Sideways Page #19

MAYA:

I started to get serious about seven

years ago.

MILES:

What was the bottle that did it?

MAYA:

Eighty-eight Sassicaia.

Miles whistles and raises his eyebrows. Maya pours, and they

clink their glasses together before savoring the wine.

MILES:

Wow. We gotta give it a moment, but

this is tasty. Really good. How about

you?

MAYA:

(tastes again)

I think they overdid it a bit. Too

much alcohol. Overwhelms the fruit.

MILES:

(tasting again,

impressed)

Yeah, I'd say you're right on the

money.

Then Miles absently scans the REFRIGERATOR DOOR and spots a

PHOTO of Stephanie holding a LITTLE GIRL.

MILES:

Is this Stephanie's kid? Sure is

cute.

MAYA:

Yeah, Siena's a sweetie.

MILES:

Is she sleeping or...?

MAYA:

She's with her grandmother. She's

with Steph's mom. She spends a lot

of time over there. Steph's... well,

she's Stephanie.

Jack's voice-over voice from the other room...

JACK (O.S.)

"And now for a low, low 4.8% APR..."

...is followed by PEALS OF LAUGHTER.

MAYA:

You got kids?

MILES:

Who me? Nah, I'd just f*** them up.

That was the one unpolluted part of

my divorce -- no kids.

MAYA:

Yeah, same here.

Maya nods as she sips again, looking distant for a moment,

thinking about something else.

MAYA:

Let's go in there.

Maya takes the bottle, and they wander into --

INT. STEPHANIE'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Jack and Stephanie are gone. From a distant bedroom comes

more laughter.

MAYA:

Looks like our friends are hitting

it off.

While Maya goes to turn down the STEREO, Miles sits on the

couch. Maya's shirt rides up as she crouches, giving Miles a

glimpse of the small of HER BACK.

She takes a seat opposite Miles on the couch. They look at

each other without speaking. Just what is the vibe here?

MAYA:

It's kind of weird sitting here with

you in Stephanie's house. All those

times you came into the restaurant.

It's like you're a real person now.

Almost.

MILES:

Yeah, I know. It's kind of weird.

Out of context.

MAYA:

Yeah, weird. But great.

MILES:

Yeah. Definitely.

An awkward silence, broken by Maya.

MAYA:

So what's your novel about?

MILES:

Well, it's a little difficult to

summarize. It begins as a first-person

account of a guy taking care of his

father after a stroke. Kind of based

on personal experience, but only

loosely.

MAYA:

What's the title?

MILES:

"The Day After Yesterday."

MAYA:

Oh. You mean... today?

MILES:

Um... yeah but it's more...

MAYA:

So is it kind of about death and

mortality, or...?

MILES:

Mrnmm, yeah... but not really. It

shifts around a lot. Like you also

start to see everything from the

point of view of the father. And

some other stuff happens, some

parallel narrative, and then it

evolves -- or devolves -- into a

kind of a Robbe-Grillet mystery --

you know, with no real resolution.

MAYA:

Wow. Anyway, I think it's amazing

you're getting it published. Really.

I know how hard it is. Just to write

it even.

MILES:

(squeezing it out)

Yeah. Thanks.

MAYA:

Like me, I have this stupid paper

due on Friday, and as usual I'm

freaked out about it. Just like in

high school. It never changes.

MILES:

A paper?

MAYA:

Yeah. I'm working on a masters in

horticulture. Chipping away at it.

MILES:

Horticulture? Wow. I didn't know

there was a college here.

MAYA:

I commute to San Luis Obispo twice a

week.

MILES:

So... you want to work for a winery

or something someday?

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