A Lonely Sky

by Linda Schmalz

  “Hello,” Julia said, cautiously. Could she trust that half-hearted smile on that beautiful face?

  Deirdre’s eyes fell to Julia’s wrinkled pantsuit. “Did you fly in from the States or were you in England when you heard the news?”

  Julia ignored the barb, which hinted that she actually might always appear this undone. She knew Deirdre played gatekeeper to Sam, so she kept manners in check. “Spencer Budacker called me at my home in Illinois. How is Sam?”

  Deirdre spoke flatly. “He’s finally stable, but not well. They’re running tests.”

  “I’d like to see him.” Julia’s demand flew from her lips, surprising them both, but she hadn’t come all this way just to chat about him in the waiting area.

  Deirdre ignored her request. “I never knew you and Sam remained friends all these years. You certainly have grown up since the last time I saw you. How old are you now?”

  “Thirty-four.” Julia shifted her weight. What did her age have to do with anything?

  “I wish I was in my thirties again, with the knowledge I have now, of course. Life may have turned out differently for all of us.”

  Julia’s hands clenched. She had no idea what Deirdre’s cryptic words meant nor did she have the mental energy to figure it out.

  “Look, I’ve come a very long way. I’d like to see Sam, now.”

  She waited for another cutting remark, but none came. Instead, Deirdre’s stare fell to the floor. “I really thought you were out of the picture. But seeing you again, this cute little thirty-something you, clears up some questions.”

  Julia bristled. Was Deirdre fishing for some confession? She had none to offer. She stood proud and looked Deirdre square in the eye. “Sam and I are barely friends.”

  “Then why are you here?” She smiled coyly, but Julia sensed the sadness in her eyes told another tale.

  “Sam asked me to come. At least that is what Spencer said.”

  “Yes, I suspect as much. You see, Julia, you might think you’re barely a friend to Sam, but he always regarded you as so much more.” She shook her head and talked as if only to herself. “But that’s all right. I know you don’t understand how your presence brings everything into focus for me.”

  Julia’s impatience rose as she listened. “Deirdre, we can chat later if you like, but I’m tired. Will you bring me to his room or not?”

  Deirdre motioned for Julia to join her. “Come. I’ll take you to him.”

  Julia quickly grabbed her purse and followed Deirdre into an elevator. Neither woman spoke.

  As the elevator doors opened, Deirdre led Julia past the nurse’s station and halfway down another corridor. A few nurses greeted “Mrs. Lyons” and a pang of jealousy swept through Julia, knowing they did not refer to her. Deirdre nodded stiffly at the women as if she were queen of the ward.

  “This is it.” Deirdre halted next to a closed door. “You can go in. I’ll join you, later.”

  “Thank you.” She hated thanking Deirdre for anything, but she knew Deirdre had the power to keep her from Sam.

  “Don’t stay long.” Deirdre’s eyes fixed on Julia’s and her voice faltered. “He tires so easily.” She turned away and headed down the hall.

  Julia took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Sam’s room was silent except for the delicate sound of a machine monitoring his respirations and heart rate. He was asleep, but Julia smiled through her disappointment. She walked to his bedside and watched him. At only forty-six, he appeared much older, but Julia knew illness had that affect. His hair had thinned, but beautiful strands of silver ran through it. His skin was pale, and his face, thin and drawn. A small, clear tube rested under his nose to help him breath.

  Julia remembered back to the night they first met, sixteen years ago in Germany. He’d been so handsome, so kind, so much of a gentleman. Little did she know back then, that she’d be here in this hospital, listening to his labored breathing. She resisted the urge to stroke his cheek, afraid to wake him. He was still her beautiful Sam.

  Tears threatened as memories of their time together in London flooded her mind. They were so young and happy. How did everything go so wrong?

  She backed away from the bed and sat in a chair on the opposite wall and watched him. If Sam died, he’d never know his daughter. If he died, she would not have even a glimmer of hope that one day they might be together again. It was that one hope, that one dream of some impossible future together that made life bearable some days. Perhaps her dreams were selfish and wrong, but what did they hurt? She needed the fantasy, for she knew the reality would never be hers.

  Julia put her head in her hands so if Sam woke, he wouldn’t see her crying. It hurt to see Sam like this. It hurt to see him, period.

  She didn’t realize the door had opened and someone approached until a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

  “Julia?” The accent was British, the voice familiar.

  She looked up to find a very tall, handsome man with light reddish-blonde hair and startling blue eyes standing before her. She quickly wiped her tears, and accepted the handkerchief he offered.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “Do I know you?”

  “I’m Spencer,” he whispered. “Spencer Budacker. I telephoned you. We met years ago at a party when you were in London with Sam.”

  Julia studied the man’s face. Recognition dawned. She had seen him somewhere else over the years. “And aren’t you that English tennis player, as well?”

  He grinned and blushed. “Well, yes, but I’m retired now.” He glanced at Sam. “He’ll be happy you’re here.”

  “He will?” She shook her head at her need for reassurance. “I had to come.”

  “I know. He talked about you quite often through the years.”

  Julia fell quiet.

  Spencer knelt and took her hands. “Julia. You and I hardly know each other. I’ve been Sam’s closest friend through thick and thin. You must believe me that he’s a good person. Despite his physical condition, there’s never been a stronger, loyal or more…understanding man.”

  “I want to believe that. I did, once.”

  “Whatever he’s done over the years, if it wasn’t for a good reason, he didn’t do it. You have to believe that.”

  Julia didn’t know what to say to this man who so strongly defended Sam. Should she tell him that she loved Sam with more passion than Spencer defended him?

  “How is he?’ she finally said. “Will he recover from the heart attack? You didn’t tell me much on the phone.”

  Spencer stared at her, confused. “Deirdre didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” Her heart raced. “She and I barely spoke.”

  He squeezed Julia’s hands. “He didn’t have a heart attack, Julia. We lied to the press to keep his true condition under wraps. Sam wants it that way or they’ll hound him through this entire bloody ordeal.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “What’s wrong with him? Why did he collapse?”

  Spencer’s eyes misted as he looked away.

  “Stage four lung cancer, Julia. Sam’s terminal.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Spencer remained with Julia until Sam awoke. “I’ll leave you now,” he whispered. “Pull your chair up closer to his bed.”

  Julia pulled her chair over to Sam’s bedside as Spencer quietly left the room. She watched his face as he fought to pull out from the depths of sleep. His eyes flickered behind closed lids. She wanted to place her hand on his, to let him know that she was here, yet she hesitated.

  As Sam slowly opened his eyes, his head turned toward her. She remained silent as his gaze fixed to her own. For so long she imagined looking into his eyes again and being with him, but not like this. Never like this.

  He blinked, and spoke softly. “Julia.”

  “Yes, Sam, I’m here.”

  He smiled. “You came. Or are you an angel come to take me away?”

  Julia’s eyes filled
with tears as she now touched his hand. “I’m really here.”

  He studied her face. When he spoke, his voice came raspy and weak. “I knew you’d come. I’ve waited a long time.” Sam’s hand covered hers. “Did you have to slay the Deirdre Dragon to get to me?”

  “No. She was… accommodating.”

  “Ah. The old girl can be quite surprising at times.”

  Julia didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk about Deirdre.

  “Help me sit up a bit, won’t you, love?” Sam motioned with his head towards a remote control attached by a wire to the wall. “Just push the button on that thing, and raise me up.”

  Julia obliged, and Sam sat upright. She adjusted the pillows behind his head, feeling his eyes follow her as she moved about.

  “Thank you.” Sam smiled. “Now I can see your lovely face better and we can chat, yes?”

  Julia smiled. “I came the minute I heard. The press said you had a heart attack.”

  Sam’s face drew melancholy. “No, if you recall, my heart broke long ago.”

  “Sam-”

  “It’s in my lungs. The big C. I’m at the end now. Personally, I thought they should at least allow me a smoke if they were going to deliver news like that.” He chuckled. “But I guess not.” He looked to the window as his voice faded. “This ship is sinking.”

  Tears rolled down her face as Julia brought Sam’s hand to her cheek. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  He let go of her hand, and gently stroked her hair. “They give me six months ‘to live’. What is six months? A hundred and eighty days at best? And here I am stuck in this hospital. One can’t live in this place. It’s full of sick people.”

  Julia laughed through her sobs. “Stop it. Don’t joke.”

  “I want to see you smile, not cry, love.”

  She reached for a tissue from his bed tray. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I always thought we would have more time. I hoped I’d figure out how to be with you without hurting anyone.”

  “Well, the time is up for thinking. It’s time for action. And since I only have a hundred and eighty days, more or less, I need your help.”

  “Me?”

  “You’ve said in the past that you loved me and will always love me, yet you’ve chosen not to be with me, even after I offered to divorce Deirdre five years ago.”

  “I do love you,” Julia said. Time ran short for refraining from speaking the truth stored in her heart. “But I have a family-”

  “Prove you love me like you say you do. Be with me until my unfortunate demise.” He looked away.

  She squeezed his hand, and dropped her head. “I can’t stay in England six months.”

  “Yes, I know. But you can take me back with you.”

  Julia looked up, wondering if he’d gone mad. It angered her how flippant he could be about his situation. “Sure. Like I can just pack you up and off we go.”

  Sam started to speak, but was racked with coughing. Julia handed him a nearby water cup, which he sipped until the spasms subsided. He rested his head back on his pillow and spoke, his voice raw, his eyes pale, tired and pleading. “I’m not joking. I don’t want to die here. I’ve spent my entire adult life without you, longing for you, wanting to be near you. Now I have maybe six months. I want to spend them with you. I’ve been lying here for days with nothing to do but contemplate death. I hoped you’d come to me, so I worked up a plan if you did. Call that nursing home you worked at and get me a room. I have the money for it. I needn’t be a burden to your family. But I’ll be close to you.”

  Julia tried to hide her shock. She could easily obtain a room for Sam at Willowbrook Nursing Home, given her work record there over the years, but Sam simply didn’t understand her situation. Retaining a room would be simple, but there were bigger hurdles to jump.

  He put her in a precarious position. She wanted nothing more than to be with him, sick or not. Her heart would shatter to leave him here, knowing she’d never see him again, knowing she’d leave him to die. But there were other people she needed to consider, lives this would affect. Had Sam thought about them?

  “What about Deirdre, Sam? Do you think she’s simply going to let me whisk you away?”

  “This is my decision, not hers. I have a right to die where I want. And as for Deirdre, you needn’t worry about her. We haven’t lived as a married couple for years now.”

  Julia shook her head. None of this made sense. “What does that mean?”

  “I found out I was sick about six months after I saw you in New York. It wasn’t so serious then and the prognosis remained good. I knew Deirdre loved someone else and wanted a divorce, so we were going to go through with it.”

  “But you never did divorce her. Again! You never do!” Julia tried not to raise her voice. Would it even have mattered if Sam divorced Deirdre? Would she have left John?

  “No we didn’t divorce legally.” Sam fought for a few deep breaths. “You see, somehow the press found out about my condition, and it took a lot of money on my part to keep them silent. I didn’t want to go under as ‘Sam Lyons, Afflicted Movie Star’. I want to be known for my work, not my suffering. But there was no way to obtain a divorce quietly, and I had started chemotherapy. I lost a ton of weight and it was obvious something was wrong. Deirdre also felt that she would appear to be simply awful for divorcing me when I had cancer. So, we put the divorce on hold and decided to live separately.”

  “Oh please, Sam.” Julia felt her blood pressure rise. “Deirdre had no intention of divorcing you. She just wanted to hold on to you no matter what.”

  “No, actually, Julia, she did. She loves someone else.”

  “So you still stayed married knowing this?”

  “Well, I loved someone else too, you know.” Sam winked at her. “As I said, Deirdre and I stayed together to keep my illness out of the tabloids. I moved back into the McTeel Manor with Barnabas. Do you remember him?”

  Julia remembered Polly’s caretaker fondly, although she hadn’t thought of him in years. “He must be very old by now.”

  “Yes, he’s pushing ninety and in way better health than I am.” Sam smiled wanly. “Anyhow, the point here, Julia, is that I must leave with you.”

  She shook her head again. “It’s not as easy as all that, Sam. You forget I have a family.”

  “I could never forget your family,” Sam said, his voice sad.

  Julia looked away. She had purposely kept Sam from Elizabeth. “My husband will pitch a fit. He doesn’t even know we saw each other in New York. And he was less than thrilled about this trip to see you.”

  “Would he have to know I’m in the nursing home?”

  Julia looked at Sam as if he’d gone mad. “Sam, I can’t simply hide you in Willowbrook for six months and not tell my husband why I have a sudden interest in going there each day.”

  “Oh, hell, sure you can.” Sam chuckled.

  “No.” Julia amazed at her own strength. “If you come, I’ll need to explain everything to John.”

  “And then he’ll kill me before I have a chance to die,” Sam sighed, but allowed himself a smile.

  Julia felt torn at the decision ahead. “Sam, dear Sam. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

  “I want you, Julia, and of that, I am sure.” His smile faded. “I don’t want to die, but in that, I have no choice.” He squeezed her hand. “Help me. Give me what you’ve denied me all these years-” He took a labored breath. “- time with you.”

  Julia rose and sat on the bed. She rested her head lightly against his chest. “My sweet, Sam. What am I going to do?”

  His arms encircled her as he whispered. “Help me home, Julia.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Julia’s call to Willowbrook Nursing Home went smoothly. Her many years of faithful employment there won over the facility director, Philip Banks, and he was happy to offer a room for the well-renowned actor, Sam Lyons. He was equally surprised to learn that Julia was a longtime friend of the famous man. Mr. B
anks assured her that Sam’s occupancy would be kept confidential and the staff would uphold his anonymity. Sam could register under an alias so as not to arouse suspicion amongst the locals. Mr. Banks explained that keeping Sam’s presence incognito would also be necessary, for the small nursing home was ill-equipped to handle media onslaughts or hoards of fans. At the end of the call, Mr. Banks also assured Julia that, when the time arrived, Hospice care would be available. Julia thanked the director and hung up.

  Julia dreaded her next call. Alone in her London hotel room, she pondered the correct way to tell John of her decision, how to remain firm yet win his understanding. She stalled from phoning by fidgeting with her calling card and thinking about the hospital. She had left Sam before Deirdre returned. Even though Deirdre supposedly loved someone else, she stood by Sam through his illness these past five years. Would Deirdre understand his leaving England now? Julia wondered if Sam would have half as hard a time telling Deirdre his plan as she was telling John.

  She knew she had to quit stalling and just make the call. She pushed aside all other thoughts and dialed. Her fingers shook as she pushed each button. After an eternity, John’s cheerful voice greeted her. “Riley’s!”

  Julia smiled. Every time he answered the phone that way, he sounded like an Irish barkeep.

  “Hi John. It’s me.”

  “Hi babe.”

  Julia winced on hearing his favorite nickname for her.

  “How’s it going, Jules? Did your flight go well?”

  “Yes, yes, fine. How are the kids?”

  “They’re great. I’m holding down the fort. Elizabeth’s hoping you’ll be back in time to help her with a costume for the high school play.”

  “I know. I will be. I miss everyone, too.”

  There was a long pause. John didn’t ask about Sam and she didn’t know where to begin.

  “I should be home in a few days.”

  “He’s on the mend then?” John sounded as if he didn’t care one way or the other.