We spend the rest of the morning on the kitchen counter, and then the bedroom, our breakfast growing cold.
—
“So, congratulations on the move to Scotland.”
“I havenotmoved to Scotland.”
Natalie scoffs, the sound echoing over the phone. “Sure sounds like it. Every time I hear from you it’sI’m spending an extra day here. Actually, two more extra days.And now it’s two weeks?”
“I—Do I need to get back for anything? For the show?”
“No. It’s not that. We’re on track for next season.” Natalie finally decided on a location. Australia. We’ve never filmed there before. “And I know you’re getting work done. I saw the preliminary pitch deck. It’s—”
“It’s not done,” I say. “I’m going to add some footage to it. Try to provide more of an idea, an example of what the show could look like.”
“Great, but I was going to say it looks good. Fresh. I could…I could see us selling this.”
“Really?”
“Really. Maybe not to our network, but we could sell it toanetwork. I’ve got the development deal, though, so they’d get first look. That is, if you want to try to do this together—”
“I do.”
“All right. Let’s get it in shape, then. Send me the footage when you have it, and…I mean, we’re both contracted for the next season, but we can try to pitch it after. Before new contracts get passed around.”
One more season. This could be my last season working onLove in the Sun.It feels bittersweet.
“I’ll do that,” I say. “I’m filming it tomorrow, and then I’ll need a day or so to edit, but you’ll get it soon.”
“Great.” Natalie pauses. “I’m glad you’re doing this. This trip. I think it’s been good for you.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice growing higher, the word coming out as a question. Because Natalie and I have always been friendly. We’ve worked together for ages, but during the offseason…we usually only email and text. We’re closer during filming—everyone is. It’s an atmosphere like summer camp. We live and work in close proximity, spend late nights editing, solve last-minute emergencies. But, also like campers, when it’s time to leave we say our goodbyes, only reuniting when it’s time to film again.
Though I wonder if things would be different if I made more of an effort to keep in touch. I invited Natalie to my promotion dinner thinking she wouldn’t come, but she ended up being the only one of my friends to make it. Maybe…
“Let’s grab lunch or something,” I say. “When I’m back.”
“Sure. To talk about the pitch?”
“Yes, but also…it’d be nice to catch up.”
She’s silent for a moment, and I twist my fingers in the blanket on my lap.
When’s the last time I asked a friend to hang out? I tried to get everyone together for my promotion dinner, but they all had last-minute emergencies, and it…stung. But I can’t remember the last time I hung out with any of them before or after that. We used to carve out time for one another, even with my strange travel schedule, but after they got married and started having children, things changed. The number of texts I got from them started decreasing, and the calls became less frequent, but it’s been sort of…mutual, to an extent.
Once I felt them pull back, I did the same.
“I’d love to,” Natalie says. “Let’s pick a date.” We pull up our calendars, find a free day for both of us, and pencil it in. And after we talk through some other things, after we hang up, I’m stunned by how simple it was.
I stare at my phone, then pull up the contact for Tara, my old college roommate. I hesitate for a second, seeing the last text she sent me, the night of my promotion dinner.
Davey’s throwing up all over the place. Sorry, girl, can’t make it.
I hesitate, then start typing. Out of the country right now, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Can we get lunch in a couple weeks?
Twenty minutes later, when I’ve gone back to work, my eyes glazing over as I stare at my computer screen, I hear a ping.
Yes!! Please!!! I’ve missed you! I could do any Tuesday? And I can bring Davey? Or get a sitter??
