Bungalow 2 Read Free Page B

her husband and kids that she would turn down an offer like this one. It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and Tanya knew that, too. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought this could happen to her, and she had no idea what to do. She had given up the dream of writing a feature film, and contented herself with soaps, articles, short stories, and editorials, and now here it was, her dream was being handed to her on a silver platter. She nearly cried. “This is what you've been telling me you wanted for the last fifteen years. This is your chance to show your stuff. I know you can do it. Go for it, baby—you'll never get another offer like this. Wayne was considering three other screenwriters, one of them with two Academy Awards to his credit. But he wants someone new. He wants an answer this week, Tanya. If you don't take it, he wants to lock in one of the others pretty soon. I don't think you can afford to turn this down. If you're serious about what you've been doing for all these years, it will put you on the map forever. A deal like this turns a hobby into a major career.”
    “I don't write as a hobby,” she said, sounding insulted.
    “I know you don't. But I could never have dreamed up a better deal for you, or anyone for that matter. Tanya, this is it. It's the brass ring. Grab it, and run like hell.” She wanted to say yes, who wouldn't, but there was no way she could. A year from now maybe, after the girls went off to college, but even then she couldn't just leave Peter and go to L.A. for nine months because she'd had an offer to do a screenplay. They were married, she loved him, she had responsibilities to him, and a life she shared with him. And she had the twins at home for another year. She couldn't just dump everything and go to L.A. for all of their senior year. A month maybe, two at a stretch. But nine months—there was just no way.
    “I can't do it,” she said in a hoarse voice, raw with feeling and regret. “I can't, Walt. I still have kids at home.” She sounded near tears. It was a lot to give up, but she knew she had to. There was no other choice, not for her. She had never taken her eye off the ball. And the ball for her was Peter and her kids.
    “They're not kids,” he said tersely. “They're grown-ups, for chrissake. Jason's leaving for college, and Megan and Molly are women. They can take care of themselves during the week. You'll come home for weekends.” He sounded determined not to let her pass this up.
    “Can you guarantee that I'll get home every weekend?” She knew he couldn't. Not the way features worked, and he knew it, too. He'd be lying if he said he could. She didn't see how she could do it. Her kids needed her during the week. Who was going to cook for them, help with school projects, make sure they were managing their homework and schedules decently, and take care of them when they got sick? Not to mention boyfriends, social issues, applications to college, and their senior prom in the spring. After being with them constantly all their lives, now she would miss this final important year. And what about Peter? Who would take care of him? They were all used to having her around full-time, not pursuing her own life in L.A. It just wasn't her. She couldn't even imagine doing that to Peter after the girls left. That had never been their deal. Their deal was that she was a full-time wife and mom, and she did her work quietly on the side, in a way that didn't interfere with any of them, or her role as the person who took care of them.
    There was a long pause at Walt's end. “No, I can't guarantee it,” he said, sounding unhappy. “But you probably can get home most weekends.”
    “And if I can't? You'll come out and take care of my kids?”
    “Tanya, for that kind of money you can hire a babysitter. Ten of them, if you want. They don't pay the big bucks for you to sit on your ass in Marin and mail them the scripts. They want you on deck while they make the film. It makes