Unable to resist a small victory smile as he closed the door, Josh walked around the back of the truck and slid in behind the wheel. If even for a short time, he now had Jessie to himself. He felt a little guilty knowing that Stephen, Maggie, Carter and Sue-Lyn were likely sitting by their cells waiting for news on Jessie’s involvement in season two. Discreetly, he’d turned off his phone earlier, while he was in the men’s room at Liam’s. He didn’t want to be hounded for info before he was ready to respond.
Josh pointed the truck south towards Benny’s, the abandoned ice cream place where he and his co-star had really gotten to know each other last winter as they sat wrapped in a blanket sharing body heat and holding hands under the stars. Tonight’s weather was just the opposite - it was a hot, hazy late August evening. When he had parked backwards so that they could enjoy a view of the inky starlit Pacific Ocean, Josh snuck a closer glimpse at Jessie. He thought she was nothing less than exquisite in a loose racer-backed light blue silk top over a blue bra. She had taken off the cowboy boots in favor of a strappy pair of wedge sandals - she loved the boots, but there were limits to how long one can endure sweaty, hot feet. The sandals were refreshing and cool, and Josh took sneak peeks at Jessie’s painted burnt-orange toenails as she swung her feet back and forth off the tailgate of his truck. Josh, in the timeless faded jeans she loved best on him, sat next to her as they shared their stories of last summer.
“You’d like Prince Edward Island in the summertime,” Jessie was saying. “As you’re flying in you see this tremendous long thin span of concrete in the water. It’s the Confederation Bridge that links the Island to the mainland in New Brunswick, looking like some kind of gigantic water snake from the sky; it’s quite something. It’s, like, the longest bridge ever built over ice-covered waters - well, it used to be, I don’t know if it still is. Who knows what’s been built in the world since that bridge was constructed? Anyways I got in just before sunset, and between the water sparkling and the miniature sailboats and the sun popping golden and pink off the bridge, it was quite beautiful.”
Jessie glanced over at Josh to see if he was listening - he was, attentively, his brown eyes jovial and optimistic.
She continued, “The Island itself seen from the sky is like a checkerboard of greens and reds. A pastoral patchwork quilt, the locals say. Besides white sand beaches bordering the sandstone cliffs, there’s lots of picturesque farmland with quaint old barns and fancy new barns and these sentimental cedar shingled and clapboard Victorian farmhouses…salt marshes…ocean coves…did I tell you the dirt roads are red there?”
He laughed at her exuberance. “No Jessie. But I’ve heard that somewhere before. How red?”
“Like…a rusty color, I guess. I don’t know. Red. The dirt roads are fun in the rain. The mud is thick and the puddles are endless. I feel sorry for dog owners who live along those old country roads. I can imagine what their floors look like after little Max and Shadow have been out exploring in the rain!” She knew she was rambling, but her nerves were increasing again now that she found herself alone with this man under peeling Benny’s watchful eyes on the neglected sign above them. “Seriously, the unpaved roads are all red dirt. So are the fields after they’ve been plowed, before they’re planted with potatoes, wheat, canola. It’s so cool.” She sighed. “I would have liked to have shown it to you, my Island.” Jessie looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap.
Josh reached over and took her hand. They were those kinds of friends, the type that can touch and hold and hug and love without fear of judgment. Jessie cherished his simple gesture and pondered the way his strong hand felt between her fingers. She brushed a thumb along his and, in her heart, felt the pleasure of his touch. There were times in her life when she’d had nobody with whom to share that exquisite and often taken for granted basic necessity of life - the simple unfettered touch of another.
“Mostly I wrote songs for the new album that I told you about those few times that you actually called me,” she punched him lightly in the ribs, “but other times I just put on my floppy artist’s hat and wandered into the Saturday morning Farmers’ Markets for fresh veggies, and got ice cream at the dairy bars that are thriving in P.E.I., unlike poor Benny’s here…,” she waved her hand back at the vacant building and its giant flaking and peeling Benny on the sign behind them, “and then other times I went swimming, or kayaking. I got to go to some campfires on the beach, too, which was nice. The lady who owns the house where I stayed has a big family that was home on vacation for the summer, and they just lived down the road, so that was fun. They were friendly, and were careful about who they told that I was around, so it was pretty cool, actually.”
He brought up a difficult question. “Did you get to see your mother?” Josh studied her. She felt herself melting. What was it about this guy that she felt so comfortable talking to him about parts of her life she’d rather forget? She wondered if she would ever tell him about Charleston, about what had happened to her there, to Sandy.
“I found her.” Jessie leaned into his shoulder. “She and my dad were older when they had me, you know. I suppose that’s why I never had any brothers or sisters. I think Mom was maybe forty-two or something. So she’s like…seventy now.” She paused, remembering the seniors’ home in which she found her mother a month before. “I just went to a neighbor’s place, from when I used to live in our old house, my mom and dad and me. Wore the floppy hat,” she said and laughed. “She had no idea that I was the same Jessie Wheeler who sings some of her favorite ballads on the radio. She even commented on the coincidence that I shared the same name as someone famous. Anyways she made me tea and told me that my ugly step-monster father had died of cancer three years ago, and that my mom had been put into a home suffering from early Alzheimer’s. So I tracked her down and there she was, my old mom, sitting in a rocking chair by a window in this institutional kind of place with people ten and twenty years older.”
“Did she know you at all?”
“Nah. She talked about her daughter though. As if I were still twelve. I tried to tell her who I was but it was pointless.” She looked up into Josh’s eyes. “I’m not convinced that she has Alzheimer’s. I think she’s just disappeared into that place where people go when they can’t take anymore.”
He leaned forward and kissed Jessie on the forehead. They’d had their own experiences with that kind of pain when Jessie’s friend Terri had been killed last June. Only, fortunately enough, Jessie had come out of it.
“Maybe it’s genetic,” she whispered.
“Well,” he responded. “If it is, we’ll just have to make sure you get a nice room with a view of the ocean.” She laughed sadly and wrapped her arms around his waist. Josh tilted his forehead down to touch hers. “I’ll bring you chicken soup.”
“And flat whites from Rebel on a Mountain Coffee, right?” she inquired expectantly.
“I don’t know about that. Caffeine might not be the best thing for you. Might get you excited.”
Chuckling, Jessie added a postscript to her summer story. “I moved my mom from that place. I know they do a good job there, but I found a private care home by the ocean for her. It perked her up a little. A view of the ocean and all. I brought my dad’s Gibson and played some of his old songs.” She paused as she remembered her mom closing her eyes as tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.
She sighed.
“Those were the best years of her life, the ones with my dad. Not so sure about when I came along…maybe I have just always assumed I came between them, I don’t know. He died driving home for my twelfth birthday party, too, so…well…”
“Jessie. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill your dad.”
“I know that, Josh, but still..she went to pieces after she lost him. It was like I didn’t exist anymore. The thing that I will never know, though, is whether my leaving impacted her. Like Jackie, Terri’s mom - she was broken when Terri ran away. But I’m not really sure if my own mom even noticed
.”
“Of course she did,” he said softly. “How could anyone not notice if you were suddenly gone?”
“But Josh,” she added, urgently. “What if she did notice, and that’s what destroyed her mind?”
He paused. “What do you think she thinks about all the time?”
“My dad. His music.”
He smiled down at her. “Then likely she is in the world where she wants to be. A better place, in her mind.”
Jessie thought hard for a few moments as she watched the reflection of the night sky flicker in Josh’s eyes. Not much wonder she loved this man. At some point, she was going to have to tell him that. And she decided that with the pressure of the Drifters contract on her mind, it should likely be now.
But first, a whisper. “How did you get so smart?”
He brushed his lips against her, in that place in the corner of her eye just above her cheek, where friends can kiss friends without question. But it was killing Jessie. It was time to air the elephants in the room - or, under the sky. She took a deep breath.
“Okay,” she said. “Your turn. How was the feature?”
“It rocked. It was cool to work with Wes Anderson. He’s brilliant, not afraid to be eccentric, a little wacky. This film was his usual fare - an unconventional romantic comedy...lots of pesky mosquitos in the woods…it was hot…great cast and crew. Not as great as Drifters, though,” he added with a grin. “That’s a given.”
“Cool. So you, uh, had a fun summer, it seems? You had company on set, all that jazz.” She looked down, uncomfortable. Then back up at him with a smile as her hands rubbed his more profoundly. “Josh,” she intoned quietly. “You were all over the rag bags. With Leeza. You know that.”
He frowned as he realized their feet were entwined, her swinging legs propelling his from behind. “Jess, I don’t know, it’s not like it seemed. She showed up a few times, that’s all. She’s there twice, and all of a sudden to the tabloids it’s a relationship.”
Jessie’s heart suddenly felt like a stone. She was afraid to breathe. “Is it? A relationship?”
He glanced over at her, sitting there next to him on the tailgate of his truck, her blue eyes searching his. Josh pulled his hands away from hers and jumped off the truck, and then stared at the sky before turning back to her, facing her. He ran his fingers through his layered chestnut hair, and she longed to jump up and do the same, but she would have to wait. Slipping her fingers underneath her butt so as to force herself not to reach out to him, Jessie swallowed nervously, but her eyes locked into his and she didn’t waver. Enough wishy-washying around. She loved Josh, she had to tell him, and it was now or never, regardless of the consequences.
He skirted the issue, and her heart-stone sank.
“Jessie,” he said. “Everyone wants to know what the hell’s going on with season two. Why haven’t you signed?”
This wasn’t the response she expected. So - maybe he was still seeing Leeza. The gossip rags certainly seemed to think so. Jessie could feel a wetness pricking at her eyes. She stared at her colorful toenails, and realized she’d stopped swinging her feet. Slipping off the tailgate, she leaned away from him, her fingers gripping the edge of the truck. She would look like an idiot if she told him now, if he was still seeing that little tart. But she had a responsibility to Jonathon, the show’s executive producer. He was losing patience, and she knew it. The show had to be defined, written, conclusions faced and characters given new storylines. That was getting harder to do the longer they waited for Jessie to make up her mind.
Lordy, this was hard. She drew herself up tall and dove in.
“Okay, Josh,” she said. “Enough is enough. No more dicking around. Okay? Time for some honesty, for once?”
He tensed. Was this the last time he’d be alone with her? Was she leaving the show? Josh found himself staring at her, studying the blazing blue eyes intently, unable to look away.
Jessie exhaled, and then, “This is the thing. You remember season one and although it was surreal and fantastic, it was also hell. I can’t do that again. I can’t go through that agony again of touching you and being with you and of not really being with you, you know? Not again.” The last few words had come out in a whisper, as if she were afraid of what saying them at full volume might mean.
He shifted his weight. “Okay.” He was thinking. “So, what, you’re just going to run away and forget about all of us? About the incredible work we did, and Maggie and Sue-Lyn and Carter and Stephen…Pier, Jonathon, everyone? Go work alone again? Leave us all behind?”
She stood there with her feet planted in the dried up ground gaping at him, knowing what she needed to say but having no idea of how to say it. Jessie was hurt that he’d mentioned running away-she knew she did that; she ran away and left her problems behind on occasion but really, truly, in her life she felt that was occasionally the only choice. Once again she glimpsed a flicker of understanding into her own mother.
Josh filled in the gaps. She had to turn her head so she could more easily hear him over the hushed echo of the nearby incessant waves. “You don’t think I suffered too, Jessie? You don’t think it was hell for me, too, to have to be with you all those months, to be your shoulder to cry on, but that was all? Knowing you were marrying Charlie? Knowing what you-.” He stopped; bit his tongue. He couldn’t say anything more.
“What I what, Josh? What were you going to say? What I really felt all that time?”
Pause. Awkward moment. He ducked his head and toed at the dirt beneath his boot, his layered hair a cascading waterfall hiding a somewhat confused expression.
“Josh,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I yelled at you at the wrap party.”
That’s it, he thought. She is getting ready to say her good-byes. He looked up.
“I deserved it,” he said quietly.
Pause.
“Ahh. So you remember everything that happened-what I said to you.”
Pause.
“Yes.”
“You were pretty out of it.”
“No more out of it than you were in Ashland.”
Shit. Ashland. He’d brought up Terri’s funeral in Oregon.
“That’s right, Josh. And I remember everything I said in Ashland, in the hotel room, after you-retrieved me from the bathtub.” She changed her stance, summoned up her courage, and faced him square on. “And Josh, just so you know…I meant what I said.”
He stared at her, afraid to comprehend-what it would mean, how things could change, and what a risk that would be, with her.
“Jessie,” he breathed, aching for her to tell him more. Suddenly he, too, was desperate to know exactly where they stood. The thought of not having Jessie in his life at all was far worse than the idea of working with her while she kept herself at arm’s length on a personal level.
“So the thing is,” she went on, holding up her hand to stop him as he tried to speak. “I wasn’t really expecting to see you tonight but here you are, and here I am. And the thing is that I feel like there’s this little window of time opened up to us right now, and that it’s going to close soon. And when it does, that’s going to be the last chance for us, Josh, cause I am not sure if that window will ever open up again. Cause you will be out there doing your thing and I will be out there doing my thing and geez I think that will be it for us and I, for one, don’t want to live my life with any more regrets and so this is the thing…”
She took a deep breath, swallowed past the lump of cotton in her throat, and dove in further, as he ceased breathing altogether.
“I know what I said that night in Ashland, and I meant it, and just so you’re clear on this, that was the night things ended with Charlie because he had finally figured it out as well, and that thing is that, well…”
She blinked, summoning up the courage, begging her heart to stop threatening to leap out of her chest.
“I have loved you since the day I met you, Josh Sawyer. I have always loved you, and I don’t see that ever changing
and I am just wondering if, maybe, there might be a chance that you maybe feel the same way about me. And that’s why I can’t sign on to Drifters just yet, because until I know how you feel about me, and whether we have a chance together, I can’t go back to that show and be with you and yet not be with you. I have endured a sweet lot of hell in my lifetime, and that is not one hell I care to repeat. I want all of you. All of you. All that is you, Josh. Or nothing.”
Josh forgot about the hole he was digging in the dirt with the toe of his boot. He raised his chin and stared at her for a bit, thinking. Lifting his hands up to his hips, he planted them squarely, so that the vintage yellow shirt wrinkled underneath his fingers. In consternation he tilted his head, trying to discern exactly what she was saying. He was speechless, afraid to say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing.
She jumped in again. Heck, Jessie was already over her head. What was a little more water when you felt like you might already be drowning?
“And just so you know, if you choose it, life with me will be hell for you because the paparazzi and the media will be all over us and all over you and they have the power to destroy us. And there will be times when that will really suck.”
Josh sucked his bottom lip for a second as he stood there watching her. Awash with an exquisite bluish-white moonlight, Jessie was petulant, defiant, terrified and sweet all at once as she crossed and uncrossed her arms. Her shoulder length hair with the big curls at the ends was blowing in the light breeze, covering her eyes, which was frustrating Jessie as she swiped at it, although she didn’t really seem to notice it, so caught up was she in him and in their little window.
“Well,” he said reasonably, softly. “We could always fly to your magical Island and hide away.” The sweet anticipation of that - extended time alone with this girl who stood apprehensively before him, in love with her and she with him - was more than he could bear, and finally he grinned. Jessie could see that Josh was playing her a little, standing over there four feet away looking sexy and adorable, pretending he was contemplating an offer to buy chocolate covered peanuts instead of raisins.
Promises Page 2
