anything or anyone I love more in my life than Em. And maybe, even after all this time, some tiny part of me fears losing her.
“Addy?”
“Sorry. You’re right,” I tell Christie. “I know I need to talk to her.”
“Mm. You’ll figure it out once you let her help,” Christies says. “Stop trying to devise a plan, Addy—or an argument. Just tell Emma what’s on your mind.”
“You know, if you ever decide to leave acting, you might consider therapy,” I say.
Christie’s eyes pop wide.
“I meant as a therapist—not to see one,” I tell her.
“Well, that’s good. I spend enough on Merlot and Malbec already,” Christie says.
We both laugh.
“Thanks, Chris.”
“Advice is free—for now,” she quips.
I chuckle and lift my coffee.
“This is fantastic,” Tamara tells me.
I hadn’t planned to share everything I’ve drafted for Domesticated with Tam on this trip. I could tell by the tone in Emma’s voice last night that she’d read what I left her. After my talk with Christie this morning, I decided to bounce the idea off Tam.
“Thanks,” I say. “We both know that doesn’t guarantee any deep pockets will agree.”
Tamara laughs. “There aren’t many deep pockets left in this town.”
That’s the truth as ever I heard it.
Tamara pushes the packet I gave her aside and takes a deep breath. “You were hoping Christie would sign on to this one, weren’t you?”
I shrug.
“That’s what I thought.” Tamara scratches her brow. “Pretty sure she would jump at the chance to work with Emma.”
“Yeah. I know Emma would love to work with her, too.”
“You’re not thinking of tabling this because we’re headed to Boston, are you?” Tamara asks.
I sigh.
“Addy, no way. No way.”
“Tam, it?—”
“It’s the best I’ve seen from you since you created Off Screen.”
Before I can respond, Tamara continues.
“And you’ve written some great stuff,” Tamara says. “This is different. It feels different. You can’t set this one aside, Addy. Emma will be itching to sink her teeth into this role.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say.
“I do. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like I sprouted another head.”
I laugh.
“Don’t hold this back, Addison,” Tamara says.
“Tam, this is designed to be a traditional network show. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I flop my head into my hands.
“You weren’t thinking.”
My head pops up.
“You were feeling,” Tamara tells me. “That’s when you’re at your best, Addy. You didn’t try to think up a story. It found you. No one brings that out from you the way Emma can.”
“I know, but?—”
“You and Emma have a connection I envy.”
“Tam, you have a terrific marriage.”
“Yep. I do,” Tamara says. “And I’m not sure I would if it weren’t for you and Emma.”
“Tam.”
“Just listen for a minute. You say you never would have met Emma without me. I could say I never would have met Chris without you and Em. Neither of us knows if that’s true. Things happened the way they did, and we both found someone who will put up with us.”
I shake my head and giggle.
“You know I’m right. They have a lot more to put up with from us than we ever will need to deal with from them.”
There’s no point in arguing. Tamara is right.
“Mm. We both know it,” Tamara says. “It took me a while to realize you knew Emma was in love with you when you wrote Off Screen.”
“No. I didn’t. I hoped.”
“Nope. You knew. You felt it. I’ll buy you were scared shitless she’d never admit how she felt. But you knew because you felt it. That’s why you wrote Off Screen, right?”
I nod. “That was a different time,” I say. “Our lives were?—"
Tamara holds up a hand. “I get it, Addy. You wrote this for Emma. Maybe she’ll surprise me and she’ll tell you she wants no part of it. I think you know better than that.”
“I don’t doubt Em will want to do it. But I'm not sure she’ll be willing to do it, Tam.”
“And you think Christie’s signing on would change that?” Tamara shakes her head. “Come on, Addy. You don’t need to sweeten the deal with Emma.”
“I don’t have a deal with Emma.”
“No. You don’t. What do you want?” Tamara asks me.
“What do you mean?”
“You graduated Summa Cum Laude. This isn’t a hard question for you. What do you want, Addy?”
“I want to make the show with Em.”
“And?”
“And?”
“And do you want to move to LA to do it?” Tamara asks.
“No. Maybe.” I groan. “I did.”
Tamara flops back in her chair. “You can’t make me and Chris your reason to hold back.”
“Tam, maybe you’re right about the fact that I can sense what Emma feels. But you’re missing something about this project.”
“What am I missing?”
“It’s also about us—you, me, Chris, and Em—about our friendships.”
Tamara smiles at me. “I know, Addy.”
“You do?”
“I know you. Maybe there’s a way to make it all come together.”
I wish I could see a solution. “I don’t know.”
“Well, don’t set it on a shelf because you’ve climbed so far into your head you can see out your eyeballs.”
That did it. I burst out laughing. I often think Tam should be a writer. She offers some of the most colorful visuals I’ve ever heard.
Tamara shrugs. “Don’t do it, Addy.”
I nod. I’ll try.