Outside. Near a tree in the lawn. Bruce stands, in thought, with a pitchfork. Tammy enters, speaking.
TAMMY: You got a truck load of mulch, I see. I should say, I smell.
BRUCE: Yeah, smells like mulch.
TAMMY: I love that smell.
BRUCE: Smells like work.
TAMMY: Yeah, outside work. I love that feeling.
BRUCE: When it’s done, you mean.
TAMMY: Yeah, but doing it, too. The sweat of it all. The getting your hands dirty and doing some actually work that you can look back on, when it’s done, and see what you’ve done, and stand there tired and yet happy and sweaty and hot and just feel good.
BRUCE: I love you.
TAMMY: Don’t say that.
BRUCE: It’s true.
TAMMY: I know. But.
TAMMY: I shouldn’t tell you what to say.
BRUCE: It’s OK.
TAMMY: I love you, too.
BRUCE: Don’t say that.
TAMMY: It’s also true.
BRUCE: You know this mulch is twice shredded. Double shredded. It was trees. Tree bark. This is true. True double shredded hardwood bark mulch. Not long ago it was alive and tall and sturdy and all that stuff that seems like it is never going away.
TAMMY: And then you spread it out and something new grows (laughs).
BRUCE: (sort of laughs) I wasn’t trying to be clever.
TAMMY: I know.
BRUCE: But it’s true.
TAMMY: Can I help you spread it?
BRUCE: You sure?
BRUCE: Well, OK, then.
Bruce hands Tammy the pitchfork.
BRUCE: Get ready to sweat.