“I just. We didn’t get to talk last night. About the movie. After it was over. I was so tired.” She laughed nervously. That was true, but also not the reason they hadn’t talked. She let the lie fall between them, unacknowledged.
“I know, I missed having our usual conversation,” he said.
He turned to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and opened it. The crack and hiss startled her, despite her looking right at him while he did it.
Her dad took a drink. “Do you have work tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Do you want to watch it again?”
A slow smile spread across her face as her heart leaped in her chest.
“Yes, I would.”
***
Juliet situated herself on the bed, stretching out in the air-conditioned comfort. Ryan put the movie back in the player. For whatever reason, the movie resumed at the end credits, and she mocked him gently while he struggled with the remote.
He skipped back to the opening credits and lay down next to her, beer in hand. She felt a tingle of contentment and anticipation as the credits played.
“You want anything?” he asked. “Should I make popcorn?”
“I’m good,” she said. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Of course.”
Watching the movie again with him was an entirely different experience. They both knew what was coming in the story, so the suspense was diminished. It let her focus in on what she’d found truly interesting about the movie: the relationship between Roark and his daughter Lisbeth. This time, she picked up on many more subtle clues that pointed to the attraction between them. Several times, she opened her mouth to mention it, but her courage always failed her at the last moment. She had an idea where that conversation might lead.
About an hour into the movie, the sun slipped behind the afternoon clouds, and the weather cooled. She heard the pattering of summer rain against the roof of the RV. The light level in the interior dropped, like someone had thrown a massive blanket over the vehicle.
“It’s getting spooky in here,” her dad remarked dryly, and she laughed softly.
On screen, Lisbeth was bathing in a massive claw-foot tub, soaping herself liberally, body on display. Her father walked in, waving documents and bellowing about some villager who had wronged him. Lisbeth displayed surprise, but made no move to cover herself.
Juliet spoke before she could think about what she was doing. “Knowing what happens between them later, this scene plays totally differently. I mean, it’s still kinda weird, but-”
He sipped his beer. “It is? You wouldn’t want me to walk in on you and start having a conversation while you were taking a bath?”
“I didn’t say that,” she said. Her stomach clenched as she realized what had come out of her mouth. She tried to stammer a correction, but nothing came out. After all, part of her had meant what she’d just said.
Her dad didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on the screen, his expression unreadable.
Juliet decided to just let it go. There was no going back now.
The movie played on, and they shared some short conversations about it during the lulls in the plot. This was the part she loved – discussing movie trivia and story with him. Horror movies was something they’d both loved for most of their lives, and it felt grounding to share that love together.