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Rocky padded into the room, bleary-eyed from his afternoon snooze,and blinked up at them. Carly snatched him up and placed a kiss on his cheek.To pay her back, he offered her a tongue swipe. Then another.

“What time do you have to be on set tomorrow?” Lauren asked,giving Rocky a good scratch behind his ears.

“My call time is five a.m. Can you set a backup alarm for threeforty-five?”

Lauren grimaced, not envying Carly in the slightest. The game showappearances, followed by the great write-ups onHome Fires, had her star on the rise. Thestudio-produced film offers had started rolling in once again, but to hercredit, Carly hadn’t jumped immediately. She’d pored through scripts, selectingthe roles she’d find challenging or fulfilling, even if that meant less screentime. She was relaxed, happy, and fulfilled. It certainly showed.

As for Lauren, she enjoyed her life as a student of the theater.She’d even talked with Jeanine about shadowing her in the future, a prospectJeanine was very much in favor of. Stage managing was a great passion ofLauren’s, but maybe it was time she graduated to director. She had a lot ofideas of her own, and lots of stories to tell.

“Three forty-five, it is.” Lauren shook her head. “Ouch, by theway.”

“Right? Why do they hate me?” Carly stuck out her bottom lip.

“No one hates you. You’re too cute for hate.”

“Oh, I like that idea a lot.” Carly cocked a playful hip. “Do youwant to help this cute person finish our bathroom wall?”

“Hmm.” Lauren made a show out of considering the offer. “Only ifthere is fooling around during and after. I can’t see you in short overalls andnot get handsy.”

Carly offered an overly innocent smile. “It’s the very reason Iinvited you. Follow me.”

Lauren eagerly trailed Carly into their master bathroom, full oftarps, and tape, and paint, and brushes. Oh, my. She and Carly led a fairlyexciting and diverse life by most people’s standards, but the mundane momentslike these were the ones that Lauren cherished most. She looked forward to lazyafternoons by the much smaller pool in their backyard, gatherings with old andnew friends alike, and the quiet of the night, when she could lie with Carly inher arms and know that she was right where she was supposed to be.

“I want spaghetti tonight,” Lauren said, as she painted. “I haveno idea why.”

Carly pointed at her with a paintbrush. “Then we shall seek outthis spaghetti and make it ours.”

They painted some more with the gentle sounds of Norah Jonesplaying from the small speaker Carly had set up in the bathroom. Lauren swayed herhips slightly to the music.

“Hey, Car?”

“Yes?”

“I really love you.”

“Good, because it’s not fun being hopelessly in love all byyourself.” They leaned in and exchanged a kiss over a can of paint.

“One more thing,” Lauren said. She pointed just above Carly’shead. “You missed a spot.”

Carly glanced up and smirked. “Still the project manager. You wantto grab one of your Post-its and mark its placement?”

Lauren nodded, her heart full. “Lord knows I have enough.”