A Lonely Sky

by Linda Schmalz

  Julia looked at John. She recalled the little boy with the big eyes and freckles who calmed her fears with a cookie. Now, here he sat, her grown-up hero, offering to save her.

  Again.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sam knew the minute he said, “I do”, that he didn’t.

  He didn’t love Deirdre, he didn’t want to be man and wife until death parted them, and he certainly did not to wish to live the rest of his life with her. What he did want was his rightful inheritance, and this marriage was the only way to get it.

  “Over here! Over here!” As Sam and Deirdre descended the church steps, throngs of reporters vied for the newly married couple’s attention. Sam squinted into the blinding sunlight, unable to distinguish the paparazzi from invited well-wishers.

  “You promised me this would be a quiet affair.” He spoke between clenched teeth and a fake smile.

  “Just keep smiling, darling.” Deirdre tightened her grip on his arm, her other hand clasping a huge bouquet of snow-white roses.

  Sam heard the clatter of paparazzi cameras. “You told me no press!” His mind reeled. The last thing he needed was the wedding in every tabloid and newspaper on earth. He hadn’t been able to reach Julia yet to explain his sudden nuptials. What would she think?

  “Just a few photographer friends of Mother’s, dear, that’s all.” Deirdre smiled graciously towards them. “She insisted.”

  “Let’s just get to the limousine and the reception, all right?” He led Deirdre quickly down the steps, and past curious on-lookers and guests. Once inside the car, he breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his tie. “Bloody thing is too damn tight.”

  Deirdre looked out the window and offered a well-practiced princess wave to the crowd. “You act as if it’s a noose, dear.”

  Sam took out a cigarette and lighter.

  Deirdre turned from her adoring fans. “Oh no, not in here. I will not reek of cigarette smoke on my wedding day.”

  Sam glared at her, but put the cigarette away.

  They rode in silence. As they pulled in front of the Hilton in Park Lane Hotel, Sam noticed a marked van in front of them and scowled. “A television crew? Deirdre!”

  “Not my fault, honestly, dear,” she said, with a coy smile. “Really, darling. Mother and the press have been waiting for years for me to wed. We can’t disappoint the public, now can we?”

  She attempted to stroke his cheek, but he pulled away. “Oh come now, Sammy. You can’t expect me to wed one of England’s most eligible bachelors and the press not fuss? Society has been ripe with speculation since I was born as to who I’d marry and share my fortune with.”

  “Well, I hope the first thing you plan to do with your fortune is to pay off Polly’s debts.”

  “Of course, darling. You’ve kept your promise to me, and I intend to keep mine to you.”

  “Just like you promised to keep this a small affair?” Sam readied to depart from the limousine and spotted an all too familiar celebrity persona. “Bloody hell. Don’t tell me that’s that American reporter, Patty Zac, from that entertainment show?”

  “I couldn’t help that, darling, I really couldn’t.” Deirdre placed one long, white-gloved hand on his arm. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “And besides, what harm could sharing our love with the world cause?”

  “You have no idea,” Sam said his thoughts back to Julia.

  Deirdre locked her arm into his as they exited the car amidst a flash of bulbs and rolling cameras. “Believe me, Sam. I do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Julia slammed the receiver down and cursed the phone. For the third day in a row, her calls to Polly’s estate would not connect. Kim had taken the initiative and contacted the phone company while Julia lay hospitalized. A helpful operator located the number of the McTeel estate, but the number had been disconnected. Kim also asked the operator for the telephone number for Deirdre Lamont. That number, the operator added politely, was unlisted.

  Julia sat on the hallway steps and fought back tears. She knew she must contact Sam and speak to him. She needed to know what happened and why he married. Had he used her? Had she simply been a foolish, love struck girl chasing after a handsome player? She wasn’t even sure she would mention the baby, but she couldn’t marry John without one last attempt to find Sam. Her heart said he loved her, but her head and his marriage spoke louder volumes.

  The doorbell rang and Julia noticed Kim peering in through the porch window. She tucked the list of phone numbers into her pocket and hurried to the door. Kim would leave for Southern Illinois University in less than a week so anytime they had together lately was precious.

  “Thank God, you’re here,” Julia said, as she opened the front door and hurried Kim in. “I’m going crazy here by myself.”

  “Did you make the calls?” Kim entered the house and plopped herself on the couch in the living room. “I’ve been dying to know what’s going on. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy these past few days, but I have to get ready to leave.”

  “I know,” Julia said, with a wistful sigh. She should be packing as well, either for college, or preferably, London. She joined Kim on the couch.

  “Your dad’s not here, I take it?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Kim smiled, her eyes full of curiosity. “Well?”

  “Mrs. McTeel’s line is disconnected, I think. And Deirdre’s is unlisted.”

  “I hope Sam calls you anyhow.”

  “Yeah.” Julia looked down at the floor. “My dad keeps asking me what I’m going to do. He can’t understand why I’m not jumping at the chance to marry John.”

  “I’m sorry I ever pushed you go to England, Jules.”

  “This so isn’t your fault!” Julia reached for Kim’s hand. “I didn’t have to go. And I didn’t have to sleep with Sam.” She pushed away surfacing thoughts of those few precious nights spent his arms. “But I wanted to. I wanted it all. I was stupid.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Kim said. “But what will you do if you don’t hear from Sam, even though I’m sure you will.”

  Julia smiled, grateful for her friend’s optimistic lie. “All I know for certain is that I want this baby, and I don’t want my father to hate me.”

  “You have to do what’s right for you, Julia.”

  “Well, there’s the problem, see? When I did what I felt was right for me, going to England, being with Sam, I ended up with more problems than if I never did those things. I don’t think I make right decisions. I can’t base my decisions anymore on what I want. I need to think of what my baby needs.”

  “Don’t tell me-,” Kim began, but Julia cut her off.

  “I’ve been thinking about doing the sensible thing this time. I can’t go away to college, that’s a given. If I marry John, he’ll work at the construction site, and I can take a course at the technical school here in the Nurse’s Assistant program. And when I’m not in school, I’ll work part-time at the nursing home until the baby comes.”

  “Then it’s all settled and that is that, all tied up in a nice neat package?” Kim seemed annoyed.

  “Yes, I guess so. Unless Sam calls, of course.”

  “So, let me get this straight. My friend who wanted to be an actress her entire life is going to throw away her dream and marry someone she doesn’t love.” She crossed her arms, leaning back against the cushions. “I don’t like it.”

  Julia sighed. “This is the best thing for my baby. I can’t tell my father the baby isn’t John’s. I have no money except the little saved for college and the trip refund, part of which I owe to Sam for the plane ticket. I have no choice.”

  “Have the baby, but don’t get married, that’s your choice. You don’t love John.”

  “I do-” She couldn’t believe she said that. “-in a way.” Julia forced herself to believe her lie. John wanted to help her. He loved her. Perhaps she would grow to feel for him what she felt with Sam.

  “No you don’t.” Kim persisted. “You’
re only getting married because you think your dad will hate you if you don’t. Can’t you tell your father that you don’t love John? What’s so hard about that? Just say ‘Oops, Dad. I slept with John, but I really don’t want to marry him, that sort of thing?”

  Julia remained silent. If her best friend couldn’t understand her choices, no one would, certainly not her father.

  “You’re marrying John because it’s the easy way out.”

  Julia’s eyes flashed with anger. “This isn’t easy!”

  Kim seemed undeterred by Julia’s snap. “It would be if you loved John, but you love Sam.”

  Julia played with a loose strand on the cushions. She spoke quietly, as if talking to herself. “I want to love John. He loves me.”

  “Maybe Sam still loves you. Are you just giving up on him?”

  Julia kept her eyes fixed on the sofa. She paused for a minute and then answered. “I don’t know. I’ll give him another day or two to call.”

  “And if he doesn’t? Are you really going through with this crazy plan to marry John?”

  Julia glanced out the window and began to cry. “I have to. I’m going to marry John and give my baby a good future and a stable home. I’ll be the happy little wife and no one except you, me and John will be ever the wiser!”

  “Julia.” Kim moved closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. There’s got to be another way.”

  “No, I can’t.” She pulled away. “I have to do what’s right.”

  “Marrying someone you don’t love isn’t right!”

  “But giving my baby a good home is. And John loves me. I’ll be making him and my father happy.”

  “Why are you settling to please them? Why not go for what you want?”

  Julia turned a tear-stained face towards her friend. “I did that, and this is where it got me. I think I need to deal with what I have, and not look for something else.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Sure, I wanted to be an actress, but that won’t be happening now. And why? Because I took a chance and it led me right back here.”

  “I feel bad for you.”

  Julia stared into the hallway at the silent phone. “Don’t. I know now that my place is here, with this baby, and being content with the people who love me.”

  Kim sighed. “So, if Sam doesn’t call, you’re definitely marrying John?”

  Julia paused for a moment, and then turned, her jaw set. She wiped away a final tear.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sam woke to the scent of tropical blossoms, the kiss of a light breeze caressing his body, and an ungodly pain pounding in his skull. Lifting his head from the comfort of the soft pillow beneath him, he cringed as bright sunlight drifted in through louvered windows. He rested back on the pillows and attempted to open his eyes, hoping the pain wouldn’t further render him helpless. A few moments later he successfully attempted this feat and found himself staring at a vaulted ceiling and a whirling fan.

  Where the devil am I? He sat up, slowly this time, the pain in his head easing a bit as his eyes adjusted to daylight. As he looked around, he realized he resided in a luxurious cottage, complete with king-sized, four-poster bed, dressing area, sunken Jacuzzi and veranda.

  Glancing down, he found himself shirtless, a pair of boxers the only thing keeping him from complete nudity. His mouth tasted foul, and his stomach felt queasy.

  Sam groaned, hungover as hell, and unable to remember much of how he got that way. He recalled his wedding, most of the reception and numerous strong whiskies. He certainly didn’t remember arriving at this cottage.

  He glanced at the other side of the bed. The pillow and sheets were rumpled, but vacant. He assumed he spent the night with Deirdre, but hoped he hadn’t.

  The door to the cottage opened and Deirdre strolled in, dressed in a light blue bikini top and floral, sarong type skirt. A wide brimmed straw hat shielded her hair from the sun’s rays and stylish flip-flops, sprinkled with sand, adorned her feet.

  “Finally up, love?” She smiled as she closed the door behind her and removed a pair of dark sunglasses. “I’ve been waiting.”

  Sam rubbed the sleep from one eye, and kept the other closed against the morning light. “I take it we’re not in Merry Old England anymore?”

  “Good lord, darling!” Deirdre walked to the dresser and reached for a bottle of sunscreen. “Don’t you remember the trip to Fiji?”

  “I’m in Fiji?” Sam’s eyes opened wide. “How the devil did we get here?”

  “Private jet, darling. I hired it out of London.” Deirdre walked to his side and sat next to him. She stroked his back, but he pulled away. “You really don’t remember much, do you?” She glanced at her side of the bed. “Not that there was very much to remember; you were deplorably drunk. The pilot helped you onto the plane and you passed out.”

  Sam rose, trying to comprehend it all. “Fiji?”

  “Well, actually it’s a tiny island just south of Fiji…extremely private, Sam. There’s only a handful of guests here.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “It’s our honeymoon, darling!” Deirdre smiled and applied sunscreen to one long, lean leg. “I paid for it myself as a wedding gift to you. I thought that you could use a little time away from all the pressure of the wedding and movie making -”

  “Bloody hell, Deirdre! I can’t take a vacation! I was in the middle of a shoot!”

  Deirdre waved his fears away as if they were nothing but a nasty, annoying bug. “Oh don’t worry, Sammy. I arranged a few days off for you with your director. Actually, we have an entire week to spend here. And it’s so lovely, Sam! So quiet. Very secluded. And best of all… no phones.” She smiled.

  Sam began to pace. The last thing he wanted was a week alone with Deirdre. He needed to return home and settle Polly’s finances. “I didn’t agree to a honeymoon.”

  Deirdre feigned shock. “But it’s a surprise dear. You need the rest. You’ve been looking so ragged since Polly died.”

  Sam looked around for his pants and his cigarettes, unsure as to which he needed more. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

  Deirdre sighed, but rose and walked to the wicker dresser. From a drawer she procured a pair of khaki shorts, a tan, lightweight cotton short-sleeved shirt and a pair of canvass, slip-on shoes. “Here. I took the liberty of packing for you since you were… under the weather.”

  Sam took the clothes from her. “These aren’t mine.”

  “I bought them for you, darling. Really, you can’t run around on an island in jeans and sweaters, now can you? Your wardrobe is boring, darling, and I intend to fix that.”

  Sam put the clothes on before he continued. “How long have I been here?”

  “A day and a half.”

  “Bloody hell! And I slept the entire time?”

  Deirdre glanced towards the unkempt bed. “Sadly, yes.”

  “And what have you been doing? Did you take care of Polly’s finances before we left?”

  Deirdre walked around to his side of the bed and sat. She pulled a pack of his cigarettes and a lighter from a drawer from the bedside table and handed them to him. “Well, there’s been a teensy, weensy snafu there.”

  Sam felt his heart quicken. “No. There can be no snafu. I had until yesterday to make the payments or-”

  “Or the estate went to auction. Yes, I know, dear.”

  Sam resisted the temptation to strangle her. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Did you pay the bills or not?”

  “I tried.” Deirdre spoke, calm and collected, which only irritated him further. “But we ran into a stipulation in Daddy’s will.”

  “Oh Jesus Bloody Christ.” Sam paced again. “What stipulation?”

  “Really darling. Please watch your language. I won’t have it.”

  “Just tell me what happened!” He stopped directly in front of her and stared her down.

  Deirdre seemed nonplussed by his ang
st. She sat up taller and looked him square in the eye. “The will said I don’t get the money from the business until I’ve been married five years.”

  Sam laughed aloud. “Bullshit.”

  “No really, darling.” Deirdre stood and walked to the bureau and opened her purse. “I have a copy of it right here if you’d like to see it.” She pulled out some folded papers. “I’m terribly sorry, Sam.”

  Sam grabbed the papers from her, not even bothering to look at them. Instead he ripped them up and threw the pieces at her. “This is bullshit, Deirdre! You are rich beyond words. You could have paid off that debt with your own money. You chose not to. Why?”

  “I wanted us to have a nice honeymoon, darling!” She held up her hands. “This cost a fortune and you do need the rest!”

  “I needed you to pay off the estates and clear Polly’s name! You could have done it! You have enough money, business inheritance or not.”

  Deirdre looked at the copy of the will scattered about her feet, her voice steady. “That’s not true, Sam. I’ve been living off Mother’s side of the inheritance all this time, and I must be frugal since it’s hers as well. Believe me, I was as surprised as you that we have to be married for five years to get the fortune from the business.”

  “And just why the bloody hell would your father put that stipulation in the will, Deirdre? Why?” Sam spoke between clenched teeth.

  Deirdre’s jaw set. “Perhaps he didn’t trust me with the money, Sam, or-” she laughed a bittersweet laugh. “-perhaps he didn’t believe that anyone would marry me for love alone.” She paused, not looking at him as she spoke. “This way, you see, if a man did marry me only for my money, perhaps he might actually grow to love me in five years time.” She walked to the bed and sat down. “Imagine that.”

  Sam held his hand to his aching forehead. “I didn’t marry you for your money.”

  She turned to him, her eyes softening, and hope resonating in her words. “Oh Sam.”