Page 48 of Love Scenes

When Tyler sees me on the soundstage, she tucks her hands into the pockets of her pants. As I hug her, I can feel her shaking. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s both of us.

“The whole time, it’s felt like a practice run,” she says. “This is it. This is the real movie.”

“Stop it. You’re going to make me cry off my makeup before the first take.”

“I’m sorry. I keep thinking of us as kids.”

I pull back. “You do?”

“This is what I’ve always wanted. To do what we used to do back then.”

When we lived together, I’d occasionally drag out the home video footage and force Tyler and Kearns into a movie night. I had all of it converted from VHS to DVD years ago, and then had it all put onto my cloud when technology changed again. Tyler was always game to revisit our childhood passion projects, but the movies never seemed to hit her heart like they did mine. I thought it might be because she was behind the camera and not in front of it, so she couldn’t see herself in all of it like I could.

I’ll never forget her putting a ladder against the side of the house and shooting the pool from overhead while Powell and I thrashed about in the water after theTitaniccapsized. The shot turned out so much cooler than I could’ve imagined on my own. Everything did in Tyler’s hands. She managed to capture the scopeof the chaos and the magnitude of the desperation and cold, even though we were in a heated pool shaped like a teardrop and surrounded by palm trees. When she called cut, I looked up and saw her hanging off the edge of the ladder, one foot dangling out into nowhere, making good use of the balance she’d acquired from being forced to take ballet.

Everything has been about that moment. That feeling. That trust between all of us. The silent agreement that we may fight, and we may bother each other, but when we come together, we want to create something good.

That’s why I’m an actor, I remember, a simple thought that’s been buried by my fears.

“Everything was going wrong because itwaswrong. This movie was never supposed to be without you,” Tyler says.

Joseph taps me on the shoulder. “Excuse me, is that Miss Elise?”

When I turn around, he sucks back an approving breath.

He’s dressed in a navy-blue button-up and gray slacks, wire-rim glasses inching down the bridge of his nose. There’s a magnificence to the way these clothes lie across his skin, cutting into all the right places. He looks humble and heroic, studious and strong.

That’s Elise seeing him, of course.

By the time Mom gets to set, there’s a breathless anticipation in the air that reminds me of live theater, the audience and the actors in a constant tango of give-and-take, both sides setting the pulse everyone moves to. We’ve been through a lot to get to this.

The crew sets up the shot.

We actors take our places.

The clapper announces the first take of the day.

Tyler calls action.

And so it begins.

12

Week Four of Production

It touches my heart that Melanie sits with me during our lunch break. Melanie’s a formidable scene partner. Her approach is like that of a cat, sneaking up on the moment with eerie patience, then pouncing all over the emotional beats when you least expect it.

Tyler followed Melanie’s Ruth in a shot that slowly pulled in closer the longer she spoke, until the camera was right there to capture her tears. Watching it back on the monitor was like sitting in the audience at an awards show as a nominated actor’s highlighted clip plays on the big screen. I could even imagine Powell’s score swelling in the background. Something with searing violins and a delicate piano.

“You were amazing this morning,” I tell Melanie.

She swings a leg over the bench to sit, her fuzzy boot knocking into my leg. “This has been fun. I like when I get to play withthe material a little. Your sister’s good. She gave me my space, but she still kept her vision.”

Pride wells within me. Guy has stepped back all the way and let Tyler move forward. He now spends his time tinkering with the script and giving on-the-spot revisions while Tyler has full creative control over the tone and shot list. Her quiet, intent work has a way of seeping into everyone else. It’s only my second day of shooting with her, and I already feel like my heart beats a little slower while I’m acting. I want to be sure to give her the time and space to find each detail and capture it.

“You’re a generous partner,” Melanie tells me. “You let me have my moment.”

“How could I not? You were riveting. It was all I could do not to stare.”