Starbright

by Richland, Alexandra

  Aidan didn’t have a kitchen table or chairs yet, so he suggested, rather apologetically, that they eat in the living room. By the time they sat on the couch with the plates, utensils, and warmed pie, the rain had started again. It pounded against the windows and roof, accompanied by sporadic flashes of lightning and distant thunder, creating the impression they were dining by candlelight in an expensive restaurant instead of his poorly furnished living room next to an insipid table lamp.

  The pie tasted as wonderful as it did on Thanksgiving. After they ate, Aidan insisted he would wash the dishes later, when she was gone. It took some convincing, but Beth finally gave in. He dumped the dirty dishes in the sink, grabbed another blanket from his bedroom, and returned to the couch.

  Beth curled up beside him as he sat down. He pulled on the hem of the T-shirt, making sure it covered her properly, and draped the blanket over her. She responded with an appreciative smile. As he pulled his fingers through her hair, which was now almost completely dry, he studied her soft features. How did he ever get so lucky?

  “Did Nathan tell you about the house we saw?”

  “Yeah, I asked him about it this morning and he told me you put in an offer.” Aidan fanned her hair out over the blanket. “I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure you were getting a good deal.”

  Beth reached out from under the covers and took his hand. “I think it’s sweet.”

  Aidan brushed his other hand to her cheek. “I know Nate’s a big help, but I want you to know you can come to me, too, if you ever need anything.”

  “Yes, I know. I just didn’t want to bother you because you’re going through your own move.”

  “You’re never a bother, little dove.” Aidan grazed his fingertips down the side of her face. He couldn’t stop touching her and staring at her, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  Beth opened her mouth as if to say something but remained silent.

  His eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

  Aidan wasn’t so easy dissuaded. “Please tell me.”

  “Well, it’s more of a question, actually.”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Shoot.”

  “Have you ever done anything like that before?” Beth looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

  “Done what?”

  “Um… like the stuff we did in the bathroom.”

  Aidan’s hand froze in her hair. It took him a few moments to determine the best way to answer her question was to let his heart do the talking.

  “Baby, with you, it’s like I’m experiencing everything for the first time.”

  “So you have done that before.” Beth lowered her gaze to the blanket. “And more I presume?”

  All Aidan could do was nod.

  “Have there been… many women?”

  Aidan squeezed her hand. “As far as I’m concerned there’s only been you, and that’s the truth.”

  Beth smiled, seemingly satisfied with his response. Aidan assumed the matter was settled.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” she said after a moment. “I just wanted to know because of my own lack of experience when it comes to intimacy. I worry you might expect a certain ability and I won’t measure up. You see, Connie told me—”

  “Look, baby,” Aidan was unable to hide his dissatisfaction over Connie’s intrusion into their relationship, “I know Connie is your friend, and she’s only trying to help”—he doubted that last part—“but there is no standard to intimacy. You have to do what feels right for you, and believe me when I say that everything we’ve shared so far has been amazing.”

  “What about Lydia Dale?” Beth uttered the words in a hurry.

  Aidan looked at her strangely. “What does Lydia have to do with any of this?”

  Beth pulled the blanket up to her chin and averted her eyes.

  Aidan shuddered as he put two and two together.

  “You think I had sex with Lydia?” He made a face. Her name tasted like acid on his tongue.

  Beth shrugged.

  “Let me tell you something, okay?” Aidan turned her head so she met his gaze. “The encounters I had back in New York were during a very dark time in my life. None of those broads meant anything to me. Since coming out to L.A., I haven’t been with any woman but you, in any form of intimacy. And from now on, there will only be you, got it?”

  A smile spread across her lips. “Got it.”

  “Where did that idea about me and Lydia come from anyway?”

  “I was just trying to make sense of your reaction when she returned to the Venus Rising rehearsal on the afternoon you caught me crying under the piano.”

  “You mean when I took off because I couldn’t stand the sight of her?” Aidan flashed a grin. “We weren’t even remotely nice to each other, so how’d you jump to the conclusion she and I slept together?”

  “Now that I think about it, I don’t know.” Beth giggled. “I suppose after Olivia told me about Hilda Hooper’s column regarding the two of you, my imagination ran wild. I can’t say I thought for sure you and Lydia had been together, but I always wondered. I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”

  “Hilda Hooper is a gossipmonger who likes to make up stories.” Aidan tucked her under his arm and kissed the top of her head. “Next time you have questions, ask me directly.”

  Beth snuggled up to him. “In that case, what is your history with Lydia? Not that I don’t trust you. I’m just curious.”

  Aidan shrugged. “There really isn’t anything to tell. She propositioned me at a bar one night during my first week in L.A. and I turned her down. She got mad, stormed off, and the next time I saw her was in the rehearsal theater with you.”

  Beth squared her shoulders, looking rather smug.

  Aidan chuckled. “The only reason I was at that rehearsal was to see you. I thought you knew that. Just like the only reason I traveled to New York after the Spike Rollins premiere was to see you.”

  Beth’s eyes widened. “You mean our encounter at the Actors Studio wasn’t random?”

  “That’s what’s so cool about the whole thing. Although I was in New York to see you, running into you at the Actors Studio was random. My plan was to drop off a note at your hotel to let you know I was in town, but when I got there, I found out you’d checked in somewhere else. I went to the Actors Studio to kill time until Nate returned from work so I could call him and ask where you were staying, and there you were, being called up to the front of the class to act out a scene with Paul Newman.”

  “I can’t believe you traveled to New York just to see me.” An excited twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I assumed you were homesick and wanted to escape the industry pressure in Los Angeles.”

  Aidan grinned. “I was Beth-sick, not homesick.”

  Beth giggled and settled back in his arms, this time resting her head against his chest. Aidan brushed his hand to her hair and they sat in silence, the storm raging outside, the air charged and still.

  “Aidan, please tell me about your mother,” Beth said quietly.

  Aidan tensed, waiting for thunder to shake the house and lightning to strike through the roof, allowing the rain to pour down upon him and drown him in his own shock and sadness.

  The room remained silent with the anticipation of his response.

  “I mean, the good memories, not the bad ones. What was she like? What did she look like?”

  Aidan released the breath he was holding. “She had a radiant smile, green eyes like mine, only brighter, and auburn hair she styled similar to how Norma Lay wore hers in the 1930s.” He frowned as he fought to remember more than just the blood… the screams…

  “She was a big fan of Cole Porter and writers like Hemingway and Fitzgerald.” The corners of his lips turned up a little. “After reading The Sun Also Rises, she fell in love with Paris and talked about visiting there one day. She even got my father to buy her a French/English dictionary.”

  “P
aris. How exciting!” Beth tossed a wistful look to the ceiling. “Gosh, I’d love to visit Europe—maybe even film a movie there someday.”

  A solemn vow took root in Aidan’s heart as he gazed at her, the woman who was the rising sun lighting his own search for integrity in an otherwise dark, immoral world. He would take her to Europe, to the moon, to the stars. Anywhere she desired.

  “And your mother was a talented pianist, correct?”

  Aidan nodded. “She taught herself, if you can believe it. She was so good. She deserved to play before large audiences in prestigious concert halls, not only for me in our living room.”

  “How old were you when she started teaching you?”

  “Five. Every night after dinner, we’d sit together and play until it was time for me to go to bed.” Aidan looked to Beth in earnest. “When I told you during your Venus Rising rehearsal break that I couldn’t play for you because I didn’t have sheet music, it was an excuse. I’m sorry.”

  Beth’s eyes softened with her smile. “Aidan, it’s fine. I understand.”

  “No, it’s not fine. I shouldn’t have lied to you. It’s just that when I play piano I have to be in a certain frame of mind, you know? Sometimes I can play for hours, while other times…” He frowned. “Anyway, one day soon, I promise I’ll play for you. I actually have a particular piece I want you to hear.”

  “I’d like that very much.” Beth brushed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you for sharing those memories of your mother with me.”

  Aidan looked to their intertwined hands resting on his lap. “They never caught him, you know.”

  Beth regarded him inquisitively. “Caught who?”

  “The man who murdered her.”

  Aidan’s thoughts roamed to the day following the attack when his mother lay in the hospital bed and the police stopped by to get a statement from him. He didn’t want to tell Beth that she didn’t die right away—that it took three days for her to succumb to her injuries. Some things were better left unsaid.

  “I wasn’t much help when the police questioned me. My memories of the attack have actually become clearer over the years, mostly on account of my nightmares.” He shook his head. “I gave the cops the best description I could at the time, but because her attacker was a drifter, there was never a great chance of them finding him.”

  Aidan stared at the jagged shadows projected on the far wall. “I always wondered how many people he murdered before her, after her, or if she was his only victim. If there are other people out there like me, harboring the same pain and guilt I feel…”

  His musings yielded to contemplative silence.

  Aidan knew Beth understood the complexity of his feelings regarding his mother’s death, and he appreciated that she didn’t offer him reassurance or pity at this time. He’d been denied a voice by his father for years—an emotionally battered, lost boy whose self-concept had plummeted as a result of being ignored. Tonight, he received what he’d always wanted. Finally, someone was listening.

  With the eventual passing of the storm, the house grew dark and cool. Discussions on lighter topics waned, and Beth stifled several yawns. After some gentle coaxing from Aidan and a promise that he would wake her up later to drive her home, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

  As Beth slept in Aidan’s arms, he watched her quietly. The depth of feeling she drew from him continually surprised him, and he knew without a doubt that he loved her. He’d loved her ever since he first saw her on the Checkmate set. He just didn’t know how to tell her that she’d been what was missing in his life all these years. That cuddled up under the blanket with her, he felt whole.

  On the morning of Aidan’s race, Beth, Olivia, Connie, Matthew, and Nathan drove to Santa Barbara in Matthew’s Bentley. The women checked into one suite at the Fisco Gardens Hotel and the men checked into another, all on the same floor as Aidan. Upon their return from the race tonight, they would couple off discreetly.

  Aidan left Los Angeles early yesterday morning to sign in, have an inspection completed on his car, and prepare for the race. He also wanted to speak with some of the other drivers to get a feel for the competition. His mechanic, Ralph, drove up with him, following him in a station wagon.

  Aidan had telephoned Beth last night and explained the modifications he made to his Porsche, such as the addition of a driver’s side seatbelt, rebuilding of the carburetor, and changes to the body like removing the windshield to reduce drag. He also had the number twenty-four painted in black on the doors and rear engine deck lid.

  Beth wasn’t familiar with many of the technical terms he used or the reasons behind many of the modifications, but the enthusiasm in his voice was enough to keep her interest throughout the conversation. She had to admit that the image of him working on his Porsche in a garage, shirtless and covered in grease, was very appealing.

  Over the last two weeks, Aidan spent his days practicing at a local track to make up for the time he lost during his stay in Connecticut, while Beth put in long hours at the studio, filming two other dance routines for Venus Rising. As predicted by her friends, her contract had been extended to the full seven years and was even amended to include a generous raise negotiated by Mr. Stern on her behalf, according to her position and length of service at the studio.

  The contract renewal made it easier for her to feel excited about moving into the new house with Olivia. With Venus Rising wrapping soon, Mr. Mertz was sifting through available scripts that suited her image in search of her next motion picture assignment. He would inform her of his selection in January. Until then, she could enjoy the remaining weeks of 1953 knowing her career was secure.

  The First Annual Santa Barbara Road Races were held at the city’s municipal airport with the runways and aircraft service roads serving as the course. Aidan entered the 1500 cc Production D Class event, which meant he had a sports car with normal highway trim, engine, and headlights. He would compete with thirty-nine other drivers in one of the last races of the afternoon on a track that was two-point-two miles long with nine turns. The entire race would last thirty-five laps.

  The first things Beth noticed upon her arrival at the airport with her friends were the potent sounds and smells: octane fuel, burnt rubber, low rumbling engines, dust clouds kicked up by spinning car wheels.

  The grounds were packed with a boisterous standing crowd of racing and sports car enthusiasts, reporters, friends, and families. They lined the course under a blazing sun that loomed high in a clear desert sky. Nathan said when word got out that Aidan was racing today, the press descended on the area in droves, although they wrote off his participation as a mere publicity stunt to coincide with his rebel image.

  Last night on the telephone, Aidan shared with Beth that his goals were not merely to place in the top three today, but to win, and to prove he was not just some silly Hollywood performer who decided on a whim to enter a race for kicks. Beth was surprised. Normally, he didn’t care what others thought about him. This time, he sounded frustrated.

  Aidan had practiced long and hard and didn’t desire special treatment or to be singled out because he was a famous actor. As far as he was concerned, he was just another dedicated competitor. He desired respect as a driver and was determined to give the race his all using everything he’d learned over the last few months.

  Born in rural Fairfield, Indiana, Aidan’s seeds of talent in both acting and racing grew from ordinary soil. He insisted to Beth that he’d felt comfortable around cars and motorbikes since he was a child and she had nothing to worry about today.

  Although he seemed like a very competent driver and would wear the required protective gear, she was still concerned for his safety. While waiting for his race to start, she’d overheard chatter about cars in earlier races blowing pistons, tires, and even crashing. Her most unsettling thoughts accompanied the news that drivers doused their racing suits in starch to reduce heat and the risk of catching fire should an accident occur.

  The notion of Aidan in such
a perilous situation made her stomach churn. Bales of hay sat along the course to protect a car should it swerve off the road, and ambulances remained on standby. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt, but the threat of danger was never far from Beth’s mind.

  A racing official met the group and brought them to the designated VIP section. It was an open area cordoned off by rope, with a concession stand that supplied free water and exorbitantly priced alcoholic beverages.

  Occupants included ticketholders who had spent more than the general admission fee to watch the races in as much comfort as possible, industry notables, celebrities, employees of the sponsoring companies, and race organizers.

  Conveniently, the VIP area was located next to an airplane hangar that served as the press tent, where reporters and photographers retired between races to relax or take advantage of their close proximity to their prominent neighbors and seek out interviews.

  Beth took in her surroundings from under the wide brim of her hat. Her vantage point from the front of the VIP section gave her a clear view of many drivers and cars, and a good chunk of the course as well. She hadn’t seen Aidan since her arrival in Santa Barbara, but he’d warned her they probably wouldn’t meet up until after the race, given the preparations he had to undertake beforehand.

  “What time is Aidan’s race supposed to start?” Connie fanned her frowning face with Matthew’s racing program. “No wonder some race events prohibit women in attendance. Only men would get excited about a bunch of cars driving around in circles. I’m bored, this heat is unbearable, and if I have to dodge one more autograph request, reporter, or photographer, I’m going to scream.”

  “Come on, honey, aren’t you the least bit excited?” Matthew motioned to a race car that blew by them on the way to the pit road. “I mean, it doesn’t get any closer than this. We’ve got the best spot in the place.”