Scene Change

by J. A. Armstrong

  “Well, because we want to spend a little time together.”

  “Without me?”

  “You like to spend time at Grandma’s without us,” Addison said.

  Vicki shook her head.

  “You don’t like to go to Grandma’s?”

  “That’s Grandma.”

  “And that makes it different, huh?”

  “It’s home.”

  “I guess it is home,” Addison agreed. “But you get to spend time with Grandma and Grandpa, and Evan and Andrew without me and Mommy there. It’s kind of the same thing.”

  “But you’re moms.”

  “Yes, we are.” Addison wondered how she could explain to a four-year-old that moms are also people. “Sometimes, moms need a little time to be who they were before you came along.”

  Vicki wrinkled her nose. That made zero sense.

  Addison laughed. “Someday, Sprout, you will understand.”

  “Can we come?”

  “Not this time,” Addison said. “But I did hear that Auntie Tam is planning on taking you and Hannah to the Science Museum on Thursday. That’s the day after tomorrow.”

  Vicki brightened.

  “We will be home Friday afternoon, and on Saturday, we’re going to barbecue.”

  “With Grandma?”

  “Yes, and Auntie Tam and Christie. Jeff and Sandra will be here with Brody too.”

  “The whole family?”

  Addison’s heart warmed. “The whole family.”

  “But, Momma?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you call?”

  “Every day, Vicki. Mommy and I will call you every day, and you can call whenever you want. That is something that will never change. Okay?”

  “Are you going to Disney?”

  “Not without you.”

  “Kay!” Vicki hopped off the couch and took off calling for her sister. “Hannah! They’re not going to Disney!”

  Addison laughed. Hannah was two; she had no idea what her older sister was talking about. Apparently, Vicki’s greatest worry about her parents’ departure was that they might visit Mickey Mouse without her. “Figures,” Addison mumbled.

  “What figures?” Emma inquired when she entered the room. “What’s Vicki screaming about?”

  “You didn’t hear what she said?”

  “No, I was in the laundry room.”

  “She was worried that we might head over to Never Never Land without her.”

  Emma shook her head.

  “She came to ask me why we were leaving without her. I thought she was upset about us leaving because she would miss us. Turns about she was worried we might make the trip to Disney without her.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “She’s yours.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Emma sniggered. “Exactly what I said, love. I’m going to help Mom with dinner.”

  “Hey, Em?”

  “Hum?”

  “We’re not; are we?”

  “Not what?”

  “Going to Disney.”

  Emma shrugged and walked out of the room.

  “No. She wouldn’t—Emma!”

  ***

  THE NEXT MORNING

  “Emma?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Um? Where are we going?”

  “I thought we’d stop for coffee on our way.”

  “A mile from our house?” Addison questioned.

  “I thought we would start this trip where we became Addy and Emma.”

  “The café.”

  “The café,” Emma said.

  “And you call me a romantic.”

  “You are.”

  “So, what do you say? Coffee date?”

  “No work talk; right?”

  “No talk about work, kids, or moving,” Emma said. “For the next hour.”

  “What will we talk about?”

  Emma laughed. “That is the point.”

  “Who’s buying?” Addison teased.

  “Well, since I made the invitation, your coffee is on me.”

  Addison snickered.

  “What’s funny?”

  “I was just thinking that it was your coffee on me that landed us here in the first place.”

  “I’ve never been so grateful to be clumsy,” Emma said. She opened her car door. “Are you ready, Ms. Blake?”

  Addison played along. “Lead the way, Ms. Bronson.”

  ***

  Emma walked out onto the front porch and sat down beside Addison on the steps. “Disappointed that there are no rides or costumed characters?”

  “Not even a little bit—maybe just a tiny bit that there’s no junk food.”

  “Who says there’s no junk food?”

  “You brought junk food?” Addison asked.

  “I may have a few surprises.”

  “I’ll bet.” Addison looked out at the mountains and took a deep breath. “I admit that I’m a little surprised you didn’t choose the beach.”

  Emma had considered a coastal getaway. She wouldn’t deny that one of the things she would miss about living in Los Angeles was the closeness of the ocean. Emma wanted seclusion. She wanted to wake up with Addison, sit on a big porch, and sip morning tea and coffee together. It had been a short ride to Big Bear Lake. The cabin Emma rented was secluded and quiet. Once they had put away their bags, Emma had led Addison on a walk by the water. There were few people to be seen. It was cool, but not cold. They could see avid skiers on the slopes from their porch. No natural snow remained on the ground near the cabin. The man-made slopes still beckoned skiers from near and far. Emma noted the faraway look in Addison’s eyes as she gazed out at the mountain. “Why don’t you make a few runs tomorrow?” she suggested.

  “What?”

  “Skiing. Why don’t we head over there in the morning?”

  “Emma, you can’t ski right now.”

  “No, but you can.”

  “This is our time—together.”

  “I would be happy to sit in the lodge and read while you make a few runs.”

  “Em, I can’t ask you to—”

  “Stop. Let’s do it. A few hours. Then we can have lunch together and come back here for the evening.”

  “I thought you wanted us to—”

  “I want us to have some time to be Addy and Emma.”

  Addison reached over and took Emma’s hand. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Addy.”

  ***

  “Tired?” Addy asked.

  Emma’s only reply was a smile.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Emma?”

  “I’m okay. Just tired.”

  Addison was doubtful.

  “Addy,” Emma began. “I promise you; I’m all right. The driving gave me a headache. That, and a lack of sleep last night.”

  “Let’s cancel the skiing idea.”

  “No.”

  “Emma—”

  “Just hold me,” Emma requested. “Let me get a little rest. I’ll be fine by morning.”

  “You need to tell me if you aren’t up to—”

  “Shh,” Emma cooed. “Where is all this worry coming from?”

  “I know you. I can tell something is wrong.”

  “Yes, my head feels like Vicki and Hannah are taking dance lessons in it.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  Emma complied.

  “I love you so much, Em. Don’t ask me not to worry when I can tell something is bothering you.”

  Emma held onto Addison. “I know, love. I really will be okay. Besides, I think it should be me who is worried.”

  “Why?”

  “You can trip and fall in our bedroom. Skis?”

  Addison giggled. “Not going to live that one down, am I?”

  “Forgotten,” Emma said.

  “For now,” Addison quipped.

  “Something like that.”

  “Goodnight, Em.” Addison looked
down at Emma. Less than a minute and you’re asleep. I think it’s time I devised a plan of my own.

  ***

  Emma woke and stretched. She said a silent prayer that sleep would manage to banish her headache. She opened her eyes slowly and was relieved to find that the pressure in her temples had abated. Thank God. She’d suffered a few migraines, but it had been years since she recalled facing anything like she had the previous night. She let her eyes close again and rolled to hug Addison’s pillow. “Get yourself together, Emmie,” she said. “Time to get up.”

  “Why?” Addison asked.

  Emma pried one eye open and spied Addison standing in front of the bed with a tray.

  “I thought we were going skiing?”

  “I thought you could use a quiet day,” Addison countered.

  Emma sat up and narrowed her gaze. “I’m fine this morning, love.”

  “I’m glad.” Addison placed the tray on Emma’s legs.

  “Breakfast in bed?”

  Addison sat on the edge of the bed. “You know, I realized after you fell asleep that the last time I did this was Mother’s Day.”

  “Those were some creative pancakes.”

  Addison laughed. “Vicki can make an art project out of anything. I’m sorry, Em.”

  “Sorry? For making me breakfast in bed? What’s in these eggs? Should I be scared?”

  “I’m serious.”

  Emma sighed. “What is this about?”

  “No wonder you had a headache. I’ve been making all these plans for us—for all of us. I’ve been running to the office, then to the studio, up late, out of the house early—”

  “Addy—”

  “Let me finish. You’ve taken care of everything that matters.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is, Em.”

  “Addison, it isn’t. You’re always there for me and the girls.”

  “If anything, last night reminded me why I want to make changes. I don’t like seeing you in pain. You even planned this getaway.” Addison threw her head back with frustration. “We get here, and you immediately want to do more for me.”

  Emma removed the tray from her lap and set it on the bed beside her. She reached for Addison’s hands and held them tenderly. “Stop this. Please. You are so hard on yourself, Addy. You always have been. It tears me apart sometimes to watch.”

  “I don’t want to let you down.”

  “You aren’t your father, Addy. And, look how far he’s come.” Emma squeezed Addison’s hands and smiled. “You’re more than my wife, you know? You’re my best friend.”

  “And you’re mine,” Addison said. “I think a quiet day with my best friend is exactly what I need.”

  Emma sighed.

  “I don’t need to ski,” Addison said. “I would love to—I would. Not today.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. In fact, I thought we should talk about a new arrangement.”

  “Arrangement?”

  “Yeah. Similar to the one we had when we met.”

  “You want to have coffee every week?”

  Addison laughed. “I’d like to have coffee every hour.”

  “Cute. I meant with me.”

  “I thought something a little different.”

  “I’m listening,” Emma replied.

  Addison placed the tray back onto Emma’s lap. “Eat your breakfast and I’ll tell you about my idea.”

  Emma narrowed her gaze and studied Addison. She understood that most people acted as their own worst critic. Addison took that to a new level at times. There were moments when Addison’s self-admonishment or self-deprivation frustrated Emma. More often, it concerned Emma. Loss had shaped Addison’s view of relationships and her role in those relationships. They had argued plenty over the years they had been together. Those disagreements seldom lingered. When Emma and Addison did have a difference of opinion or a misunderstanding, Addison was quick to blame herself. She could be the same way at work, and it took a toll on the writer. Emma wouldn’t deny that the last year was challenging at times. Addison was consumed with producing On Screen, Emma was dealing with the ups and downs of trying to conceive, and simultaneously attempting to supervise, instruct, entertain, and provide the everyday necessities for two toddlers. There were days when Addison was gone before the sun came up. And there were many nights when Emma would place Addison’s dinner in a container, clean the kitchen, bathe the girls, and put them to bed before Addison would walk through the door. Emma had never felt neglected, and neither had their daughters. Admittedly, there were a few times she wished Addison was home to help. She never resented Addison’s work nor her absences. She missed Addison. It was that simple. She sipped from the glass of orange juice on her tray and listened as Addison continued.

  “Last night made me realize that moving to Kansas is what we all need. At least, it is for now.”

  Emma smiled.

  “It also got me thinking. There are some things I haven’t told you.”

  “Go on.”

  “Em—I,” Addison faltered.

  Emma reached out and squeezed her hand. “You can tell me anything.”

  “It’s nothing dire,” Addison replied. “I’ve had so many late nights this last year.”

  Emma’s eyes fell to the tray.

  Addison shook her head. Emma never said that she was lonely. How could anyone be lonely with Vicki and Hannah underfoot? Addison suspected that Emma was lonely. Emma’s reaction to her observation served as confirmation. “Em,” Addison addressed her wife. “A lot of those days were because I couldn’t concentrate.”

  Emma looked back at Addison curiously.

  “I can’t tell you how many afternoons I almost left everything just as it was on my desk and came home. I made a commitment to Jeff when we launched the show. I don’t know—I’ve struggled all year to write the characters.”

  Emma was shocked. She’d helped Addison pen two episodes for season two. Emma had read every outline and every script that Addison had written. She’s never detected evidence that Addison struggled to find the character’s voices. “Addy?”

  “It’s the truth. You don’t know how much it helped to have you write those episodes.”

  “I didn’t write them. We wrote them.”

  “No. I made tweaks. I gave you the season outline. You wrote the episodes, Em. And you did it juggling the kids, the house, and me.” Addison chuckled. “I sat at my desk with nothing else I had to accomplish in a day, and I couldn’t manage to type a page.”

  “Addy—”

  “It’s the truth.” Addison shook her head. “It’s how I know I need to step away. I know—I do know that there will come a time when we work on different projects. We both know that. You don’t believe me when I tell you this, but everything changed for me when we met. It’s like a light got turned on inside of me. Suddenly, I could do more than just think up an interesting story. I could feel the story. I realized a long time ago, that’s why I failed to sell anything before Off Screen. The mechanics were all there, but the soul? That was missing. Until you.”

  “I am not the reason you are a wonderful writer,” Emma disagreed.

  “Maybe not completely. You have a bigger hand in what comes out of me than you think you do. I suspect that’s true for a lot of writers. Maybe for some people it’s hiking or it’s sailing. For others, it might be traveling or even meditating that opens the gates. For me, it’s you. Like a key.”

  Emma shook her head. “No. Before you tell me why you are wrong; I want you to listen. I do understand, Addison. You don’t remember how tired I was when we met—how torn.”

  “I remember.”

  “I needed a change. I didn’t know the change I needed was loving you.”

  “Em—”

  “Addy, I understand what we are to each other. Believe me; I do. You’re right. You were a key to unlock so much in my life and my heart. You challenged me to let go of all the chatter in my head—the arguments I had
with myself on a daily basis. I wanted to argue against us.”

  “I remember.”

  “I couldn’t. That made me a better actor in a lot of ways. I could feel everything. Me. Not me as a character. Emma. So, I do understand what you’re saying. I think life happens. I wouldn’t trade a minute of our life. I wouldn’t. That doesn’t change the fact that our life is busy and a jumble of competing personalities and priorities.” Emma laughed. “There are days that the thing I thank God for the most is laundry service.”

  Addison sniggered.

  “I’m not kidding,” Emma said. “My point is that when we met, when you wrote the pilot for Off Screen, when we filmed those first couple of seasons—it was us, Addy—just us. Things have changed. There is more noise to tune out. It isn’t a bad thing; it’s just life. You keep telling me that I don’t have to choose between being Mom and being Emma Bronson. You don’t have to choose either. You’re not the same parent that I am, Addison. God knows, I am grateful for that. We are different in more ways than I can count. That is why I love you. You need to give yourself a break.”

  “I know.”

  Addison’s words surprised Emma.

  “Well, I do know. That’s why we are making our move. I also realize that moving isn’t enough. You’re right about the competing personalities and priorities. After you fell asleep, I started thinking. We aren’t abandoning that reality. Instead of the studio and our friends, we’ll have your family, and our new project. We’ll have Noah to add to the mix.”

  Emma smiled.

  “We haven’t done a great job of making time for ourselves the last couple of years. If anything needs to change, it is that.”

  Emma nodded.

  “I remember looking forward to Saturdays when we first met. I wished every day could be Saturday.”

  “Me too.”

  “It’s not the same now. I know that. We’re not the same. I think we should commit to a weekend away every couple of months. We should agree to a couple of nights each week when everything gets turned off after the kids go to bed.”

  “Everything?” Emma teased.

  “Everything that requires plugging in.”

  Emma laughed.

  “I think we should start that today. No computers. No TV. I would love to take a long walk with you and talk. That’s it.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, I did hope we might play Movie Trivia later.”

  “You found that in the bag, did you?”