Her old bud texts on his way home to say he canceled his dinner plans. Wanna maybe watch something?
Sure.
What kind of food are you in the mood for?
Pizza!
He returns with a pizza while she’s cutting and pasting an outline for a project.
WHOA what is going on, am I interrupting your ransom letter?
This is what revisions look like sometimes.
Hey were you having bad dreams all night?
Oh god. Probably. I remember talking to someone.
This was not talking, this was an FBI interrogation. Someone did something very wrong. You were screaming like a gargoyle was inside you. I was afraid to come in and check, like some creature would emerge and swallow me.
I do have a history of bad dreams. And screaming in my sleep.
They settle into the sofa. She’s so comfortable with her old buddy; they’ve known each other for twenty-seven years. Can comfort be trusted anymore? She knew her husband for sixteen. She always felt comfortable with him too. Is this what he meant by wanting excitement, that they were too comfortable with each other? Who is interested in discomfort? Not her.
Can I ask you something? he says.
Of course.
This is all so easy with us, like, I just can’t believe how easy. You’re so easy! Were you this same way with your husband? She knows he knows the answer to this, that he’s mostly making a point.
I was exactly like this!
There’s something wrong with him, he says. You’re so easy to be with. You’re never annoying.
She is not a compliment hound, generally, but needs more than not annoying. She gives him a beat to figure that out.
I mean, you’re more than not annoying! You know that!
Am I fun?
How much do we laugh every night?
So much.
You’re so fun. Her bud is many things, nothing if not a shit ton of fun. You know I don’t toss out “fun” easily. I have a high standard for fun. You’re so fun.
Yeah, I think I’m fun too.