Twice in a Blue Moon

Page 66

I band my arms around his waist. “So were you.”

“You were both perfect,” Sam says, behind me. Tonight the three of us skipped steps, shot up the secret friendship path in Candyland. I have the sense that the bond of this shoot will keep for years.

“Come on.” Nick breaks the silence. “I gotta be fresh for tomorrow.”

I gently chuck his chin. “You’ll be fine. Piece of cake.”

Sam watches us, confused. “What’s tomorrow again?”

“The sex scene,” I tell him, and without waiting for his reply, I turn, calling out over my shoulder, “We’re gonna be amazing again, Nicky. Good night, you two.”



Ellen is in her room. The late-afternoon sun filters through the window and washes the walls in gold. Ellen is changing clothes. Her shirt is unbuttoned. She’s soaked and dirty from a hard day’s work. She’s also angry.

She looks up at a knock at the door.


Come in.

Hat in hand, Richard starts to step inside but stops when he sees that she’s changing. He’s clearly flustered.


Oh—I’m—I’ll come bac—

With an impatient huff, Ellen pulls him into the room and closes the door behind them.


Don’t be ridiculous. I have to get these off and get back out there. Just . . . turn around.

Richard turns to face the wall.


I see you’ve been running the tractor. I told you I could help.

Behind him, we see Ellen slip off her shirt. Her bare back is exposed, and we hear the fabric flutter to the floor.


I have, but I’m sure that isn’t why you came up here.


I was in town and heard some people talking. They said your dad’s worse. That nobody’s seen him for a few weeks.

Ellen slips off her skirt, the fabric sliding slowly down her legs. In the window Richard sees her reflection, all curves and strong, capable muscle. He bows his head, looking away.


I don’t know why everyone can’t mind their own business. Jacob Hadley was up here yesterday and had the nerve to suggest I need a husband to take care of things.

She steps into a pair of jeans.


I think people are just worried about you being alone up here taking care of him.


Where were all these worried people when Dad first got sick? When I had to take care of him and everything else. Where were they then?


Well I was in North Carolina . . .


You know I’m not talking about you.


But why not?


Why not what?


Why aren’t we talking about me? I worry about you, too.


I don’t need you to worry about me.


I know that. I know you don’t need anything from me. I don’t need anything from you, either. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you.

She stops buttoning her shirt. She turns to face him.

RICHARD (cont’d)

I want to give you everything.


Look at me.

Richard slowly turns around. He takes in her unbuttoned shirt and slowly meets her eyes.

ELLEN (cont’d)

You sure I’m what you want? This? Here? You willing to take that on? I can’t fall again and pick up my own pieces. I don’t have it in me.

He takes a step forward. Slips her shirt off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. We see her naked back as she leans in and kisses him.

Two hours later, the knock that I’ve been dreading sounds at the hair and makeup trailer door.

Charlie tilts her head as she swipes a touch of powder under my eyes. “She’s decent,” she calls out.

I’m not sure decent is the right word considering that under this robe I’m in nothing more than pasties and the world’s smallest nude thong. I’ve been waxed and moisturized and airbrushed. Every scar and freckle has been painstakingly concealed, and this particular wig has been tousled just enough to look like I’ve spent the day in someone’s bed. Which is unfortunately what I’m about to do.

The trailer opens and Devon’s dimpled smile appears in the doorway. “You ready to do this?”

“Ready to roll around naked in front of a camera?” I ask. No point in putting it off. “Sure. Just your average Tuesday.”

I once read that sex scenes in movies are just like actual sex, but with none of the pleasure and all of the awkward, fear, anxiety, and stress that come with it. They were not wrong. The good thing—if I had to pick a good thing—is that when done right, a sex scene can completely change a love story. It’s when we’re at our most vulnerable; when we let down walls and let another person see who we truly are. A lot of that rests on the actors’ shoulders, but the director and crew factor in as well. They set the tone for the shoot and the scene, determine how close the shots are and let us know when it’s working and when it’s not.

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