Page 16 of Spit Screen

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 abigdeal. 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 Uberanda 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 toOff 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 herbrow 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 thinksIshould write comedy?

“See? I know that look,” Tamara says. “Emma’s not here to stroke your?—”

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