CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Next morning I woke to a gray, drizzly day, throbbing toes and a knock on my door. Mom bustled in full of questions about my foot. Oddly enough, she wasn’t at all surprised by Sky’s appearance the previous evening. Clearly, she, Dad, and Helena had been plotting together for some time.

I needed mom’s assistance to hobble to the bathroom for a refreshing soak in the tub. I returned to the bed, freshly scrubbed and clothed, when Sky knocked and entered with a tray overflowing with food. “Kate’s in a particularly good mood this morning, which means she’s cooking up a storm down there.”

I realized how hungry I was as he presented eggs, juice, and fresh waffles with fruit and syrup. “Wow.” I sampled the steaming mound. “I like it when Kate’s in a good mood.”

Sky remained quiet.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’ve been juggling calls this morning. I’m… not going to be able to stay after all.”

“ I see.” My appetite fled. “How long do you have?”

“A couple of hours… until the helicopter arrives.”

“I thought only world leaders had helicopter service.”

“Or musicians with too many people set to lose money if they skip a concert,” he commented ruefully.

“I’ll kiss you now if you say this is another joke.”

Sky looked up with a bit of the gleam returning to his eyes. “In that case, I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to hear.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Alright.” He took my unfinished food and set it aside. “I am completely at your beck and call.” He reached for the napkin to dab at my mouth. “I will be here while your foot heals and we will have weeks of uninterrupted time to explore and ride horses and kiss and dance until you are absolutely sick of my company and beg me to leave for an extended tour.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “Perfect.” Then I whispered in his ear, “This is a snow day so no school. It’s Christmas morning and your sixth birthday… ”

“Not my birthday… bad history there.”

“Fine, just Christmas. Gifts are under the tree and your new bike is out on the drive.”

“Can it have a bell and horn?”

“Anything you want.”

“Then we’d better not waste time.” He lifted me into his arms. “Mustn’t keep that bike waiting.”

At the head of the stairs, Sky threatened to slide down the banister, but I replied, “Go ahead, you’ll break a bone or two and skip the helicopter.”

“That is rather tempting. If truth be told though, I’m not good with pain. I howled like a banshee whenever I had a bone set. I’m glad I won’t be here when the doctor comes for you later. I’d probably faint or do something else unmanly.”

We continued down the stairs talking idly of our fears. I professed my phobia of spiders and dentists while Sky admitted his revulsion at having to stick his hand into dishwater.

“I suppose I’ve seen Star Wars too many times when they’re stuck in the garbage and Luke is pulled under. I imagine something horrible lurks in the muck.”

We started to pass the library, but I begged him to take me inside. The rich, burnished-wood dimness seemed the perfect setting for time to stand still. The rain pattered against the stained-glass window as we entered the chapel-like stillness. Sky deposited me in the window seat cushions then sat to face me. For a moment we were silent, soaking in the peace.

“I think I could spend all day in here,” I commented. “Make that days.”

“I did.” Sky gazed around the lofty room. “Some of my best friends are between the covers of these books; Robinson Crusoe, Long John Silver, Gulliver, Frodo. Gram used to say if I wasn’t hanging from some precipice about to plunge to my death, I was reading about someone who was.” He smiled. “Gram. I owe that woman a lot. Her home was my haven when things were,” he hesitated, “less than pleasant.”

Sky seemed lost in the past. “Mum and Father tried for years to have more children after me. They used to talk of a baby girl. I know now all those happy then sad times were due to pregnancies and miscarriages. Eventually, Father pulled away and immersed himself in work. He did well, but was less and less of a presence in our home. Often, Mum, James and I would end up here. Mum insisted we needed fresh air and lots of room to do all the things boys should do, but I know it was to escape the loneliness of London.”

“Are you still in touch with your father?”

“I see him on occasion. He’s a bit… cold. As a child I tried so hard to get his attention, but he always seemed disappointed or rather annoyed. I remember the Christmas when Mum gave me a guitar. It just seemed to fit, like it was a piece of me that had been missing. When I played it was… calming… my own little world where things made sense. ‘Finally,’ I thought, ‘I’ll impress Father.’” Sky shook his head with a grim smile.

“When I told him I wanted to make a career of it he told me, flat out, I would never make it, that I should learn a proper trade and be responsible. He tried to interest me in the world of land acquisition and business. I actually learned a good deal from him, he’s an excellent businessman. But inevitably, at the end of the day I would find myself with a guitar in hand working out a melody into the wee hours of the morning.”

“So what does he think now?”

“I sometimes get the impression he’s waiting for me to fail. He almost completely disappeared when Mum died. Maybe I remind him too much of her. I don’t know… ” His words faltered.

“Were you close to your mother?”

“Very. We were good mates, you might say. She was truly beautiful, inside and out, especially when I was younger and she still smiled. I tried as a child to cheer her up, but it never worked for long. James was on his own by the time I was ten so Mum and I went everywhere together. Paris, Rome, Ireland, Italy, even China and India. We toured museums and historical sites. I learned much more traveling with her than I ever did in school—language, history, and such. I suppose she thought to at least make use of Father’s wealth since he was away earning it all the time.”

Sky paused and smiled. “Sorry to dredge up ancient history. I’ve never spoken of this to anyone but Gram and James.”

“Thank you. I want to hear everything you want to share.”

“Just promise to let me know if I bore you to tears.”

“Not possible.”

We spent the next hour or so talking of our childhoods and some of the things that happened since we met. I filled him in on my trips to third world countries and heard more of his work in Africa. As Sky absent-mindedly toyed with one of my curls he said, “Africa brought me to life. It was like… holding that first guitar… like I’d found a piece of me that had been missing.”

I rested my cheek against his hand, my heart ready to burst with gratitude for the joy in his eyes.

“I asked you this once,” he began, “but since you’re two years older and wiser, what do you expect from life in, say, five years?”

“Well, I love journalism and it can be exciting, but I want to do more than just tell people what’s going on in the world, what’s wrong, who’s starting wars.” My face flushed as I warmed to the topic. “It would drive me crazy to just talk about it. I’d rather, you know, be part of making things better, feeding people, helping kids have a decent home and education.” My shoulders slumped. “Dad calls it my ‘Messiah complex,’ like I need therapy for it. Maybe so. But when I have kids, I want them to be dreamers. I want them to believe, truly believe, if they love God with all their heart, they can dream big… even change the world.”

“Kids?” Sky asked with a blank look.

“Well, yeah. I imagine I might have children in five years.”

“Would these children have a father?”

I squirmed. “That’s usually how it works, but no one’s applied for the job.”

“Let me make something quite clear.” Sky folded his arms across his chest. “That position has been filled.”

“By who?” I thought to make him squirm as well, but it didn’t work.

“It’s ‘whom’ by the way and the name is Alistaire Blevins.”

“Huh?” I clapped a hand to my forehead. “Oh yeah. That’s why ‘Lester’ didn’t sound familiar. Your real name is Alistaire.”

Sky rolled his eyes, “I tell her I want to father her children and she’s distracted by the name.”

“You gotta admit, it’s confusing.”

“You don’t think I would actually let anyone call me that do you? Alistaire is the kid who has ‘Kick me’ signs stuck on his back and is called ‘Alice’ by bullies who steal his lunch money. James brilliantly begged Mum to shorten it to Lester, which is what she usually called me anyway, and that’s what went on my records. By the way, it’s fine with me if none of our children bear that name.”

That was one of the happiest moments of my life as I sat in that library with droplets of rain running down the stained glass, casting watercolor shadows across his face while his words washed over me in waves of joy.

He wanted to grow old with me, be the father of my children, share our lives together. If good feelings alone could heal a body, my toes would have mended instantly. It was the perfect drug. They still hurt, but I couldn’t have cared less.

I forced myself out of the happy daze since Sky obviously had more on his mind. “I have three more weeks of this tour, then we can talk further.”

“So I can assume I’ll see you again before another two years has passed?” I teased.

He leaned forward, focusing all that charisma directly into my eyes. “I can assure you much more will take place before another two years pass.”

I caught my breath with a sharp jolt of pain. “You’re making my toes curl. But you’re worth it.”

Sky laughed as he carefully took my feet onto his lap and addressed them. “My sincere apologies.”

The grandfather clock stationed at the entrance to the room sounded the hour and Sky sighed as he glanced at his watch. “Only fifteen minutes. I’ll take you to Gram and your parents, then I have to go.”

Sky stood and bent to scoop me up. I put my arms around his neck for the trip, but he paused. “Hmmm… It would be a shame to waste such an opportunity.” He turned to sit once again on the cushions of the window-seat. “Perhaps we should say our goodbyes here.”

I found myself lowered gently back to the cushions with Sky still holding me close. My eyes closed and I breathed in the sensation of being surrounded by him.

Sky propped a finger under my chin, coaxing my eyes open. “Esther Collins, you have completely captured my heart.”

I wanted to shout and scream and sing and dance at the same time. With a very un-dignified squeal I threw my arms around his neck and laughed.

“Although you should be warned, now that you’re discovering ‘Alistaire,’ warts and all, we’ve only scratched the surface.”

“So, any bodies stashed in closets or… habitual cruelty to animals I should know about?”

“Let me think,” he muttered. “That one will never be found. Great barbeque; no evidence there… ”

“You’re sick.”

“Quite. Good for you to know. I did throw rocks at a sickly dingo when I was eight, but I imagined he was a baby werewolf so I was doing a good deed.”

“Poor dingo… ”

“Never took drugs. Gram said if I ever did she would kill me and remove me from her will.”

“Good for her.”

The humor left his eyes. “My best school mate died of an overdose. That was more than enough to keep me straight.”

The clock ticked. Sky laced his fingers with mine but his eyes were far away. When he spoke again, the words poured out as if held back too long. “The world was robbed. Rich was an amazing songwriter… a true poet. I’ve tried to do him justice.”

I recalled the dedication to “Richard” on Sky’s first CD.

“Lost Mum one year later, same date, third of June, my birthday. It seemed someone was out to destroy me. I probably would have lost my mind as well without Gram, James, and music. She was my rock; James, my sanity; and music, my… chrysalis. I wrapped myself in it and hid for the better part of a year.

“I couldn’t believe anyone would want to hear this collection of dark ponderings and angry questions I threw at the sky. They really weren’t written with mass distribution in mind. In fact, one producer tried to rewrite some of the lyrics, make them more commercially appealing. I yanked the songs from his clutches and found another producer. That was the first of many times I was labeled ‘difficult.’” He grinned. “Also good for you to know.”

“So that’s supposed to be news?” I kissed his scarred hand.

“I’m so sorry for that night after the concert. I truly thought you’d be frightened away for good, but there you were, cut and bruised and tough as nails while I was the one running away.”

“But no more running, right?”

“I’ve finally come home. Why would I run?”

A familiar “whomp, whomp, whomp” broke into the edge of my hearing. For a moment, Sky didn’t react at all, just held me a bit tighter, resting his cheek against my hair.

“Fantastic,” he spoke finally. “This would be the time I have an eager, early pilot.” He kissed me one last time saying, “To be continued,” then carried me to Helena’s suite where she and Kate presided over tea with my parents as if the sound of rotors was a common occurrence.

Sky placed me on the couch facing the picture window with full view of the front lawn where the helicopter landed. He addressed my parents. “With your permission, I’ll be coming to Texas to visit you in approximately three weeks.”

Mom and Dad nodded as Sky crossed to his Gram. “Thank you, you meddling old woman. Scarlett O’Hara could’ve learned a lot from you.” He grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“And you,” Sky scooped me up from the couch into his arms once more, “are going to stay with me until the last possible moment.” He turned to address the others, “By your leave.” He bowed and carried me through the front door where we were hit by a rotor windstorm.

Sky placed me in the wicker porch swing and knelt before me. As he gazed at me, the wind and noise disappeared, unable to penetrate our joy-filled bubble. Sky placed both hands on my face and kissed me long and slow. Finally, he pulled back. “How I wish I could take you with me.”

“But I am with you.” I pulled up his pinky finger. “Wrapped around real tight, right here.”

Sky put his pinky to mine. “A matched set.”

With one last kiss, he braved the rotor-wind, running beneath the spinning blades to climb aboard. The helicopter lifted and the strengthening windstorm made my hair whip around my face, almost causing me to miss the last glimpse of Sky as he put his fingers to his lips and pressed them to the window.

THE END