Josh was on the ball, on hyper alert. The second he realized what was happening, he pulled the reins taut with his right hand, and then with his left – which she was clinging to - held her above the powerful hooves. When the horse stopped breathlessly, snorting and wondering why its rider wouldn’t allow it to continue running, Jessie let go and dropped to the ground, where she landed safely on her feet.
Displeased, with the whole crew silently watching (some praying), Jessie stomped back to the starting position where the wrangler had already caught and returned her own mount. She dared a glance up at snowy-haired Jonathon, who was staring at her intently, his arms crossed, willing her to abide by his rules. Looking away, and then down at the partially frozen ground, Jessie heard Josh’s horse walking up behind her. She glanced up and met his angry deep brown eyes. Underneath the first AD’s voice hollering, “Back to firsts, everybody,” she saw Josh’s lips move, and his simple words chilled her.
“Jesus, Jessie,” he said, and then he gave his mount a little kick and stormed off.
Oh well, she thought. Ask me if I care what any man thinks right now. ‘Cept you, Dad, she answered herself, hot tears welling in her eyes. And Sandy. She brushed a fist across her eyes and straightened her shoulders, holding her head high. Be damned if she was going to let anybody see her cry.
The second try started out well, but this time she just about went under the hooves. Sonia and Hilda, huddled on flimsy campstools next to Sue-Lyn and Maggie, covered their eyes as the entire crew gasped. The stuntwoman stood proudly, watching. Considering it had taken herself years to learn to do this safely, she thought Jessie was doing really well. She had been apprised of Jonathon’s arrangement with Jessie, and so she steeled herself to show everyone how it was done. She was already dressed in a doubles outfit and had a curled wig applied earlier, so that on camera nobody in TV-land would be able to tell that it was she and not the famous Jessie Wheeler moving between two horses at breakneck speed.
Nobody expected what happened next. Jessie had landed on her ass this time, barely being missed by thundering hooves, and was just pulling herself up and running a silent inventory of where she could expect purple bruises to erupt, when Josh loosed his left foot from the stirrup, flung his right leg counterclockwise over his horse’s neck and, with the casual ease of an experienced rider, jumped to the ground. Stomping furiously over to Jessie, he grabbed his co-star’s right arm and roughly flung her around to face him. Everybody froze.
“Jesus, Jessie!” he yelled this time, loud enough so the entire accumulated cast and crew could hear. All ninety of them. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
He paused to take a breath, but he wasn’t calming down. He was beyond incensed at her. Jessie’s childish antics were freaking everybody out and risking the show’s future.
“I don’t give a sweet goddamn if you and Charlie are fighting, or whatever the hell is happening in your personal life. You are here on this show, on this set, in this moment, and you are being a stubborn bitch. Get your ass off this set and let the trained professional do the goddamned stunt!”
He stood there glaring at her, while nobody dared breathe around them, although under Hilda’s breath was heard a teensy, tiny, “Eeek - drama!”
After her initial infuriated defensive stance, Jessie didn’t have the heart to glare back at Josh anymore. She knew he was right, and he knew she damn well knew. She took a step backwards and thought, All right, you arrogant prick. We’re fucking even now. It was all she could do to stem the tears. She wiped the dust – ostensibly - out of her eyes, spun on her heel and stomped off towards the pathway that would take her up the hill towards base camp. The first AD approached her, hesitantly, to ask if she wanted the set van, but she threw a stiff arm out to him as if to say Talk to the hand. She marched up the hill as the tears finally flowed freely. Behind her she heard the AD say “All right, Stuntwoman in, let’s get this shot. Back to firsts, everybody.”
Josh stood for a moment catching his breath as he watched her go. He felt like shit, but he was angry with his co-star for trying to do something risky for which she wasn’t trained, and he was doubly angry with Jonathon for letting her attempt it when she was in such a frazzled emotional state. “Damn,” he said, and turned and took the reins offered to him by the stunt coordinator. “Damn.”
***
They were on the close-ups an hour later when Jessie returned to set, dressed in her own clothes and feeling like, if nothing else, she had exorcised some demons over Charlie’s heartless antics in Europe. She knew she could have left base camp without anybody besides Pier in the know, but then she would just be prolonging the inevitable. Regardless of when she chose to face everyone again, it would be embarrassing and painful, so she figured she might as well just suck it up and do it now. Besides, the alternative was going home to call Charlie and respond to the many texts and calls from Dee, which she was not yet prepared to do.
The first person she saw on set was Stephen, also dressed in his own street wear, leaning up against the grip truck at the back of the pack of assorted crew, but still with a good view of the action. He detected her presence out of the corner of his eye and raised an arm, under which Jessie tucked herself affectionately, wrapping her arms around him. He peeked down at her, a sprig of timothy grass sticking out of the corner of his mouth. A hint of a smile tickled his lips.
“Hey there, little girl,” he said. “Glad you survived.”
She gave him a little punch in the ribs. Grinned. “It was kind of a rush,” she admitted.
“Which part? The part where you almost got the shit kicked out of you by a mammoth four legged beast, or the part where your co-star kicked the shit out of you in front of everybody?” He was dry, that boy.
Immediately chagrined, Jessie’s face fell. Steve gave her a squeeze.
“Jess,” he said, quietly. It was time to address the tension between her and his good friend. “You know Josh was just running scared. He was freaking out.” He paused, and then tilted her face up so she would be forced to look into his eyes. “He really cares about you.”
The power of those words. He really cares about you. Jessie wondered just how deeply Josh cared about her – deep enough to, hmm, let’s see, ignore her for the last few weeks? Deep enough to ream her out in front of the gang, including the executive producer? Deep enough to…bring up Charlie’s despicable behavior, to her face? She laughed sardonically. But on a deeper level, buried in her belly, was a little butterfly flying around radiating color.
“Stevie,” she said. “He has the strangest way of showing it.”
“He’s all subtext,” Steve joked. But he meant it. He shifted his feet to gain a more comfortable stance. “Look,” he said. “Josh hit below the belt, that I get. He shouldn’t have mentioned Charlie. Especially today.”
Jessie eyed her feet again. She toed a line through the semi-frozen ground. Shrugged. Pulled away from him and shoved her hands in her pockets.
“But he was legitimately afraid for you. And maybe for what it would mean to his career if he was somehow connected with your - shall we say demise? You were angry. He knew that.”
Stephen took hold of her shoulders and stared at her directly. Gosh, she was pretty. And sad. That he could see clearly.
“Want to grab the others and go get a drink?” he asked patiently.
She wanted to, but she shook her head. Somehow the tears had caught up to her again. Maybe it was because she trusted this sympathetic guy, the person she knew to be the closest to the man with whom she was really infatuated, the one who just broke her heart by yelling at her in public. Whatever the reason, seeing Stephen’s kindhearted eyes looking into hers, searching, wondering, the floodgates were unleashed within Jessie, and suddenly she no longer had the energy to fight them. She turned away from him but he was quick to see what was happening, and he followed her around to the other side of the grip truck where he put another arm around her, turned her towards him, and pulled her close.
They stood that way for a good five minutes while she cried. He didn’t say anything, just held her there, close to him, where she could smell goat’s milk soap and feel a trusted heart beating, and where she felt safe.
After a while he put his palms on either side of her cheeks and smiled sadly at her pinched face and puffy red eyes. “Hurts pretty bad, eh?” he asked.
She could only nod and gasp for breath.
He pulled her near again, and said, “You’re coming for that drink.”
Inside he was thinking that if he could get his hands on Charlie he would tar and feather the boy’s genitals. He enjoyed that image, picturing Charlie’s balls melting and falling off. Steve himself was a loyal boyfriend to his girlfriend Sophie. He couldn’t imagine hurting her in the way Jessie had been hurt time and again.
From the field, Josh had seen Jessie approach Stephen. He had watched his friend speak to her, comfort her. He had observed how their relationship seemed to solidify over the past few weeks, and he was silently glad. But he couldn’t resist feeling a certain angst in his heart when he saw her start to cry like that. He could see them together now around the side of the grip truck, and he ached to be the one holding her. But he was still angry – with Jessie? Charlie? Jessie for putting up with Charlie? Josh was still watching her when she glanced up from Steve’s embrace towards the field and met Josh’s glance. Instantly, as if struck by a bullet, she pulled away from Stephen. Josh didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Nor could Jessie. They stayed that way, locked in each other’s eyes, until the AD called “First positions” for the gazillionth time, and Josh had to swing back up into the saddle.
Later, at home with a Baileys in hand, Jessie finally started returning calls. She’d told Stephen she would gladly join the others after wrap on Friday although, now that she was home, she doubted she actually would. She reached Charlie first.
“Jessie,” he said meekly when he picked up.
“Hey,” Jessie responded. She couldn’t think what else to say.
There was an extended pause on the line as both grasped for any words that could somehow dignify or perhaps even rectify the situation Charlie had created. There weren’t any.
Finally Charlie just went for the obvious. “I’m sorry, Jessie. From the bottom of my heart I am really, truly, desperately sorry.”
Geez, Jessie thought. If I didn’t know what a good actor he is, I might actually start to believe him. But she was far too experienced with Charlie himself to let herself get sidelined by his lying bullshit.
“Charlie,” she started, after another lengthy pause. “I think we need a little break.”
He jumped in quickly. “Jessie, don’t overreact. It was just some shit left over from the set. You know women are always flirting with me. And personally, I don’t really see the problem with a little fling now and then. It keeps things fresh.”
“Char-lie,” she said again slowly, as if she were speaking to a three year old. Then quickly, “I-think-we-need-a-break!” She said it fast because he had a way of wearing her down, of convincing her he was likely right and she was always wrong.
They paused.
Charlie spoke again. “Jessie, it’s difficult to stay faithful when women throw themselves at me on a regular basis. It’s just sex, it’s meaningless. It’s you I want for life. You know that!”
Life - sounds like a prison sentence, Jessie caught herself thinking. Her response to Charlie was short and sweet. “How am I supposed to marry a man who doesn’t believe in the sanctity of marriage?”
“Look. Maybe that’s why I am playing around a little now – because I am getting married, and it’s for life. I’m just letting off some steam before the big day. Jessie, look, I mean it, it’s hard to stay faithful when you’re living this lifestyle, and the days are long and you’re tired and you smoke a little weed or down a bottle of gin and then before you know it there is some woman (or two, Jessie thought, rather disgusted) pulling off her top and throwing her tits at you. You would have to be superhuman not to go there. Jeez, girl!”
As usual, he always had a point. And maybe that really was the way of it, for him, the black and white of it all. Maybe that was why Jessie always hung on – because she knew in her heart he was just like a child who saw things straight up, no fuss. That she did love him, even if it was more the kind of thing where she’d gotten used to being with him. And she knew Josh was some distant fantasy, albeit right now a very angry, incensed fantasy. She was just trying to fill some hole with Josh. While Charlie is out filling other holes, she thought, a wry sense of humor returning.
“Fine,” she said.
“Fine?” Charlie echoed, trying not to gloat. She was easy. She always came back, she never stayed mad for long. In fact, sometimes he wondered if Jessie really cared about his indiscretions at all, although this time she did sound somewhat defeated, which puzzled him.
“Fine,” she repeated, the word echoed by a big sigh. “I will call Dee and ask her and Janet to create their usual brand of PR magic and make this thing go off into deep dark space.”
Charlie was triumphant. I really will try to behave, he told himself. Jessie was one sweet girl, and really, truly, he adored her and wanted to keep her. Like a prized toy. Locked up in a corner for his enjoyment only.
After they hung up, Jessie felt less hopeless than before. At least she had Stephen to talk to now. She really liked him and Sophie, and silently wished they could double date with her and Charlie some day. After all, Charlie and Stephen’s brother Derek were good friends, and had been since the early days of their careers. The boys knew each other, so that was a start.
Jessie picked up her iPhone yet again and called Dee, wincing before she hit the last number. This would be painful, partially because Dee was such a doll, period. It hurt Jessie to know this whole sordid affair would be excruciating on the woman she loved like a mother.
She caught Dee in Toronto, about to board a flight for home. Dee was irate with Charlie, and worried sick about Jessie. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Jessie told her she and Charlie had worked things through. But then she quickly moved on to the action on set that day. Jon had called Charles, who in turn called her, and she was beyond grief for Jessie’s angst. It was good to hear the girl’s voice – she sounded quite calm, actually.
Once Jessie assured Dee that all was well, and that things were slowly returning to ‘a new normal’, Dee reluctantly let her go, with a promise she would drop out to set in the morning.
When they parted cell phone ways, Dee sat and thought long and hard. Part of her was aching for Jessie. Jonathon had reported that the girl had a good cry on set, and that a co-star had been there for her. She seemed to be developing some friends amongst the cast, at least. And part of Dee was aching for herself, because for seven long years she had hoped to get close to Jessie. But apart from her acting, Dee had never even seen Jessie cry. And oh, what it would mean to hold that girl in her arms and just hear her story. Dee doubted she ever would. But there was always hope.
In the meantime, she punched in a cell phone number in Europe. Be damned if she could hear female laughter in the background.
“Charlie Deacon.”
Silence.
Then, from the other end, a tentative, “Oh, hey there, Dee…”
There would be a reconciling. For the next ten minutes straight, Charlie Deacon was told just what he needed to do to make this one up to their entire team - all of whom would have to deal with the aftermath of his actions.
Nobody, but NOBODY could treat Jessie Wheeler so disrespectfully and not get reamed over volcanic glowing blood red coals spewed by Deirdre Keating.
***
Chapter Eight
A startling ring jarred Josh out of the murkiness of some amorphous restless dream.
It pissed him off.
It was Saturday, a week after the New Year. Josh had a rare day off and was planning to spend a chunk of it hunkered cozily under the covers in bed. But at 7:32 the landli
ne’s harsh ring woke him from a rather agitated doze filled with odd dreams of running horses refusing to be reined in. Moaning, he burrowed further under the covers and yanked the duvet up over his ears. He was exhausted, still upset by what he’d said to Jessie a few weeks prior to the Christmas break, even though Stephen assured him she was fine with it, that she understood her part in his outrage.
The caller was insistent. A sudden thought incited immediate panic – what if something was wrong? Instantly awake, Josh threw back the covers and grabbed the black receiver from its cozy home on his bedside table.
“Good mornin’, big bro. What are the chances you could give me a lift to Seattle today?” a perky voice begged.
It was Josh’s younger sister Kayla, calling breathlessly from the house she shared with friends in the comfortable, tree-lined Dunbar neighborhood of Vancouver. Despite the phone line between them, Josh could almost see her wide grin.
She stilled his sleepy groan with, “I’ll buy the coffee!”
Turned out Kayla had a last minute dance audition. At first Josh thought, like hell. But then he pictured Jessie’s recent reticence and he heard Stephen’s voice telling him Jessie wasn’t breaking up with Charlie, and Josh thought, Why not? It might offer the respite he needed from this insane job he had taken on, and the emotional roller coaster of working with the famous - and somewhat dangerous - Jessie Wheeler.
Seattle was only three hours’ drive away, plus it usually took an hour or two to cross the border into the States. He said yes. Listening to his bubbly sister entertain him with stories of her exciting Vancouver nightlife might be a nice distraction.
A curious turn of events was born out of that consent.
Josh picked up his youthful, slim dirty-blonde-haired sister forty-five minutes later. He loved that she looked like him. With high cheekbones and usually a similar hair color (she liked highlights) Kayla was Josh’s primary reminder that he was not alone in this world. With the pleasant addition of two warm chocolate croissants and a half dozen fresh apple cinnamon muffins from Rebel on a Mountain Coffee, as well as a drip coffee for Josh and a mocha for Kayla, he pointed his pick-up towards the States. Kayla loved to chat. She had a lot to say to Josh in his sobrietal state – it was still a thrill for her to see the light of life and intelligence in his eyes instead of dim gray anger and humiliation. No doubt he was happier these days working on Drifters and staying sober.
A Song For Josh, Drifters Book One Page 13