Promises

by Susan Rodgers

The music was captivating, enduring, an old traditional romantic piece that brushed around and underneath them like a fresh breeze in an ancient city, lifting the lovers to greater heights and towards the possibilities of dreams and happy-ever-afters. It was the prelude to their lovemaking, and theirs to rejoice within, as Adele carried them to the secret place inside her own soul from whence the music was borne. The restlessness that suffused both Josh and Jessie for so long was gone now, buried underneath a mutual and sincere trust, respect and devotion, elevated by passion and song and a longing borne of distance that now, in their reunited state, the two lovers took the time to cherish.

  Touch was the sense both underestimated until the day they first found each other. Now, imbuing themselves into the slow waltz tempo of the music that led and orchestrated their dance, they allowed themselves the exquisite pleasure of time to experiment and reacquaint and feel the simple gracious gifts of their bodies and souls. Jessie let her fingers wander over Josh’s broad athletic shoulders and then pass down his back. She applied a gentle pressure that brought his body closer to her, and she could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and inviting, as his face was turned slightly towards her. Josh leaned forward and let his right hand frolic playfully in Jessie’s hair, twisting ringlets as he had seen her do so many times when she was nervous about something. She felt his smile when he buried his nose in the auburn locks - it was in his body, that happiness, emanating from his heartbeat deep within, from that long ago innocent place where children haven’t yet experienced the heartache of lost pets and other worries.

  He was here, in front of her – Josh - and the music they moved slowly to was a pedestal on which to stand as they declared their love with the divine magic of touch and breath; of soft sighs borne of the sweetest knowing, of pleasure savored and anticipated, of realizing that you have found the one you will love until the day your life on earth is done, and perhaps even afterwards when the mysteries of the universe are revealed.

  Her head still on his shoulder, Jessie slipped a finger under the T-shirt and then, slowly, allowed the palm of her hand to lie flat on the warm skin underneath. Josh helped her out by lifting his shirt up so that she could place her second hand there as well. He rested his hands over hers, just to feel the closeness of her and, by osmosis, to bring her inside him. If they could have melded together as one that way, they would have, but there were other ways to feel as a complete whole, and so they took steps to head in that direction instead.

  After slipping up her top, Josh allowed Jessie the freedom to pull the T-shirt up over his head, too, and then he urged her close so that their bellies could rub up against each other. He smiled down at her and tipped her face up to meet his so that he could taste her lips and tease her with his tongue in sweet anticipation of the intimate coupling to come.

  Laughing, she lifted her arms to wrap him loosely around the neck, and they danced magically together in the moonlight’s embrace, two people living life to the fullest in the way that God intended - together, joyous - enjoying a simple tenderness in the way that negated such artifice as fame and success and money.

  When the song ended and their kisses intensified to the point of no return, Josh let Jessie take the lead. She fumbled with his belt buckle, her body already trembling, and when she looked up she saw not just an electric desire in his gaze, but love too - and it brought back memories that brought tears to her eyes. Memories of other men, other times…some good, some bad…and she wondered what she had done to deserve this man in front of her, and a trust in his devotion to her that left no room for doubt.

  Josh helped her with the buckle, and then he took her by the hand and led her towards his cozy bedroom, a comfortable place in which to relish each other fully and completely. Their lovemaking had settled into a known and meaningful exploration with a tempo and a rhythm all its own, but this night - after being apart for two and a half weeks - was more urgent and intense.

  When Josh climaxed, Jessie’s thumb was in his mouth and he felt her final satisfied cry before he could hear her. He lay on top of her panting while her body squeezed him again and again in the serene afterglow of their coupling, and then he broke the splashes of the enchanting moonlit beams by leaning to the left and blocking their light as he slowly pulled away. He reached up and grasped the back of her head, focused her mouth on his and secured another kiss, this one gentle, long and lingering, testament to the way he intended to love her - forever.

  They lay that way - together, for quite some time – lost in each other’s eyes and only speaking through touch and soft whispers, humbled, until nature called and bathroom breaks were a necessity, and then Josh retrieved some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and they teased each other mercilessly while they shared a spoon and ate it in bed.

  In the weeks and months to come, Jessie and Josh settled into as normal an existence as possible in the heady world of entertainment. As Josh acted in his feature film up the hill at Simon Fraser University in nearby Burnaby, Jessie recorded the last of the fresh songs for her new album. She also spent time on the SFU set watching her man and hanging out with him during lighting set-ups. He had come a long way as an actor over that first season of Drifters and then on the Wes Anderson film. He was a joy to watch. His career was exploding.

  Visits to Jessie in the recording studio on Robson were Josh’s priority when he had the time. Josh was enamored with her music. Secretly, he was tickled to be the motivation and source of some of her new material, a fact that Jessie didn’t hide. She was in love, although she had been hurting over the past year as her relationship with Charlie was grinding to a halt. Her life was the perfect inspiration for songwriting - her music, surreal.

  Late one afternoon in the Keating building on Robson an auburn orange sun painted the studio lobby with long brushstrokes of optimism as Josh touched Jessie’s lips with a soft kiss and said good-bye. He ran his tongue lightly over the underside of her top lip before he left, leaving her with woozy legs and a burning anticipation for the evening’s activities. He was needed back on set. Even after a few months, it was still a challenge to turn and walk away from her. Inclined against the reception desk as she watched him go, Jessie threw a wistful glance towards Charles, who wandered up with a steaming earthenware coffee mug in his hand. He threw his other arm loosely over his recording artist’s shoulders.

  “Okay, you win,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Even Dee is falling prey to his powers. Slowly.”

  Jessie wrapped an arm around her producer’s waist. “He’s amazing, Charles. He cooks and does dishes. I’ve even witnessed him vacuuming. What more could a girl want?”

  “Ouch,” Charles replied. He rarely touched a dish and he preferred French restaurants or Carlotta’s cooking to trying his hand at any kind of cuisine. “Touché. He doesn’t wear ties. So there.” He fingered his cranberry silk tie, which he wore with class and elegance over a perfectly cut expensive grey button down shirt.

  “Give him a chance. He’s good to me. We’re happy.”

  “You know,” he said, his voice suddenly lowered a few notches as they walked back towards the studio arm in arm, “last June Josh came to me and asked me to do some nosing around for you. Checking into the man who supposedly dropped Terri at the drug house.”

  Jessie’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah.” She was afraid to look at him.

  He continued. “There wasn’t much to go on. Nobody’s been able to find out anything. All we really have is a vague description, and even that’s muddled. Matt and his crew did a lot of asking around too, at Revolver, at the shelter…”

  Hopeful, questioning, she looked up at him. Charles answered her with a shake of his head.

  “Sorry, Jessie.” A pause, and she watched the older man crinkle his brow as he summoned up the courage to tell her a little more.

  “Jess,” he started, hesitantly. “After we hit a road block with that-asshole, whoever he was-Matt and I deduced that the man you thought might have droppe
d Terri off had something to do with the - the things - that happened in Charleston when you lived there.”

  Deduced. De-Deuced. Jessie couldn’t help but blanch at his choice of words. Where was Charles going with this?

  “Honey, the thing is… don’t be mad,” he beseeched her, “but after we dropped you off at the airport the day you flew to P.E.I., Matt and I took the jet to Charleston. We checked out a few things. It’s common knowledge, for instance, that you worked at that club The Renegade. Owned by some highbrow Southern gentleman named McCall. The place has become quite famous because you played there.”

  Instantly, Jessie stopped and swooned over a couple of white Ikea chairs placed in the hallway for Charles’ clients. Charles and Matt, two people she loved, were in Deuce’s club? Oh, God, she was going to faint. Or throw up. Or both.

  Charles froze. Jessie’s physiological reaction to his and Matt’s trip to Charleston was immediate and disturbing. Suddenly her face was piqued, the blood precipitously gone and her expression white and pained. He wasn’t prepared for this response, even though Charles knew things had been bad for her in that great city. He set down his coffee cup and turned her face up towards him so that she had no choice but to look him in the eye.

  Quietly, “Jessie, honey, what happened when you lived in Charleston? Did this man hurt you?”

  “Not now, Charles,” she whispered. “I mean, I can’t talk about this, okay?”

  Charles decided he had waited long enough to hear about Charleston. Damn it, Jessie was like his daughter. She was terrified - at what, the mention of McCall’s name? Charleston? The Renegade? He dove in further as Jessie stumbled onto the first chair and dropped her head between her knees. She stared at the smiley faces on the yellow plaid Converse Chucks. She crossed one toe over the other.

  “We asked this McCall guy if he had ever been to Vancouver.”

  Jessie’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to leap out of her chest. The ringing in her ears was so loud she could barely hear Charles. She wondered whether he could hear her heart in its erratic state, or spy its attempt to exit her chest as it pounded.

  “He said yes, many times.” Charles knelt down in front of Jessie and tried to gauge her terrorized expression.

  It was everything Jessie could do to keep herself from passing out. “Charles,” she managed to breathe despite the dizziness that threatened her vision. “Did you ask…if…” She couldn’t finish.

  “If he was here the weekend that Terri died? Yes, we did. We asked him that. He said yes.”

  This time, she couldn’t hold back. Her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth, Jessie moaned.

  “Honey,” he continued, stroking her hair. “He had a solid alibi for that weekend here. And if he is the man you are concerned about, then why would he admit to being here? He would know we were asking for a reason…anyway, Matt had him thoroughly checked out by his contacts at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Interpol. He’s clean, Jessie. At least in their eyes, he is.”

  Jessie just kept rocking. The memories conjured up by any mention of Deuce McCall were not thoughts she wanted to remember. Alibi, shmalibi. Deuce could talk his way out of anything, pay his way out of anything. Of course he had arranged some kind of alibi, likely with payment of a BMW or Porsche. My God. There’s a good chance that it was he who had drugged Terri, likely with promises of expensive dresses and jewelry. And he’s been here many times? In Van? Oh God.

  “If you’re worried about this man, Jessie, about him hurting you, we can step up security. But then you have to listen to Matt - you have to play by the rules. No more sneaking off for long drives on your own. We can put a tail on McCall, see what he’s up to for a while.”

  “You can’t tail Deuce McCall,” she whispered, still looking down. “And you can’t fully protect me or anyone else, Charles,” she said. “It’s impossible. But thank you for wanting to try.”

  And then Jessie did something unusual. She leaned forward and kissed the top of Charles’ balding head. Shaking, she got up, retreated into the studio, and left him wondering.

  Jessie’s mood spiraled downward for the rest of the evening, and Charles commented later to Dee that they hadn’t been able to get anything else out of her in the recording session that day. She had withdrawn into herself again.

  “I don’t know,” he said, as he pulled on a striped pajama top. “There’s something about this McCall asshole. Obviously some bad shit went down in Charleston. Maybe we should just put a tail on him for a while.”

  Sitting in bed making notes on a script she intended to pass on to Jessie, Dee spoke cautiously. “Charles,” she said. “Whatever happened, it was a long time ago. If this Deuce guy has been in Vancouver, well it doesn’t seem like he’s tried to contact Jessie. But keep an eye on him anyway, okay?” She closed the script and pondered the situation. “Maybe we should talk to Josh. Maybe she’s told him more. In the meantime, I can’t see that it would hurt to just watch him for a while, this Deuce guy. See what his days are like. Especially if he comes back to Vancouver.”

  Charles climbed into their mammoth king-sized bed and snuggled up against Dee, his head on a favorite ultra-soft goose down pillow. “It’s so strange, though, he seems clean. Matt’s system of checks is pretty thorough, especially given his contacts with his old policing buddies.”

  “Charles,” Dee said, running her fingers through the last vestiges of her husband’s thinning hair. “There are a lot of folks out there who are supposedly clean. Then they get caught after years of sexually abusing their daughters, and we wonder how they fooled us for all that time.”

  Raising his head off the pillow, Charles stared at his graceful wise wife. It killed him to think that anybody might have hurt Jessie that way. His eyes were steel ribbons of angst. “Dee. Do you think that’s what it was? That someone abused her - like that?”

  “Yes,” she said delicately. “I do. But we knew something was terribly wrong when we first met Jessie, Charles. It seems logical that it might have had something to do with sexual abuse. This isn’t news to you,” she added, chiding him.

  “I know, but now that I’ve met that man, I could kill him. I could. I could slit his throat.” He stared hard at her and then suddenly sat up in bed, rising blood pressure inciting a spreading flush across his angry face.

  Dee sighed, and set her script on the bedside table. “Charles, as I said, it was a long time ago. Our haunted girl is less tortured now. She is beyond happy with Josh, in fact this is the happiest she has been since we’ve known her. She’s looking forward to going back to Drifters; she has friends, finally. Let’s just get Matt to keep an eye on this McCall for a while and, in the meantime, celebrate this time with her.”

  Charles smirked. “In that case, you’ll have to try harder to accept Josh. She’s crazy about him.”

  “I’m trying! It’s just that, well, you talk about this McCall guy…what about Josh? He has a reputation for fighting, for substance abuse; even though he’s Jonathon’s son, he’s still coming from a troubled background thanks to Wes Sawyer. He’s not exactly my number one choice for Jessie. No mother wants her daughter hooking up with a guy like that.”

  “No mother, huh?” He allowed himself a small smile and attempted to tickle his wife, but she pushed him away. “Jessie is a big girl. Josh is trying hard. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, Dee.” He sobered. “Innocent until proven guilty, my love.”

  They snuggled in together and enjoyed some nice lovemaking of their own before drifting off to sleep with the knowledge that their Jessie was currently safe in the arms of the man she loved, and not with some pedophile that preyed on young women. Charles and Dee were reasonably certain, should Deuce McCall or any other sick predator enter Jessie’s life, that they could protect her. But they didn’t know the power that this psychopath had over Jessie. They were unaware of his plans to control her. They had no idea that the sexual predator they feared was in fact capable of much, much worse.
>
  The next day, Charles instructed Matt to put a tail on the Charleston man, which he did, and whom Deuce became aware of almost right away. After a few months, with Deuce playing to the miniature cameras and to the supposedly invisible security team, they relaxed their surveillance and eventually let it go altogether.

  But Jessie didn’t forget, and she lay awake at night watching Josh sleep and sometimes, at least at first, she went into the bathroom and closed the door and cried, because the memories of Sandy and Rachel and now Terri were so damn strong, and she knew in her gut that Deuce killed Terri too, maybe not directly, but with drugs, and for God’s sake now there was Josh, not to mention Charles and Dee and Maggie and Sue-Lyn and Stephen and Carter…it was just too much to take. Loving people meant that suddenly she cared again.

  She prayed that Deuce McCall would leave her and the people she loved alone, but since Terri’s death - and then the love she had found with Josh - Jessie continuously looked over her shoulder. She wondered constantly whether her old boss would attempt another move, and if his twisted game would begin anew.

  For in Jessie Wheeler’s experience, nothing good in life ever came without a price.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  Prior to the Drifters premiere in North America, Jonathon set up a press junket followed by a small tour for his lead cast. Although they were on a tight schedule, Jessie and her friends had a great time hanging out together. The show was already the most anticipated drama premiere of the season so the interviewers were, for the most part, on their best behavior. Jonathon had stressed to his own marketing team that the interviewers needed to adhere to a certain code or he’d pull his cast. He was, of course, referring to questions about the newly public relationship between Jessie and Josh. He wanted to ensure that his two lead cast - his son, in particular - were treated with respect. The media hadn’t been kind when they initially got wind of the romance. The usual questions were posed - when had the relationship burgeoned, and what impact had it had on the break-up between Jessie and Charlie? Was it fly-by-night, as in the case of many lead cast whose characters were hooked up, or was it deep enough to survive the challenges life could throw towards new couples? Jessie and Josh knew the answer - they knew their feelings were genuine. Jonathon trusted them, and hoped they would survive. But he, like Charles and Dee, also understood the pitfalls of celebrity romance. As well, Jonathon wanted Drifters to succeed on its own merit, not on the curiosity and gossip of news-hungry interviewers.