“You brought the script?”
“Yes. Read it. At least talk to them. No matter how you feel about working, if I let you turn this down without thinking it through, I should be jailed as a fraud.”
She stood. “Well, then. Let’s get you comfortable in the guesthouse. Walt, stay put. I’ll be right back. This way, Mason,” she said, exiting the kitchen and leading him through the front door.
She took Mason and a couple of suitcases to her old abode and came back ten minutes later with a script. Walt was seated at the table, waiting.
Without preamble, she said, “Here’s how this kind of thing usually goes. I could love everything about this project and after I make a commitment, Nicholson and the directors all disappear and we have to make do with whoever will step up to the plate. When I was actively working, I could afford to take chances like that—we’d always salvage a decent film in the end. But without even looking at this,” she said, holding up the script, “I’m damn sure not leaving my horses or my new house or you for something that isn’t carved in stone. Do you understand, Walt?”
“He’s staying?” was all Walt said in reply.
Mason Fielding only stayed overnight and at midmorning the next day was on his way back to L.A. Early in the afternoon, Walt rode Liberty up to Muriel’s house and waited while she saddled her Palomino mare, Sweety. Buff had to stay behind, but Luce was out in front, blazing their trail along the river until Muriel cut loose that piercing whistle of hers, bringing the Lab back to heel.
The air was cold; the steam rose from the horses’ nostrils. There was no snow yet, but if the clouds rolled in, the air was cold enough to support a nice white cover.
“Did you look at that script?” Walt asked her.
“Uh-huh. Read it twice.”
“Twice?” he asked, astonished.
“It’s not a shooting script. It’s just a hundred and thirty-five pages of dialogue. I read down the middle.”
“Any good?”
“Very good. It could use a tweak or two, but it’s inspired. The writer’s been coming along. This is pretty much what everyone’s been waiting for from her.”
“Her?”
“A woman, yes. This would be only her second feature film and her first was highly acclaimed. She was a very young playwright when she began her career. Now she’s about my age.”
“Hmm,” he said, knowing so little about this business. “Good enough to consider?”
“Good enough to talk about considering it. I haven’t said anything to Mason yet. I’m still in the pondering stage.”
“When you say talk about considering it, what does that involve?”
“Getting all the principals together in meetings, ironing out details, determining stars and supporting cast, directors, etcetera.”
“Does that mean going back to L.A.?” he asked.
“Maybe not. Actors and directors are often on location when deals are being set up. Conference calls work just fine. This is the kind of script that, done well, could be everything. But if a couple of things slip through the cracks or the right cast can’t come together for the production, could be just another mildly entertaining film.”
“Aren’t a lot of scripts like that?”
“Not really, no. You know what most of them are going to turn out to be from the get-go. This one really does have great potential. But I think the thing that appeals to me the most—I could play myself.”
“As in—yourself?” he asked.
“An unfancy woman who lives in the country and isn’t crazy about a lot of Hollywood flash. I think the script flirts with being autobiographical. It’s about a writer who hates Hollywood and lives on a nonworking farm with animals who are pets—dogs, horses, goats. Because she’s gifted, an actor comes to her asking her to write a script that will make his career before it’s too late—he’s no longer young. They have nothing and everything in common and the relationship is complex while they hammer out a script together—sometimes hilarious, sometimes very sentimental and touching. Passionate in places. Lots of emotion. And no backless gowns or jewelry.”
“You’re thinking about it,” he said.
“I can’t help myself. I’ve always seen myself in roles like this, with the right people involved, but they rarely presented themselves. It’s a life-transition film, like On Golden Pond with slightly younger lead actors.”
“Making a comeback?” he asked. “A starlet returning to the big screen?”