He tipped his ankle over again, punctuating an ever-widening grin.
Finally, an exquisitely relieved victor, Jessie smirked back at him. Josh covered the few unsteady steps that would seal their deal. Extending an arm, he grasped her hand and pulled his girl close.
“Of course,” he whispered into her curls. “Of course I love you back, silly girl. I have always loved you too.”
Tears were threatening. She had waited so long for this moment, for him to tell her that what she’d always wondered – believed - was true.
“Always?”
“Always. And forever. For always.”
“I kinda thought maybe you did.”
“You knew I did. All along.” He was murmuring in her soft hair, kissing her forehead and cheeks by her eyes and then the hollow of her neck and soon her pink lips. Jessie was heartened that their truths had now extinguished all borders. His feathery kisses were free to land wherever they wanted.
Josh stopped planting a plethora of chaste kisses and gazed at his girl. Radiant and over-the-moon happy, Jessie swiped away at leaky tears with the back of her hand. With her thumbs she erased the wetness his joyful acceptance of her had leaked onto his lightly grizzled cheeks; then they climbed into the back of the new pick-up and christened it by making love on the old comforter that had held them close many months before. As the stars winked in pleasure and continued on their everlasting journey overhead, Jessie pulled Josh to her, and the magic was complete.
***
Chapter Two
“Ahhhh!”
Jessie screamed and ducked as a small lime green cushion with teal and brown stripes flew through the air, almost hitting her on the head. Squealing, she snatched the cushion and threw it back at her adversary, but Josh caught it, firing before she could duck behind the soft leather couch in his media room. It landed in the middle of her back. Propelled forward, the singer threw herself on her belly atop the couch, then grabbed the matching pillow and covered her head with it.
They were both laughing uncontrollably - it felt so damn good just to let go. After months of uncertainty and confused feelings, plus a summer apart, Jessie and Josh were downright joyous. Ecstatic since they’d finally made their feelings known to each other last night-with the results for which each had silently hoped-the pressure was off.
Now it was time to play.
The pillow fight started after a surreal night in each other’s arms. The two lovers drove to Josh’s house in the early dawn after staring into each other’s eyes in the back of the pick-up for hours. It was the most blissful, serene feeling either had experienced, although Jessie had fond, faded memories of her abbreviated time with Sandy. Like her first love, she and Josh were similar in their past hurts; they were two scarred people who had hidden their true selves from the world for so long that now they’d found each other, somehow the world was right again. The stars were once more aligned, and there was a strength and power in their ‘two-ness’ that would make the world easier to face, despite the certainty that the media would surely trounce Josh and Jessie’s newfound togetherness once they caught on.
They’d had a few hours sleep in Josh’s big comfy bed, not nearly enough considering the demands of Jessie’s very physical show rehearsal scheduled for that afternoon, plus she was expected at Charles and Dee’s for dinner at eight that evening. But it would have to do - she’d get by on the adrenaline rush of being in love. The first pillow had been tossed as they argued over one of the numbers in Jessie’s show, the upbeat tune Josh had been watching from the entrance to the theatre upon his arrival at the Orpheum the day before.
Each of Jessie’s numbers in the show had a staged theme that included props, set decoration, and a costumed dance number. The Civil War number was the finale. She wrote the song years ago during her time in Charleston, and had only recently dug it out and fine-tuned it. The lyrics were about the futility of war – the ruthless violence and the willingness to lay aside social mores. In essence, the song was a metaphor for her life and the darkness she had experienced at the hands of Deuce McCall in Charleston. It was a buoyant fast paced tune, a call to passive arms, and she sang it with passion and gusto, jumping and stamping her feet and raising her arms in a call to decisive yet non-violent action. Behind her, a multi-media presentation illustrated and accentuated the lyrics; dancers carried flags and prop muskets, and pyrotechnics flashed bright lights akin to gunfire. The number would be a fantastic whimsical emotional display at the Orpheum the following weekend.
There was one catch - being a Canadian newly indoctrinated with an interest in history, Josh wasn’t well versed in the American Civil War, despite the fact that on Drifters he played a war veteran. But he had somewhere along the way, perhaps in a high school history class, thought he’d heard that the North had fired the first shots, the catalyst to the physical blow-up elevating decades old tensions in the Union. In fact, he was quite adamant about that. Jessie, who had lived in Charleston for three years, knew otherwise. Playfully annoyed at his stubborn insistence, she pushed his buttons as they perused the DVD collection in the media room.
“Josh, I lived there, and believe it or not I checked out all of Charleston’s amazing museums. I even did the silly touristy carriage ride tours.” She blinked as she caught herself remembering Sandy and Rachel cozied alongside her on a bumpy carriage, the three of them laughing heartily and swapping jokes with the driver, a twenty something dark-haired girl with an enchanting Southern accent who was wearing Confederate grey, and who had to occasionally stop to drop a marker on the streets when her big horse, Earl, decided to relieve himself. She told the kids it was protocol. Drivers marked the streets in order to ensure staff came along later to hose down the waste to reduce the eau de Charleston, as she called it. Jessie smiled in memory at the guffaws that had drawn from Sandy. She could remember her first boyfriend as clearly as if it were yesterday, sitting there in stitches next to her on the old cracked leather seat, teasing Rachel as they swayed gently from side to side with the motion of the carriage. The three musketeers had shared a lot of laughs in those heady days.
Josh noticed her expression change, so he grabbed his girl around the waist and swung her around, planting a big kiss on her lips. “The North fired first because they were hungry and short of supplies; they needed their supply ships to land safely at Fort Sumter.”
Giggling, Jessie returned his tight squeeze. God, how good it felt just to hold him, and to nuzzle in his neck. She sighed with pleasure. But she still had a point to make. “Josh. Beauregard fired first, at 4:30 a.m., because the South had heard there was a supply ship on its way down to Fort Sumter. And they didn’t want the Union Blue reinforced in any way, shape or form. The North didn’t fight back until like 7:30 or something, then there was, like, this long bombardment that lasted more than a day. Finally, the commanding officer at the fort surrendered. Anderson, I think, was his name. Google it.”
Josh beamed and brushed his lips behind Jessie’s ear. He inhaled deeply. She smelled of the lavender he remembered from months before. “Jessie,” he said, without conviction. “I’m telling you, the North fired the first shots.” But he knew he was wrong now - he was just enjoying teasing her, getting a rise out of her.
She withdrew from his strong embrace and crossed her arms, pouting. “Are you always going to be this stubborn?”
He paused, tilting his head and grinning at her. Then, quicker than lightning, he reached behind Jessie and grabbed the offending cushion. He held it up with both arms above and in front of his face, and then let a threatening growl erupt slowly. Spying his menacing look, Jessie had screeched, turned and ran behind the couch, and the fight was on. They chased each other around the media room, laughing and just having fun, until the moment when Jessie threw herself on the couch in surrender.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, Josh lay down on top of her, then Jessie rolled over onto her back and they cuddled for a while as their breathing returned to normal. Josh took the op
portunity to ask a question that had been on his mind for the past few months.
“Jessie,” he said with the reverence the query deserved. “Since we’ve been talking about Charleston…at the cabin when Terri died you told me someday you’d talk to me. About what happened there that made you leave. And never go back, from what I understand. You never play there, right?”
Lying there in his arms, Jessie felt as safe as she thought it would ever be possible to feel. He was strong, muscular…but Sandy had been, as well. Her old boyfriend had been working as a landscaper, and was tanned and robust.
“I don’t know, Josh,” she responded faintly. “Maybe one of these days.” She couldn’t look at him, and her stomach clenched with the terror of remembrance. She stared at a small crack in her new man’s ceiling, the laughter gone as if it were the sun, and the memory an intrusive dismal grey cloud.
He grasped her chin in his big hand and turned her face so that she looked at him. “Jess,” he said. “It’s me you’re talking to. You can tell me.”
She smiled sadly and rewarded his patience with a chaste kiss on the lips. “Josh,” she said. “It was bad, but it’s over now. I lost people I loved - two people - a good friend, and my boyfriend at the time. I only survived because…” she blanched, recalling a terrible time in her life. “I think because the person who caused all the trouble thought death was too easy for me. That remembering would be the worst way he could torture me. And he was right. It’s been ten years of remembering. Every day and every night. Every second of every day. My past holds me hostage, Josh.”
“I get that, Jessie. There are things about my past that I don’t like to think about either. We all have skeletons. And I recognize that yours are more frightening than most. But…maybe this isn’t a burden you should be carrying alone.” He paused. “Have you told Charles and Dee? Or ever gone to any counseling?”
“No.” A whisper. “I just want to keep it to myself. And not worry anyone else. Especially Dee. Or you,” she said, hooking her finger in a belt loop on his jeans.
“I’ve got news for you, Jess. I love you, and I want to know everything about you. What desserts you like, what films you like to watch, your favorite color…” he softened, and ran a thumb over her cheek, “…what hurts my girl the most.”
“Someday,” she said. “Not now though, okay? I don’t want to ruin what we’ve finally found by talking about something…someone…I lost years ago.”
“Two people,” he said tenderly, thinking about the extraordinary amount of pain this twenty-eight year old girl had apparently experienced in her lifetime.
“Yes,” she said. Then, “Blue.”
“Hmmmm?” he asked absently, kissing her neck.
“My favorite color. It’s blue. But not just any blue. That indigo color the sky turns in late afternoon on a sunny summer day.”
She could feel him smile, his lips at her neck, and she turned to face him, marveling in this exceptional man she loved from the moment she bent down to talk to him in Charlie’s garbage. As they lay there and kissed, wrapped up in new love founded sincerely over time on deep friendship, Josh thought of another question he wanted to ask - about the man in the blue overcoat she asked him to speak to Charles about. He was wondering if anything came of that, and reminded himself to ask Charles what he and Matt found out about that club owner they were looking into when they flew to Charleston in June.
But now was not the time. He felt bad for bringing up nasty memories for Jessie on their first full day as a couple.
As Jessie surrendered to the intensity of Josh’s kisses, and then to the exquisite pleasure of the hand he slipped under the old T-shirt of his that she threw on that morning, she thought briefly about the Civil War number from the show, and hoped that her own battles relating to Charleston were as done and gone as those of the haunted boys who’d fought for North and South many years ago.
Then she was lost in the glorious abyss of desire, and the last cohesive thought she recalled until later was one of gratitude that the evils of life were balanced with such exquisite, extraordinary beauty.
***
Josh dropped Jessie off at the Orpheum with a coffee in hand. He kissed her tenderly with regret that she had to go to work on their first day together. He worried that she’d be exhausted by the time they showed up at Dee’s dinner that evening, but she was a fighter; their discussion about Charleston had proven that about Jessie. Something wicked had happened in the great historic city, but she had survived - at least, a part of her had survived. There was still a great sadness in Jessie, despite the deep love and joy he saw in her sea-pearl eyes last night and today.
Someday she’ll tell me, he thought, as he watched her wave So long to him from the backstage door. In the meantime, he was off to find some flowers for the great and imposing Deirdre Keating.
Jessie’s manager would be popping into rehearsal today, and Jessie planned to request an extra seat at the dinner table for the evening. Jonathon, Drifters’ executive producer and the Keatings’ friend, was going to be there with his glamorous raven-haired wife, Giselle. Jessie knew it was a sort of ambush as he awaited her decision on season two, but she thought he would be pleased with her final decision, although she wondered how he would respond to the news that his two lead cast were dating.
There was another element to the mysterious Jonathon. Charles and Dee had told Jessie that Josh was cast in Drifters right out of rehab because he was Jonathon’s son. As Jessie pulled on a pair of leggings for the first dance number, she wondered whether Josh had any idea that his boss was also his biological father. It was a hell of a secret to keep from someone, especially given Josh’s rocky relationship with the indomitable Wes Sawyer, the man he’d always thought of as his dad. She felt a surge of love for her new man and the difficulties he had experienced in his own life. Yeah, Charleston was bad for her, but there were others in the world with problems - not the least of whom, her Josh. Jessie didn’t see any real resemblance between Josh and Jonathon, as Josh really favored his mother but, if one looked close, both men did have similar eyes and high cheekbones. Jonathon’s hair, too, was long and layered, but wavy and snow white, whereas Josh had gorgeous chestnut hair that, thinking about how it fell over his eye, made Jessie shiver in adoration.
She found the elegant Deirdre Keating already at the Orpheum, standing on stage in a creamy-beige business suit with matching heels, in serious consultation with Priya. Jessie wandered over, stretching her biceps and triceps in preparation for a hard afternoon’s work, as Dee looked up with a smile and awarded her a welcoming hug.
“Hi, honey,” she said. Then her eyes narrowed at Jessie, who was already stifling a yawn with the sleeve of the yellow hoodie she stretched over her fingers. “You’re exhausted. Did you not sleep well last night?”
Jessie colored instantly, staring down at the scuffed stage as she stretched first one calf and then the other. “No. Not much, actually.” But she was beaming and, with the instinct of a mother who knew her child well, the corners of Dee’s lips curved up into a tiny smile.
“I see. Did some of you go out last night?” She knew that the dancers sometimes went for a drink after rehearsal. Jessie must have met someone. A tiny alarm bell started to ring in the back of Dee’s mind. Any new man Jessie met would have to be “managed” through the media.
Bouncing by in black yoga pants, Kayla gave Jessie a little squeeze before starting some gentle side stretches. “What’d you and Josh do after Paul and I left last night? Did you stay at Liam’s much longer? Ya gotta like the Irish. Comfort food and comfort tunes.”
“Umm…,” Jessie put both sleeves over her face, which turned crimson red. She toed a dust ball on the black stage and dared a peek up at Dee. Her manager was standing there in complete shock. She was hoping that Jessie’s affection for the troubled guy would have evaporated along with the dewy crystal prisms of many Prince Edward Island summer mornings.
“Oh, honey,” she said, sympathetic but
terribly unsure about the match.
Jessie removed her sleeves from her beet red face as Kayla stopped stretching and stared at her. “Dee,” Jessie asked innocently, her blue eyes wide, “could you set an extra place for dinner?”
Deirdre was almost run over by the dancers as Priya called “Places, please!” and got the rehearsal under way.
***
The elegant rosewood dining table was set with Dee’s finest tableware, antique red and white Royal Crown Derby inlaid with gold. Dim lighting was employed to allow the candles to flicker pleasingly. Crystal goblets encouraged the soft light as the tiny flames were reflected in the glass. A mild draft floated in the open window, cooling the high ceilinged room with its decorative medallion highlighting a twinkling crystal chandelier. In short, Dee wasn’t helping to quash any romantic liaisons at her dinner table that evening.
Jonathon was especially surprised to have his two lead cast arrive at dinner together. Mystified, he wondered whether something was once again going on between the two, or whether Josh was simply offering moral support to Jessie regarding the season two question. After all, the two had become good friends. That was not a secret.
After they were seated, Carlotta served a selection of warm cheeses with cranberry and phyllo pastry. Jessie smiled warmly up at her and, in return, Carlotta gave her a little hug. The maid detected something different about Jessie - it seemed a weight had been lifted off the girl’s shoulders. She was relieved - she had overheard many conversations about the season two decision and figured Jessie would be on the hotspot tonight.
Charles shook Josh’s hand firmly to counteract the somewhat cold shoulder Jessie’s new boyfriend was receiving from Dee. Charles liked Josh, but he planned to have a serious chat with him about Jessie. Matt, the Keating head of security, would be present. The riot act would be read. Nobody would hurt Jessie Wheeler.
Promises Page 3
