
* * *
Hunt handed Tallie a glass of wine as she walked in. She put her canvas bag and the script down on a kitchen chair, and smiled at the great smells all around them. The kitchen led out into the garden, and they wandered out onto the deck together and sat down. She was happy to see him and glad she had come home to him instead of staying in Palm Springs, and he was happy too. He was an easygoing person, and their lives had meshed perfectly for the past four years. There was rarely any friction between them, he had never disappointed her, and she loved sharing her work with him.
“Good day?” he asked, as he took off the apron and tossed it on a chair. He was taller than she was, and slightly round since he enjoyed eating well, but he was a handsome man. He was forty-five years old, and the beard gave him a more mature look than his years.
“Very good,” she confirmed with a smile about her day. “When are you coming to Palm Springs?”
“I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got meetings. Maybe the day after. How’d the death scene work out today?” He tried to keep up on the script changes, but with Tallie there were many of them, and sometimes she altered the script as she went along. She was always sensitive to how the dialogue was working, and let her actors add something more to it, if they could. The results were often breathtaking.
