RichEisbrouch

At Christmas, I’d again gone east. The show had a short break, and ratings had been solid, if not outstanding. But it looked like we’d easily get another season. So I wasn’t worried about money. “Wanna meet my folks?” I’d asked Conor. He’d hesitated. “You really like your family.” It wasn’t a question. “Yeah,” I replied. We’d finished a game of Scrabble. For a moment, he was silent. “My family’s... difficult,” he told me. “In what way?” Again, he h

Pretty soon, Conor and I were seeing each other steadily – if that can be defined as “one or two nights a week with no warning.” “I’m free after eight,” his voice on my phone would suddenly announce. “Guess I am, too.” “Honest?” “I’ll get Cassie” – my assistant – “to cover.” I could manage that a few times a month, trading off especially late-nights. Cassie was living with a film editor and resigned to never having children because they rarely had time for sex.

Dad is as precise, just differently -- "More guy style," he might growl.

Thanks. It's fun to write romantic comedy. And this one's more direct than Mexico.

At work, I was slowly circling a guy a few years older than I was, a writer, far better established. He claimed I could organize anything and praised me relentlessly, except where it mattered. Finally, he agreed to go out. “Dinner first?” I asked. We’d been invited to a screening. “I snacked late this afternoon,” he said. “Coffee, after?” He wouldn’t commit. The screening was private, maybe two-hundred people in a theater built for several-hundred more. We were

Thanks. I like to work in dialogue, it keeps things immediate, though sometimes people lose track of who's speaking when there's too much ping pong. And I often mean things less seriously than they read, so I find myself adding, "he said, smiling." It can seem like a nervous tic.

Soon after the LA riots, my parents decided to visit. They’d seen Europe, though never California, and with me living there, the trip seemed only natural. But coming so quickly after the riots, it also had the tiniest taint of “checking up.” “What’s Number One son’s schedule?” Dad asked, quickly anointing me tour guide. “Slow in May,” I allowed. Our show was on hiatus. And while our producers were using some of the staff for prep work, the rest of us were free. Work wouldn’t pic

This introduces Jake, the narrator of Moorpark Palms, a funny book of stories about a small Los Angeles apartment building in the 1990s. Jake & Conor is a light little romance, once intertwined with the longer book. I broke it out because it distracted from the apartment stories.

Thanks. First, for the compliments, and, secondly, for explaining something I didn't want to make too literal. Of course, many people will have many interpretations of what ideas and images mean, and I didn't want to limit those. But there's all kinds of stuff layered into Jim's swim and to his relationship with the reservoir.

Technically, Jim was never afraid of water. It was the Quabbin reservoir that grew to scare him.

Mom ran out of air trying to find Paul. Dad puts faith in a god that failed to welcome his daughter. Jim ran out of time trying to reach Dane. But Jim was dutifully raised by his parents, so, of course, he's going to follow their strong examples. And, yeah, he's going to have a fine life: Become the research doctor he expected. Find a nice guy to marry. Help raise their biological children. The story's over because this part ends happily, and the rest is only going to get better. Again, thanks everyone who followed along.

I had no trouble slipping into the park, though this time I was heading to a particular place, so it took a while longer to get there. As usual, I walked till I reached the water, then I traced along the shore till I found the area Maddie had liked. At least, I thought she liked it. Maybe it was just a spot she’d remembered, or it was simply convenient that night. In the middle of February, there wouldn’t have been many visitors, and on a night that cold, there wouldn’t have been any police. May

I thought, if anything, this chapter might win the two of you -- and others -- over to Jim's point of view about Dane. Maybe you still have to be just a little in love with the person who was the first love of your life. And you've got to remember how young both of them still are -- 21. Not to mention, "The course of true love never did run smooth." It's a familiar theme. Ah, well. Thanks for hanging on.

Which is how Saturday night snuck up on me. That afternoon I did my dutiful trip to Waldron, to have lunch with Kevin and his ex. Getting myself there was like visiting my really old great aunt when I was a kid -- “Mom, do I have to go?” Still, once we all talked for a while, I realized that, just as Cameron had said, Steve was a perfectly nice guy, and I tried not to give off any I’ve-been-sleeping-with-your-guy vibes. He might not have noticed, anyhow. He didn’t seem stupid, but he and Kevin p

Well, Jim's dad probably isn't quite as inflexible as Jim thinks. After all, he raised 6 kids, some of them alone or with the help of the older kids after his wife died. Jim was in high school then and involved with Dane, so his dad had to know what was happening. And, yeah, I don't particularly like puns. But I named Leigh and then thought about the sleigh bed. I could have changed his name, or at least the spelling, but I let it stand. You're the first person who's caught it.

After a long, almost silent supper, I almost thought about going to the cemetery. Not to stay. I just hadn’t been there for a while, a couple of years, to visit Mom, Maddie, or Emily Dickinson. Funny thing was, I couldn’t remember one of Dickinson’s poems, not all the way through. I worked on that while watching Dad slowly dice his carrots. And it’s not like we hadn’t been forced to memorize a whole crateful of Dickinson poems -- you can’t grow up in Amherst without that. I kept trying for Dicki

And, yes, the mess with the Mill is over. Rest easy. Its problems aren't coming back.

I liked the fight over the Mill. It gave us a break from Jim, Cameron, and Kevin running around with their pants down.

The fight for the Mill just dragged on. The rest of Thursday, I listened to Carrie on the phone, for maybe an hour-and-a-half over a dozen different calls, but it got tough. After work, she wanted to go out for dinner, I’m sure to rag on, but I couldn’t face it. I lied my way clear, then slipped out of supper with Dad by picking up Carol and going to see Ann, Mike, and the boys in Hartford. I felt guilty about not asking Dad along, or even telling him where I was going, but not so guilty I would

One of the points of the tape was how out of it Drew Kohler was. That's what, unfortunately, led to his accident. Kevin, being younger, was obviously in good enough shape that he felt comfortable driving the under-a-mile home. And, yeah, the fact that there wasn't even a goodbye hug pretty well confirms Jim's opinion that Drew and Kevin didn't hook up.

Thanks. It probably benefited from being written four times and gaining more with each overlay.

“You did that purposely, didn’t you?” Cameron asked Thursday morning. “What?” I really wasn’t awake. “Let me be there when Steve showed up.” “Who?” “Steve. Kevin’s partner. From Chicago.” I laughed. “You’re kidding?” I looked him over, quickly. “Doesn’t seem like you’ve been in a fight.” “Nah, we were just putting together some bookcases. Steve probably thinks I’m Kevin’s new straight friend.” I laughed at that, a lot. The more I did, the more Cameron looked pissed.

Grenon is partly comic relief. I like Bill. And, yeah, there's always the dark under Jim. Early on, people were fearing for his life, but I've always seen him as more resilient because there's so much intelligence there -- and life. But maybe I'm as blind to his weaknesses as some people seem to think Jim is in his love for Dane.

Yep, lots of things happening. At the Mill. In Carrie's life. Continuing in Jim's. Eileen, of course, is already in shock and didn't need this. But, unfortunately, public companies -- especially small ones -- go into play when something major happens, like an owner/CEO dying. Mark and Carrie are also in shock, and this new revelation to a 23-year-old man that his soon-to-be wife is already worth more than he'll probably ever be takes some adjusting to. But they're both young, and they'll adjust one way or another. In any case, they've just realized how protected from reality they've been. Jim may be a little bit less protected from reality, but he's still in love, and you simply have to give that to him. You can't question love. So we'll just have to see what happens. Again, thanks for checking in. Always appreciated.

Dad was still up when Carrie dropped me off at the house. He and I nodded at each other, then I checked my mail, played with the computer for a couple minutes, took a fast shower, and tried to fall asleep. Then I pulled on my jeans, took my guitar down to the back porch, and played as quietly as I could, without singing. Pretty soon, Dad went to bed, and the house was almost as dark behind me as the backyard was black. I didn’t need to see the strings. I just played, my fingers being, maybe,