Forever, Jack (37 page)

I was reading my future there.

I wanted to close my eyes and revel in the sensations that were racing through me, tightening in an ever increasing spiral, but I couldn’t look away.

The sensations, they became bigger than us. And suddenly the wave was crashing over me, pulling me under and spinning me, tumbling me head over feet, over and over. I gasped, trying to find air, and my eyes finally squeezed shut under the onslaught so I could only feel Jack go rigid beneath me. Feel him cling to me like he would never let me go.

I had no idea where we were going. Tonight or tomorrow, or any day for the rest of my life. Or how we would manage all of our hopes and dreams.

Mine.

His.

Ours
.

But we’d do it together.

Four years later …

My heel is bouncing up and down nervously. I sit in my office next to the glass sliding doors that lead out to the patio and the ocean beyond, at a beautiful old desk Keri Ann found. The desk was hauled out of a boarding school refurbishment in England and is eerily similar to desks I’d sat at once, etched with names, dates, holes and fountain ink. Deep grooves probably carved with the sharp point of a school compass in a boring math glass, and some, I was sure, the result of an ink pen nib that probably didn’t make it past that moment of its highest sacrifice. My favorite part of the desk were the initials carved with a date of 1961. An arrow pointed up to it with the words “my dad,” and then whoever the boy was had crudely carved his own initials below with the date 1983.

We were in England three years ago meeting my mother when she found it.

I glance back up through the glass to where she is sitting on a lounger, soaking up some vitamin D from the winter sun and wrapped in a cream cashmere sweater I bought her and lied about how much it cost.

Keri Ann flips through each page. She hasn’t looked up in three hours. At some point I know she’ll need to move, stretch, eat, pee, I don’t know. Her face has rippled from anguish to anger to tears, nervous lip-biting, and a small smile here and there. I wish I could exactly calculate which words she’s reading that cause each of these emotions, but I can only guess by how far through the script she is. At one point she threw it down and lay her head back staring up into the sky. Now she’s nearing the end.

I nearly went out earlier and asked her which part she was on, and if she was just bored and tired, or reacting to what she read. Managing to stop myself, I settled with pretending to work on something at the desk that had inspired me to finally finish what she was reading but stayed where I could see her.

Her hand moves up to her mouth and her eyes are watery. I lay down the pen I’m holding, since I’ll probably break it if I don’t, and wait. Abruptly, she flings the pages down, her eyes finding mine, and gets up from the lounger coming to stand at the door. I realize her cheeks are wet.

“He was such a monster,” she whispers. “But you made me pity him.” Her eyes are confused.

Nodding, I reach out a hand and she accepts it. I pull her gently inside so she stands between my knees.

Sliding her hands through my hair, a light scrape that sends a shiver racing over my skin, she pulls my head against her.

Breathing her scent in, I wait to see if she has anything more to say and feel her curve her head down to rest on mine.

“My heart hurts for that little boy. He must have been so scared that night, but he was so brave. I can’t believe he got away and ran. Then to be chased … by his father, by a person children are supposed to love and trust, and know that if he got caught …” her voice breaks. Yes, all the untold horrors that boy might have looked forward to, what he’d even woken up to that night … that he’d never see his mother again might have been the least concerning. Keri Ann’s chest heaves with emotion and anguish beneath my cheek, and I squeeze my arms tight and hold her.

“I
was
scared,” I say finally when she calms. “I was terrified, and I made it. I survived him.”

“And you made me cry for
him,
too. I almost didn’t want him to end his life, but I felt his relief. Oh, God. It’s brilliant. I hated it. It’s the darkest story I’ve ever read. And so much more painful because it’s you.” She reaches for a tissue from the box she placed on my desk.

I loosen my arms and tilt my head up to look at her beautiful face filled with such torment. A tight knot around my heart loosens slightly. I’ve been terrified to let her read the script I wrote, even letting Devon read it first.

Production on
The Missing Earl
begins in eleven weeks.

In England.

Devon says he’s never fast tracked something that quickly in his life.

“But are you sure about this? Playing the part of your own father? And telling the world who you are?”

It was Devon’s idea, and when he first suggested it, I balked. I was shocked and horrified, and truly didn’t think I had it in me. The more I thought about it though, I realized, it could only be me. And really it will be the hardest role I’ve ever played, that anyone could ever play. But I know I can do it. I will do it. Moreover, I know with a quiet certainty, I’ll do it brilliantly.

I nod.

“Why did you wait so long to let me read it?”

“I was nervous,” I say truthfully. I like Keri Ann thinking the world of me. I don’t want her not liking something I’ve written. The fact she thinks it is good, absolutely humbles me. Relief washes through my veins. The publicity will be big though. “And look, if you would rather I didn’t announce it’s about me, I won’t. It’s enough for me that it’s out there. It will only add extra publicity to our lives.”

“Publicity that will help an incredible movie become even more important and mind-blowing? Of course you need to own it. You need to tell people it’s your story.” She smiles. “I can handle a bit more publicity. And since it will be on you rather than me, perhaps it will give me a break from “
ring watch
” and “
baby bump watch
.”

I try not to react to her observation of ring watch and baby bump watch. I feel like I’ve been doing the same as the press for three years … watching and waiting until she’s ready.
I’ll
be on “gay watch” soon.

“But we’ll be in England,” I remind her. “The paparazzi are worse there, it seems. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she responds to my concern. “Your mom and I will be fine. Besides, I want to go and visit the coast again. There’s so much sea glass there. I get really inspired when we’re in England.”

Every time we go there, Keri Ann insists we stay with my mother and Jeff rather than one of the fancy hotels I push for. I always concede, knowing it makes Mum happy, too.

Making muted love to Keri Ann in the guest bedroom, trying not to be too loud, always drives me nuts and makes Keri Ann giggle. I smile thinking about it and lift her sweater revealing her soft belly. Kissing it reverently, smoothing my lips over the silky skin, I inhale the soft fruity scent of her.

She pulls back and runs her hand through my hair, tilting my face up again. “I’m so proud of you,” she says seriously.

Pulling her face toward me, I capture her lips with mine, feeling her soft sigh, and slip my tongue into her warm mouth. God, I love kissing her. “I’m proud of you, too,” I whisper against her lips a few moments later. And I am. She dealt with the fall out of being blown up into a tabloid scandal with the most poise and grace I’ve ever seen, and continues to earn nothing but respect and starry eyes from the public who now look at her as some kind of Cinderella instead of the sleazy gold digger Audrey had planned. She’s sweet and funny to the people who want to take her picture and gracious to the ones who deserve to get a fist in the face.

I don’t know how she does it.

I fall more in love with her every single day.

And she never wavered in her desire to get her degree. I proudly attended her graduation earlier this year. I ended up setting up a scholarship fund at SCAD for local artists. She was, of course, a beneficiary. She didn’t speak to me for two weeks when she found out it was my money.

I finally got through to her that it was an anonymous fund, and that the selection committee couldn’t have possibly known. She won it fair and square along with two other deserving students.

I really enjoyed exacting an appropriate apology from her, one that we both enjoyed. She didn’t need to know
I
had designed the selection criteria as specifically as they would allow.

The best part was that I started the fund with money we won suing Tom Price’s magazine for printing the pictures he had no rights to. I’d warned him, he did it anyway, and I’d taken great pleasure in putting him in his place.

Shannon Keith, the journalist who was at Keri Ann’s first big exhibition, has become a friend. Her story ended up going a long way toward neutralizing the public view of what Audrey planned, and after several local residents corroborated the timing and basically made Keri Ann look like Mary Poppins, it was almost over.

The final blow to Audrey’s plan, however, came six months later, when her assistant whom she’d always treated like yesterday’s garbage, quit and went straight to the tabloids. She exposed all of Audrey’s scheming. She described her rages, tantrums, and dirty secrets. One of which was that she’d overheard Audrey and my ex-agent strategizing about a fake pregnancy. It coincided with me being nominated for an award for the movie I’d shot in England, and it was catastrophic for Audrey’s career. She’s been in some small art house movies recently, and I hear she’ll be making an appearance on
Dancing with the Stars
next season. Maybe that will help.

“When’s everyone arriving?” I ask Keri Ann, suddenly thinking about the time. How much longer do I have her alone, to myself?

“A few hours. The boat is due at 6pm. Katie’s going out to meet it. I think we’ve done about all we can for the ceremony. Now we should just relax and enjoy everyone being together for the weekend.” Keri Ann sighs with contentment. She loves having everyone together, and
I
love seeing her so happy.

I’m amazed that I feel so at home in a place with which the only link I have is her. “I’m glad I convinced you to let me build a place here where no one can bother us unless we invite them. But I’m thinking we may have to get permission for a helipad, just in case. Then we can come and go more easily.”

“A helipad? Are you nuts? That means a helicopter. I’m not getting into a helicopter!” She shuddered. “You got me on airplanes, let’s be happy with that, okay?”

I chuckle. I’d had to get her drunk on champagne when we got on our first plane together the night of her art event. It had never occurred to me she’d never flown before. By the time we landed in Tahoe for a few days, she was a mess.

“But yes,” she interrupts my memory. “I’m glad you built this place, too. I know Joey would be fine with us staying at the Butler house anytime we wanted, but it’s nice here, and so many memories.” She winks.

“We,” I corrected.

“We what?”

“You said
I
built this place.
We
built this place
.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me to bed for a quickie before everyone arrives?” I ask hopefully and cock my eyebrow in a way I know she loves.

“A helipad,” she says again, incredulously, shaking her head and not taking my bait.

“What’s the big deal? Another resident here has one on the other side of the island.”

“Then I guess you should make friends and use his,” she suggests. “Anyway, if we have a helipad, someone uninvited may be tempted to land on it.”

She has a point.

“Do you think anyone knows there’s a wedding happening here?” she asks, the thought of uninvited guests obviously sending her mind down a certain path.

“Nope,” I assure her.

“Hmm,” she muses, “I wonder if we should have ours here, too.”

I stiffen. My heartbeat trips, and I realize I may have stopped breathing. “What are you saying?” I manage, hoping I seem curious and not desperately hopeful. It’s useless, I realize, as the hope surges through me and makes me light headed.

She gives me a wide smile, and my heart seizes. “Just getting everything ready for the wedding this weekend made me realize how much I want it to be us, and once I started thinking that, I literally couldn’t stop.” She laughs at my surprised expression.

I’ve never pushed her. I know how much she needed to be her own person, have her own identity. And it’s been tough for her to achieve it and tough for me to sit on my hands and not help her. I’m so damn proud of her.

I’ve been ready to be a father, too, since the idea was unwelcomingly thrust upon me by Audrey years ago. The idea that I could create life and a family with this gorgeous, sweet, and incredible girl, grabs hold of my heart and mind every time we make love. Although, we’ve been scrupulously careful. But I
want
to create a small Keri Ann. A small person, whether a boy or a girl, with all of Keri Ann’s grace and beauty, strength and unflinching loyalty. And I want to love that creature and keep it safe from monsters and create a family like I’ve only ever dreamed could really exist.