A Lonely Sky

by Linda Schmalz

  “Julia.” He spoke softly, not wishing to startle her.

  She slowly turned her head in his direction and opened her eyes.

  “Sam.” Her voice remained flat and void of emotion, yet her moist eyes betrayed a pain he never wished to find there.

  He spoke in a rush as if any moment she might disappear back into the abyss of the lonely years between them. “I’m up in the box seats. I saw you below. Did you see me? It looked as though you had.”

  She wiped the tear from her cheek. “Everyone was looking at you.”

  He offered a smile, hoping to stop her sadness. He tread lightly with words wondering if the tears were for him, because of him, or for some other reason completely unrelated. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  “Has it?” She turned toward him now, her sad eyes cold and dark.

  Sam swallowed, trying to find the right words. “For me, yes. I haven’t seen you in so very long.”

  “I see you all the time in the media. You’ve done quite well with your career. Lots of movies and awards, I hear.” Her voice remained as cold and flat as her expression. Where had his jubilant and vibrant Julia gone?

  “Yes.” Sam stared at the ground. Something in her voice made him embarrassed by his success.

  Julia sighed and looked away. “Well, congratulations on the career.” She pulled away from the wall and looked past him, as if to leave.

  Sam placed his hand on her arm. “Wait. Please.”

  She pulled away from his touch. “What?”

  “I’ll take but a minute of your time.” He glanced in the direction she so desired to escape. “Are you here with John?”

  The mention of her husband seemed to crumble the emotional fortress Julia hid behind. Anger edged her words. “How do you know who I married?”

  Sam’s eyes fell to the brilliant diamond adorning her left hand. The four-minute warning chimes sounded. Time fell short.

  “I’ve missed you.” The words tumbled from his heart.

  Her sarcastic laugh unnerved him as she shook her head. “Oh please, Sam. Let me by, I have to get back. Why are you even bothering me?”

  Sam blocked her path. “Why?” How could she not know? “What happened to us?”

  Her eyes grew large. “What happened to us? You married Deirdre.”

  “Yes. Yes, I did, but there were-” Sam paused, searching for the right words to explain his very wrong decision. “-important reasons I did that. None of them had anything to do with you.”

  Julia rolled her eyes. “Well! That explains it, then. Thank you. I’m glad my presence in your life and in your bed didn’t inhibit your marriage plans. If you’ll excuse me, I really do need to get to my seat.” She tried to push past him, but he gently blocked her way. She couldn’t leave like this. How many more years might it take to see her again?

  “Stop, Julia. Please. I’m not saying this right. You don’t understand.”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t.”

  Sam hurried to explain. “I know this sounds odd, but I never intended on staying married to Deirdre. I wanted to be with you!”

  “When? When I’m eighty?” Her voice became stronger. “See the problem here, Sam, is that you live in a different world than I do. In my world we have real people with real problems. And we certainly don’t fall in and out of love as the wind shifts.”

  Sam took a step back. “Is that what you think? That I loved you but a minute?” His voice was low and his eyes bore into hers. “I thought we understood each other.”

  “And I understood you wanted to be with me.” Tears welled in her eyes again.

  Sam’s jaw set. She awoke the pain he suppressed for years. “Well you certainly didn’t give me much time! I called to explain about my marriage being a ruse only to find out that you were getting married!”

  Julia’s face drained of color. Her voice faltered. “What? When did you call?”

  “Late that August. And yes, it was after I married Deirdre. I only married her to get access to my money to pay off Polly’s estates. I wanted you to know everything and your father told me you were getting married.”

  Julia looked away. “Yes, I married John.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But, like you, I had important reasons for doing so.”

  “Because I married?” Sam shook his head. “Julia, I can’t begin to tell you how much I didn’t want to do that, but I needed access to my money.”

  Julia glanced at the theater entrance doors. “I have to go.”

  “Will John come looking for you?”

  Julia shook her head. “No. He’s not here. I mean, he’s here in New York, but he came down with food poisoning or the stomach flu just as our plane landed. He insisted I come tonight though so as to not waste the ticket. We gave his to someone outside.”

  Sam took her gently by both shoulders. He turned her face upward to his and looked deep into her eyes. How he had longed all these years to do just this, gaze into these wide, beautiful eyes.

  “Julia. I need to see you again, but not here. We need to talk. I’m staying at the St. Moritz on South Central Park. Please say you’ll come see me tomorrow. We can’t leave things like this.”

  Julia’s eyes searched his but he found no answer there. He’d give anything to have her back, just to hold her for a minute more.

  “Sam, I can’t.”

  “Don’t say that. You must.”

  “It’s not right.”

  “It’s not right that we’ve been apart. Just come meet me and tell me about your life. I want to know all about you, what you’ve been doing. Do you act? Do you have children-”

  “Sam, I-”

  He put his finger to her lips. “I want nothing but to see you again. I’m here, alone, doing a talk show. I can’t go out in public without being mobbed by the paparazzi or hounded for autographs, so if you could just meet me at my suite tomorrow, I promise to be on my honor as a gentleman and a friend.” A friend. Had they ever been friends? Could he actually resign to the idea of only being her “friend”?

  Julia removed his hands from her shoulders. “I don’t know. I can’t promise you anything.”

  “I know.”

  It seemed like eons before she spoke again, her words decisive and slow. “I suppose I could get away for a little while tomorrow afternoon, maybe around one? It depends how John is.”

  Sam smiled. “I understand. I hope to see you. Just ask for me at the desk at the St. Moritz. I’ll leave them your name.”

  “I’m Julia Riley now.”

  “Fine.”

  Julia turned to leave but stopped. She paused for a moment and then spoke. “The first act was very good, don’t you think?”

  Sam returned her intense gaze. “That it was.”

  She smiled for the first time, as if lost in some distant memory. “The second act might be difficult though. We’ve both missed so much already.”

  Julia turned and went into the building.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Julia tossed and turned, her mind a whirlwind of emotions, her heart a jumble of conflict. As John snored beside her, she stared at the ceiling, anxious to see Sam tomorrow and hating herself for it. Hadn’t she worked through all this? Hadn’t she built a life without Sam? What was seeing him going to accomplish? After eleven years, what was so important that he had to see her?

  Julia replayed their encounter. Her casual glance into the upper level box set her heart reeling. She recognized Sam instantly, as did a group of audience members. Their calls to him commanded his attention and Julia could not help but watch. When he caught her stare, when his lips formed her name and his eyes grew wide with recognition, the air left her lungs and she felt dizzy. She turned away, and rushed from the theater, seeking breath and sanity.

  Standing against the cool of the building, her eyes closed, Julia convinced herself she had not seen Sam. She imagined him that was all. But why then did she feel feverish and why did her heart race? And why, a moment later, did his deep
voice speak from beside her? And why did she lack the willpower to stop from turning toward him.

  She could barely speak. She realized she had been crying and slowly wiped a tear from her cheek. She found him more handsome than ever. His hair, now gray at the temples, left him distinguished looking, not old. When he smiled, a few crinkles decorated the corners of his beautiful hazel eyes, eyes she remembered looking so deeply into as he promised her a lifetime of always looking into them. And as he spoke, she remembered how he whispered promises to her, remembered how he played with her hair, caressed her face, and touched her body.

  Julia sat up straight in the hotel bed, willing those intimate memories away. She reminded herself how much she hated Sam for leaving her.

  She lay back on her pillow. She thought of Elizabeth, their daughter. No, Elizabeth was John’s daughter now, not Sam’s. Just because Sam popped back into her life, didn’t mean he deserved to know about Elizabeth.

  Julia sighed. She could think of every reason in the world not to go to Sam tomorrow and yet her heart ached for one last visit. But what would it prove? They both had married other people. She had children. He had an exploding career that didn’t cater to a wife and kids. And who was she to think he even wanted her again?

  Julia pinched her arm hoping the pain would distract her mind from constantly wandering back to the fantasy of them being together. She knew it could never be. She’d never leave John. He didn’t deserve that.

  No. She would absolutely not visit Sam. No good could come of it. She would not call him. She’d let him stew in the misery of waiting for a call or visit that never came.

  Julia looked over at John who slumbered on without a care. She reached over and stroked his cheek. “I won’t go.”

  The next day dawned a brilliant October day with a warm sun offset by an occasional cool breeze. The trees boasted beautiful hues of reds, oranges and gold but Julia barely noticed them as her cab pulled up to the St. Moritz Hotel.

  The hotel lobby bustled with people moving in and out, and Julia waited anxiously for her turn to approach the desk clerk. Her resolve from the night before vanished with the rising dawn. John, still too weak to explore New York with her, insisted she sightsee or shop. And Julia had every intention of doing just that, until she found herself hailing a cab and asking the driver to take her to the St. Moritz.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Lyons,” she said, as she approached the concierge. “My name is Julia. He’s expecting me.”

  The elderly gentleman behind the mahogany desk sorted through paperwork and pulled a note from the stack. “Ah yes, Ms. Riley, is it?”

  “Mrs. Riley, yes.”

  The concierge wrote something on the paper and handed it back to her. “Our most revered guest in is this suite. The number is on the paper. Take the elevators up to his floor. From there, the operator will guide you to Mr. Lyon’s room.”

  Julia took the paper from his hand. “Thank you.”

  Following the instructions, Julia soon found herself outside the door to Sam’s suite.

  As she lifted her arm to knock, the door swung open. Sam stood before her, dressed in beige chinos, a white polo shirt and a nervous smile. From somewhere in his suite, a phone rang and rang.

  “Don’t you want to answer that?” She nodded in the direction of the ring, hoping Sam would turn to answer it. His distraction would allow her to run back to the elevator and leave. Seeing him reminded her of the many reasons she should not be there.

  Sam glanced over his shoulder but did not move. “No, that’s okay. I’m not taking any calls right now. I should have called the desk. I’ll take it off the hook.” He stood aside. “Please come in. I heard the elevator and hoped it was you. I’m relieved you didn’t change your mind.”

  “I did about a hundred times.” Julia walked hesitantly into the lavish room. She inhaled sharply; it smelled of luxury and money.

  “Fancy place, no?” Sam seemed almost embarrassed as he closed the door. He walked to a bar. “Drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Soda then?” He pulled out two different cans, one in each hand. “I have a variety.”

  Julia shook her head. “No, really. I can’t stay long.”

  “Oh.” Sam put the sodas away, coughed, and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”

  “No. You still smoke?”

  “I quit at least once a day.” Sam smiled and motioned to a dark, floral settee. “Would you like to sit?”

  She sat on the edge of the sofa, placing her purse on her lap. Sam sat across from her on a matching chair. After removing the receiver from the phone, he reached for a lighter on the coffee table and lit his cigarette. She watched him, unsure of what to say, unsure of what she was doing here.

  “You had no trouble getting away then?” Sam watched his cigarette smoke rise into the air.

  Julia looked away. “John can barely move yet. I told him I was going shopping.”

  “Ah.”

  She shifted in her seat. Sam cleared his throat as if to speak, but then sat there, smiling and smoking. She rose. “I should be shopping.”

  Sam’s smiled faded. He jumped up. “No, sorry. Please.” He stubbed out his cigarette and glanced around the room as if waiting for someone else to entertain them. His eyes returned to her. “I thought this would be easier. I thought I would know what to say.”

  Julia nodded. There were so many things she wanted to say as well, like how she missed him, how mad she was, how he hurt her, what it felt like to be left with a child and nowhere to turn; but words just wouldn’t come.

  Sam walked over and touched her arm. “I’ve I thought about you every day of my life, wondering how you were, what became of you.”

  Julia tried to ignore the flame that ignited inside her at his touch. Her voice betrayed nothing. “I went on with my life. What did you expect me to do?”

  His eyes searched hers for something she tried not to show. “We were supposed to be together, Julia.”

  Julia’s eyes widened as she took a step backwards and out of his reach. “We went over this yesterday. You married Deirdre.”

  Sam shook his head. “I swear, Julia. It was a farce.” He motioned toward the couch. “Please. Please sit down.”

  Julia slowly sat, secretly allowing him three minutes to speak his peace.

  Sam sat next to her, folding his hands in front of him and staring straight ahead. “I never meant to stay married to her. I don’t love her and I never have. Polly died and left the McTeel estate in debt. I was broke and couldn’t get a loan. I couldn’t let Polly’s name be ruined by the scandal. I couldn’t lose the home she loved so dearly. Deirdre promised me money on marriage. That money, as you might recall, was mine to begin with. So we struck a deal. I’d marry her and she’d give me the money. Only she didn’t know that I was going to have the marriage annulled and I didn’t know she was lying.”

  “But you didn’t have the marriage annulled.” Julia looked him square in the eye, her jaw set. “At least according to the articles I read. You see, that’s how I learn about you. I read about it in fan magazines. That’s how I knew you got married. I saw it on television the summer you promised to be with me.”

  “I left messages trying to call you and explain it all. I loved you, Julia. I never loved Deirdre.”

  Julia steeled herself from buying into his story. “Well, you appear quite content in the photographs I’ve seen. You have an amazing career. You’re a famous, talented actor with a beautiful socialite wife, living the charmed life in England. If that’s a life worth wallowing in self-pity about, it certainly bodes well for you.” She didn’t bother to curb her sarcasm, the pain and humiliation of eleven years rising inside her and threatening to boil over. She hadn’t realized the anger she buried. She thought she simply missed him, but being with him caused a wall of denial to crumble; behind it, she found a fortress of feelings ignored for too long.

  Sam remained calm, but his voice grew t
ired and hoarse. “Julia. I called to explain about the marriage and your father said you were getting married.” His hazel eyes bore into her, but she found no malice there, just searching and sadness. “You seem angry with me, but how much did you love me if you ran off and married John without even waiting to hear from me?”

  “I waited!” Julia’s throat tightened as she choked back hot tears that dared reveal her pain from the memories of that awful time.

  His eyes remained fixed on hers, as he reached for another cigarette. “You told me, in England, that you didn’t love John.”

  “This isn’t about what I did,” Julia said, unnerved by his verbal volley of blame. “This is about what you did, or rather what you didn’t do.”

  “And what was that? I tried to call and explain and I heard you would marry John.”

  “Sam.” She willed her voice to steady. “Let’s not do this. Let’s not rehash the past. What’s done is done.”

  “Is it? Then why do I still love you? Why did you come this afternoon? Could it be you might possibly still love me?” His eyes searched hers, but she had no answer.

  He loved her. How she had longed to hear those words. And he wanted to know if she still loved him. Another wall of her emotional fortress caved. In her mind she screamed of her love and ran into his arms, yet here, sitting next to him, she remained stoically silent. Nothing could come from speaking the truth.

  Julia shook her head. “I did love you, Sam.” She looked up at him. “I can’t give you more than that.”

  “Why not?” Sam turned to her, taking her hands in his. “Things were misunderstood between us. But we can make them right again. Tell me you still love me. Do you really love John?”

  At the mention of her husband, Julia removed her hands from Sam’s caress and reached for her purse. She pulled out her wallet. “I have children, Sam.”

  She opened the wallet and handed it to him. “That’s Tommy. He’s five going on trouble.”

  Sam smiled as he looked at the picture. “Cute little chap, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, and a handful at times, but certainly a mama’s boy when he needs to be.” She smiled at the picture. She took a deep breath and turned the plastic page over to the next photograph.