hola guys, just back from vacation, and I wanted to post this before I go back to work... it's actually only the first half of what I intended to make a single chapter, but
A) I wanted to post something before I had to go back to Regular Life, and
2) I didn't know if I would make it to the end of this chapter anytime soon, as it is turning into a longer story than I originally thought...
Oh well! Here goes...
~*~*~
“The man is really and truly losing his mind, isn’t it?” Hugh plopped himself down in front of Liz Friedman, who was going over The Softer Side script and making a few last minuto changes to some of the dialogue. “Methadone?”
“Oh, come on, Hugh, it’ll be fun! I know how tu like taking things to extremes…” she leaned further over the table, reaching to point out a few key lines.
Across the room, Lisa’s teeth were clenched and her temple was aching from the pressure. Do it. Go ahead. Lean a little closer, why don’t you—
“Lisa?”
“What?!” She yelped. Robert narrowed his eyes.
“You ok there?”
“Yeah—great—perfect—why?”
Her fellow actor folded his arms over his chest. “So I heard they were trying to rewrite one of the scenes in this episode—have Cameron do one of the scenes House with House instead of Cuddy.”
“What?” Lisa squeaked, her jaw dropping. “But—that—”
“Ok. tu have a problem.” Robert sat in Hugh’s chair siguiente to her. “Oh, relax; they’re not going to do that. But tu might want to consider not shooting daggers at any female that comes near Hugh, just for the heck of it.” Lisa’s face flushed and she looked down at her hands.
“I wasn’t… shooting daggers,” she began.
“You kind of were. And… it was kind of obvious.” Robert stared her down until she met his gaze, then sprang out of the chair and whistled as he walked jauntily over to the comida service table. Lisa glared at his retreating back, then returned her gaze to where Hugh and Liz were sitting, still poring over the script.
“…going to have to shave…” she heard a bit of the conversation and furrowed her brow, straining her ears to hear more. She had not, as yet, looked through the script much, as filming wasn’t to start for another día o two. As luck would have it, Hugh lowered his already hushed voice at that point, and she was stuck examining her script for clues.
“So what, tu guys saw Lisa get a haircut and decided we all needed to be de-folliculed?” He muttered, unconsciously rubbing his jaw. “How terribly annoying.”
“You’ll live, dear,” Liz said, patting his hand and standing up. “Besides, tu don’t have to worry until we shoot the first half of the episode, then we’ll do the clean-shaven stuff.”
Hugh gave her the most exaggerated grin and thumbs-up he had in his repertoire.
“What’s this I hear about tu shaving?” Lisa slid easily into the chair Liz vacated. “What’s the deal, más hair on my face, less hair on your face? Is it a balance thing?” She blew upward, her bangs floating slowly back over her forehead. “I still don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You know that is exactly what I just dicho to Liz,” Hugh said, laughing. “I can’t imagine any other reason, but to make sure that our faces balance. Because, tu see,” he turned, presenting his left cheek to her, “there is a very delicate balance…” Lisa grinned and turned her right cheek so that their faces were side-to-side. She twisted her lips into a funny grimace as Hugh puckered his lips and looked to the extreme far right corner of the room. From out of nowhere came a flash, and they both jumped back into their chairs, blinking away the white dots that crowded their vision.
“A delicate balance indeed,” Greg cracked, examining the image in his digital camera. “That is absolutely priceless.”
As the día went by, Lisa spent a lot of time hanging out on the side chatting with the crew and waiting for her scenes to be called. But every time she looked over at Hugh, she saw him unconsciously rubbing his face, and wrinkling his nose slightly. When they finally stopped for lunch, she hesitantly made her way over to where he was sitting, pencil between his teeth and Softer Side script in his lap.
“Hey,” she dicho softly, sliding into her own chair. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Notes,” he muttered around the pencil, and she looked down at his pages. Every inch of margin el espacio was filled with his thoughts, comments, and ideas about how to play each and every line and scene. Lisa gaped and leaned over further, trying to get a look at what exactly he was saying.
“Hey hola hey,” he said, closing the script and trying not to realize that she had switched to a different scent of shampoo. “It’s nothing, just—I have a meeting about my siguiente book tomorrow, so I have to get this all done and memorized tonight. I won’t have another chance, and if I don’t—”
“Whoa, whoa, so this is Hugh, Stressed Out?” Lisa teased, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s ok, you’ll have time. We finish early tonight, remember? So you’ll take it inicial and relax and it’ll be all set and tu won’t have anything to worry about. No problem.” Hugh rolled his eyes over in her direction. “Ok so tu won’t relax. But you’ll get it done.”
“Right.” Hugh frowned at his pages. “I suppose.”
~*~*~
“All right, I’ll see tu guys tomorrow,” Lisa called as she grabbed her script and prepared to hike off the set. Something made her look down in puzzlement—were the pages más worn than she remembered? Opening to a page at random, she sucked her breath in through her teeth and swore. “Oh, shit. Oh God, Hugh is going to go nuts…” she muttered as she grabbed at her cell phone and punched in his number.
“Lisa?” Hugh’s British accent floated through cyberspace into her ear, and she couldn’t help but smile—even though she knew he was about to freak out completely.
“Hey, Hugh, um—you left your script at the set here, I have it in my hand…”
“What? No, no, I have it right here, it’s…” Lisa could practically hear his teeth grind as he picked up the pages he had grabbed. “Oh, bloody—”
“You’ve got mine, don’t you?” She asked gently. “Look, why don’t I just bring yours over to your place? I know we’re starting the segundo half of the episode tomorrow, and you’re going to want your notes.”
“My notes…” Hugh banging his forehead against the wall. “How in the world could I manage to do something so stupid?”
“Um, Hugh? Hi. It’s me, your fellow mortal. For God’s sake, it’s a simple mistake!” Lisa cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she lowered herself into her car. “Look, I’m just now leaving, so do tu want me to bring it over now, o are you—busy?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, and suddenly Lisa had a flash of insight. “Hugh,” she dicho lowly, in an almost exact approximation of her Cuddy Voice. “I didn’t read anything on your script, I promise. I opened it and saw your handwriting, and closed it right back up. tu can hook me up to a polygraph if tu want to.”
Finally she heard him chuckle. “No más talk about hooking tu up, Miss Edelstein. Come on over, I’ll give tu your script back too.”
“Great. See tu in a bit.”
Lisa pulled slowly down the back driveway to Hugh’s house, parking off to the side where she’d put her car at the last party he’d thrown for the cast. Absently thumbing the lock mechanism on her keypad, she strolled up to the side door and knocked lightly. Almost immediately, Hugh appeared and opened the door, letting her in.
“Here tu go, sir,” she dicho lightly, handing him his script. Hugh sighed and took it, heading for the cocina and waving her to follow.
“Thanks, Lis… I’ve got yours in here.”
“Ok.” Lisa answered softly, looking around. Gorgeous furnishings everywhere, soft couches, huge windows…
“Lisa?” Hugh stuck his head out from the kitchen. “You coming?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” As she walked into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. “Honestly, Hugh, between this room, whatever room tu sleep in, and your bathroom, have tu set foot in any of the other rooms in here?” A shadow crossed his face, and Lisa blanched. “Oh, God. Ok, open mouth, insert foot… I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking about. I mean, it must be horrible for tu not to have your family here—”
“No. Really. It’s not that, it’s—you didn’t say anything wrong.” Just then, a small mechanic ‘pop’ came from out of nowhere, and Lisa spun around trying to identify the sound. “Just here,” he said, and his old grin was back. “You want some toast?”
~*~*~
“So the siguiente día I went back down to the shelter,” Lisa finished, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “And of course she was still down there, just looking at me like ‘what? I told tu you’d be back!’ and the woman running the place actually had all the forms filled out already and everything… apparently everyone but me knew I’d be getting that stupid dog…”
Hugh gave her a crooked smile and gripped her hand. 'Stupid dog' had been Lisa’s pet name for all of her dogs, and no one knew better than he what it felt like when their time finally came. Lisa used her free hand to wipe away a tear—whether from mirth o sadness, he wasn’t sure—and finally met his eyes, smiling faintly.
“Oh well.”
“She had a great life with you, though. tu know she’s up there terrorizing all the squirrels and getting—”
“—chased out of libraries,” they finished together, laughing.
“I swear I never knew a dog so fond of paperback mysteries,” Lisa said, remembering the first night she had come inicial to find the dog sleeping peacefully with a Sue Grafton book under her head as a pillow. “Do tu think she was trying to get the story to sink in through osmosis o what?”
“Who knows? My dog used to lie in the living room and pretend to be asleep, but let tu even try to pick up the newspaper and all of a sudden he needed your undivided attention. Dogs.”
“Yeah, well.” Lisa looked down at the mesa, tabla and suddenly realized that Hugh still had her hand. “Um… Hugh?”
“Yeah?” His voice was raspy.
“I’m going to need my hand if I want más toast.”
Hugh narrowed his eyes at her and took his hand back. “I’m not giving tu any más toast.”
“What?” Lisa started eyeing the cabinets. “I can’t believe tu could be so selfish.”
“I have no más bread! tu ate it all! I’m also going to be out of mermelada and mantequilla and—”
“You say that, but I know in one of those cabinets tu have another loaf of pan de molde, pan somewhere…” Without warning, Lisa jumped up and grabbed at the nearest cupboard, and Hugh reached one long arm out and circled her waist, pulling her back in the direction of the table. Lisa’s hip hit the counter, and before anyone could realize what was happening, she had lost her balance and fell, spinning 180 degrees and landing in Hugh’s lap across from where she’d been sitting.
“I told you,” he whispered in her ear as she started giggling. “No más brindis, pan tostado for you!”
A) I wanted to post something before I had to go back to Regular Life, and
2) I didn't know if I would make it to the end of this chapter anytime soon, as it is turning into a longer story than I originally thought...
Oh well! Here goes...
~*~*~
“The man is really and truly losing his mind, isn’t it?” Hugh plopped himself down in front of Liz Friedman, who was going over The Softer Side script and making a few last minuto changes to some of the dialogue. “Methadone?”
“Oh, come on, Hugh, it’ll be fun! I know how tu like taking things to extremes…” she leaned further over the table, reaching to point out a few key lines.
Across the room, Lisa’s teeth were clenched and her temple was aching from the pressure. Do it. Go ahead. Lean a little closer, why don’t you—
“Lisa?”
“What?!” She yelped. Robert narrowed his eyes.
“You ok there?”
“Yeah—great—perfect—why?”
Her fellow actor folded his arms over his chest. “So I heard they were trying to rewrite one of the scenes in this episode—have Cameron do one of the scenes House with House instead of Cuddy.”
“What?” Lisa squeaked, her jaw dropping. “But—that—”
“Ok. tu have a problem.” Robert sat in Hugh’s chair siguiente to her. “Oh, relax; they’re not going to do that. But tu might want to consider not shooting daggers at any female that comes near Hugh, just for the heck of it.” Lisa’s face flushed and she looked down at her hands.
“I wasn’t… shooting daggers,” she began.
“You kind of were. And… it was kind of obvious.” Robert stared her down until she met his gaze, then sprang out of the chair and whistled as he walked jauntily over to the comida service table. Lisa glared at his retreating back, then returned her gaze to where Hugh and Liz were sitting, still poring over the script.
“…going to have to shave…” she heard a bit of the conversation and furrowed her brow, straining her ears to hear more. She had not, as yet, looked through the script much, as filming wasn’t to start for another día o two. As luck would have it, Hugh lowered his already hushed voice at that point, and she was stuck examining her script for clues.
“So what, tu guys saw Lisa get a haircut and decided we all needed to be de-folliculed?” He muttered, unconsciously rubbing his jaw. “How terribly annoying.”
“You’ll live, dear,” Liz said, patting his hand and standing up. “Besides, tu don’t have to worry until we shoot the first half of the episode, then we’ll do the clean-shaven stuff.”
Hugh gave her the most exaggerated grin and thumbs-up he had in his repertoire.
“What’s this I hear about tu shaving?” Lisa slid easily into the chair Liz vacated. “What’s the deal, más hair on my face, less hair on your face? Is it a balance thing?” She blew upward, her bangs floating slowly back over her forehead. “I still don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You know that is exactly what I just dicho to Liz,” Hugh said, laughing. “I can’t imagine any other reason, but to make sure that our faces balance. Because, tu see,” he turned, presenting his left cheek to her, “there is a very delicate balance…” Lisa grinned and turned her right cheek so that their faces were side-to-side. She twisted her lips into a funny grimace as Hugh puckered his lips and looked to the extreme far right corner of the room. From out of nowhere came a flash, and they both jumped back into their chairs, blinking away the white dots that crowded their vision.
“A delicate balance indeed,” Greg cracked, examining the image in his digital camera. “That is absolutely priceless.”
As the día went by, Lisa spent a lot of time hanging out on the side chatting with the crew and waiting for her scenes to be called. But every time she looked over at Hugh, she saw him unconsciously rubbing his face, and wrinkling his nose slightly. When they finally stopped for lunch, she hesitantly made her way over to where he was sitting, pencil between his teeth and Softer Side script in his lap.
“Hey,” she dicho softly, sliding into her own chair. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Notes,” he muttered around the pencil, and she looked down at his pages. Every inch of margin el espacio was filled with his thoughts, comments, and ideas about how to play each and every line and scene. Lisa gaped and leaned over further, trying to get a look at what exactly he was saying.
“Hey hola hey,” he said, closing the script and trying not to realize that she had switched to a different scent of shampoo. “It’s nothing, just—I have a meeting about my siguiente book tomorrow, so I have to get this all done and memorized tonight. I won’t have another chance, and if I don’t—”
“Whoa, whoa, so this is Hugh, Stressed Out?” Lisa teased, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s ok, you’ll have time. We finish early tonight, remember? So you’ll take it inicial and relax and it’ll be all set and tu won’t have anything to worry about. No problem.” Hugh rolled his eyes over in her direction. “Ok so tu won’t relax. But you’ll get it done.”
“Right.” Hugh frowned at his pages. “I suppose.”
~*~*~
“All right, I’ll see tu guys tomorrow,” Lisa called as she grabbed her script and prepared to hike off the set. Something made her look down in puzzlement—were the pages más worn than she remembered? Opening to a page at random, she sucked her breath in through her teeth and swore. “Oh, shit. Oh God, Hugh is going to go nuts…” she muttered as she grabbed at her cell phone and punched in his number.
“Lisa?” Hugh’s British accent floated through cyberspace into her ear, and she couldn’t help but smile—even though she knew he was about to freak out completely.
“Hey, Hugh, um—you left your script at the set here, I have it in my hand…”
“What? No, no, I have it right here, it’s…” Lisa could practically hear his teeth grind as he picked up the pages he had grabbed. “Oh, bloody—”
“You’ve got mine, don’t you?” She asked gently. “Look, why don’t I just bring yours over to your place? I know we’re starting the segundo half of the episode tomorrow, and you’re going to want your notes.”
“My notes…” Hugh banging his forehead against the wall. “How in the world could I manage to do something so stupid?”
“Um, Hugh? Hi. It’s me, your fellow mortal. For God’s sake, it’s a simple mistake!” Lisa cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she lowered herself into her car. “Look, I’m just now leaving, so do tu want me to bring it over now, o are you—busy?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, and suddenly Lisa had a flash of insight. “Hugh,” she dicho lowly, in an almost exact approximation of her Cuddy Voice. “I didn’t read anything on your script, I promise. I opened it and saw your handwriting, and closed it right back up. tu can hook me up to a polygraph if tu want to.”
Finally she heard him chuckle. “No más talk about hooking tu up, Miss Edelstein. Come on over, I’ll give tu your script back too.”
“Great. See tu in a bit.”
Lisa pulled slowly down the back driveway to Hugh’s house, parking off to the side where she’d put her car at the last party he’d thrown for the cast. Absently thumbing the lock mechanism on her keypad, she strolled up to the side door and knocked lightly. Almost immediately, Hugh appeared and opened the door, letting her in.
“Here tu go, sir,” she dicho lightly, handing him his script. Hugh sighed and took it, heading for the cocina and waving her to follow.
“Thanks, Lis… I’ve got yours in here.”
“Ok.” Lisa answered softly, looking around. Gorgeous furnishings everywhere, soft couches, huge windows…
“Lisa?” Hugh stuck his head out from the kitchen. “You coming?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” As she walked into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. “Honestly, Hugh, between this room, whatever room tu sleep in, and your bathroom, have tu set foot in any of the other rooms in here?” A shadow crossed his face, and Lisa blanched. “Oh, God. Ok, open mouth, insert foot… I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking about. I mean, it must be horrible for tu not to have your family here—”
“No. Really. It’s not that, it’s—you didn’t say anything wrong.” Just then, a small mechanic ‘pop’ came from out of nowhere, and Lisa spun around trying to identify the sound. “Just here,” he said, and his old grin was back. “You want some toast?”
~*~*~
“So the siguiente día I went back down to the shelter,” Lisa finished, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “And of course she was still down there, just looking at me like ‘what? I told tu you’d be back!’ and the woman running the place actually had all the forms filled out already and everything… apparently everyone but me knew I’d be getting that stupid dog…”
Hugh gave her a crooked smile and gripped her hand. 'Stupid dog' had been Lisa’s pet name for all of her dogs, and no one knew better than he what it felt like when their time finally came. Lisa used her free hand to wipe away a tear—whether from mirth o sadness, he wasn’t sure—and finally met his eyes, smiling faintly.
“Oh well.”
“She had a great life with you, though. tu know she’s up there terrorizing all the squirrels and getting—”
“—chased out of libraries,” they finished together, laughing.
“I swear I never knew a dog so fond of paperback mysteries,” Lisa said, remembering the first night she had come inicial to find the dog sleeping peacefully with a Sue Grafton book under her head as a pillow. “Do tu think she was trying to get the story to sink in through osmosis o what?”
“Who knows? My dog used to lie in the living room and pretend to be asleep, but let tu even try to pick up the newspaper and all of a sudden he needed your undivided attention. Dogs.”
“Yeah, well.” Lisa looked down at the mesa, tabla and suddenly realized that Hugh still had her hand. “Um… Hugh?”
“Yeah?” His voice was raspy.
“I’m going to need my hand if I want más toast.”
Hugh narrowed his eyes at her and took his hand back. “I’m not giving tu any más toast.”
“What?” Lisa started eyeing the cabinets. “I can’t believe tu could be so selfish.”
“I have no más bread! tu ate it all! I’m also going to be out of mermelada and mantequilla and—”
“You say that, but I know in one of those cabinets tu have another loaf of pan de molde, pan somewhere…” Without warning, Lisa jumped up and grabbed at the nearest cupboard, and Hugh reached one long arm out and circled her waist, pulling her back in the direction of the table. Lisa’s hip hit the counter, and before anyone could realize what was happening, she had lost her balance and fell, spinning 180 degrees and landing in Hugh’s lap across from where she’d been sitting.
“I told you,” he whispered in her ear as she started giggling. “No más brindis, pan tostado for you!”
