[Cut to law office. Laynie ducks into doorway and knocks on door frame. Nina, sitting behind desk – hey, I needed someone for this role, and she fit better here than as the cop dating Rose – looks up. Besides, don't you think Nina could've been a lawyer if she hadn't married … uh, back to the story.]
NINA (smiling): Laynie! I take it you're not here to reminisce about the Dykes on Bykes springing you out of boarding school.
LAYNIE (walking in, smiling gratuitously, and rolling eyes): I wish. (Sits in one of chairs facing desk.) The preschool wants to put Ross on Ritalin.
NINA (wincing): Oh nooooo ….
LAYNIE: And they're threatening to expel him if we don't agree.
NINA (shaking head): Well, they're messing with the wrong moms. They do know you're a lawyer, right?
LAYNIE: Well, I haven't passed out business cards, but they did interview us before they admitted him.
NINA: Well, they have no authority to make ultimatums like that. How soon do you need something?
LAYNIE: We're supposed to meet with them Thursday.
NINA: I'll have precedents for you by Wednesday.
LAYNIE (smiling): Thanks.
NINA: How's Amy taking it?
LAYNIE: Her Highness wants someone's head to roll, as usual. I'd say something about blondes, but …
NINA: She may be a princess, but as a blonde, she's no match for a biker with power tools. [Laynie and Nina laugh out loud.] Besides, she's good to you. And Ross. She just -
LAYNIE: Doesn't understand those of us who weren't born with perfect skin?
NINA: Who can't plan an entire party while hyperventilating?
LAYNIE: Don't sweat it. (Leans in.) And don't ever tell her this, but … I love seeing her sweat. In more ways than one.
***