A Lonely Sky (4 page)

As Julia and Sam walked along cobblestone streets, a light mist illuminated in the soft glow of antiquated street lamps.

“So, are you ever going to tell me your name?” Sam asked.

“Julia. Julia Steele.”

“Pretty. Julia. Juliet.” Sam pulled his cigarette pack from his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”

“No.” She watched as he lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the damp, gray air.

The silence between their brief attempts at small talk unnerved Julia and only served to remind her that she walked late at night, in a foreign town, with a stranger.

“Thank goodness it stopped raining so darn hard,” she said, attempting to keep the conversation going. If Sam was busy talking, he couldn’t devise a plan to kill her. “It was miserable on our way over, and we ran all the way, which is why I didn’t really pay attention to the directions.”

“Ah.” He still wasn’t much for words.

“So. Do you live here? You sound British.”

“I live in London.” He stared straight ahead as if lost in some thought she could not reach.

“Oh, I have always wanted to visit England! I’m fascinated by the history, especially the Elizabethan period, and visiting London would be like a dream for me. You’re so lucky to live there!”

“Oh, it doesn’t seem all that intoxicating when you’ve lived there all your life as I have.”

Julia pressed on. “Why are you here, in Rothenburg? Are you doing a commercial or something?”

“No. I’m on holiday, so to speak. I find it utterly maddening to sit about my flat and wait for my agent to ring about the mini-series. It could be days before I hear.”

“I see. I guess it’s like when I’m waiting to find out if I got a part in a play, except in school, they post the results instead of calling.”

“Yes, only this sort of rejection feels bloody worse,” Sam said. “Because this is my career on the line.”

“Right.” Julia felt excited for him. “But how wonderful if you do get it!”

“Let’s not talk about it, shall we? Just rattles my nerves, I’m afraid.”

She glanced up at the tall man, afraid she angered him. But he smiled kindly at her.

She offered an apologetic smile. “You did say you came here so you wouldn’t think about it and all I do is go on about it.”

Sam laughed. “That’s all right. Not to worry, love. The more you talk, the less I can think, and that’s a good thing.”

“Okay.” Julia changed the subject. “So, why did you pick Rothenburg to visit? Do you have family here?”

Sam tossed his unfinished cigarette on the street and ground it with his shoe. His face drew taut. “No family. Tell me about your acting.”

“I’m no professional. I just did it in school.”

“Are you good?”

Sam’s question threw her. No one had ever questioned her talent before. She always won the roles she sought, tried her best and audiences responded in kind. Would Sam consider that talent?

“Are
you
good?” she asked, evading an answer.

Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Well, I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

Julia allowed herself a smile. Here they were, two aspiring actors each afraid to admit they might actually possess talent. “I won the leads in high school plays and some awards for dramatic interpretation in the forensic club. And I aced drama class in school if that means anything in the professional world.”

Sam seemed truly delighted for her. “Excellent! And where will you be studying next fall?”

Julia sighed. “I’m going into nursing at the University of Wisconsin.”

Sam stopped walking. “Nursing?”

“I wanted to study acting.” She stared at the wet cobblestones beneath her feet. “My father won’t allow it.”

Sam resumed walking beside her, but their pace slowed as they talked. “Why not?”

“He says he doesn’t want me struggling for money all my life.”

“Well, if I had a penny for every time I heard that, I’d be exquisitely rich.”

“Yes, but did your
father
tell you that?” She did her best not to sound irritated with Sam, but talking about her father and college brought wounds to the surface.

If Sam noticed her tension, he pretended not to. “Yes. My father, mother, acting coach-”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Your coach told you acting doesn’t pay?”

“Bloody hell, yes. But he also told me I had talent, and if I was willing to work hard, be piss poor for a while and focus on the goal, I might make a real go of it. I can’t say the road hasn’t been rocky, but you can choose to be safe and stay put or ride out the storm, shall we say, and end where you want to be.”

She contemplated Sam’s words. “But at least the choice was yours. My father said he’d never give me another cent if I went into theater.”

Sam smiled down at her. She realized she probably sounded like a child. She felt color rise to her cheeks. How embarrassing to tell her problems to this handsome and caring stranger. He probably thought her silly, and not the grown-up, college bound co-ed she hoped to be.

“It’s still your choice, love,” Sam said, not treating her childlike at all. “But you chose the safe route. You don’t want to rock the boat, so to speak. What does your mother say?”

Julia drew a deep breath, blocking the reality of her words as she spoke. “She’s dead. She died two years ago.”

Sam stopped and turned to her. He lightly touched her arm. “Oh, love. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

Julia pulled away and walked on, not wishing to revisit the painful last two years.

“My mother’s dead, too. Ten years now,” she heard him say.

She stopped walking, and stood with her back to him. She was sorry his mother died, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t left trying to please his father. Sam couldn’t help her with this problem anymore than anyone else could.

He caught up with her and studied her face, his eyes filled with concern. “I’m sorry. You’re upset, again. I guess you don’t have a choice about your career?”

“No.” She sighed from the weariness in her heart, but something in his eyes encouraged her to explain. “My Dad is very strict with me since my mom died. I think he’s afraid of losing me too. I almost couldn’t come on this trip. And, he believes nursing is a more sensible career choice. He means well. He has a good heart.”

“But does he know you’re sacrificing your happiness to keep his?  Would he want that?  What about what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, looking away. “I received a scholarship to go to the University of Wisconsin. The money I saved for college, I spent on this trip. My dad’s paying the rest of my tuition so I don’t have to take out student loans. But, he won’t pay if I major in theater.”

“I’d just take out the loans and do what I wanted.” Sam took her by the elbow and they walked on. “Then again, maybe I’m not one to give advice. I’m not employed, so what do I know?”

They turned a corner and Julia recognized her hotel, a three-story, stone building with dark green shutters.

“That’s where I’m staying.” She felt relieved to find that the large rock still propped open the door. She turned to Sam and offered him a smile. “Thanks for walking me back.”

“It was my pleasure. Perhaps we’ll run into each other again?  How long are you in Rothenburg?”

“Just through tomorrow. We’re singing in front of Town Hall at one in the afternoon and leave the next day.”

“Ah. Perhaps I’ll come by tomorrow and assess your singing talent.” Sam winked.

Julia smiled, thinking she wouldn’t mind seeing Sam again. But what normal woman wouldn’t?  He was kind and all too gorgeous. She imagined him in a movie as the romantic lead with those kind eyes, chiseled cheekbones and sensuous strong hands.

“Where do you go after tomorrow?”

His deep voice interrupted the fantasy. “Um...we head out the day after for Austria.”

“Ah. Lovely country, Austria.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” Julia looked away, afraid he might read her thoughts and realize she found him attractive. She glanced at the hotel door, knowing she should leave, but not wanting to. “Good luck with getting that role, Sam. Perhaps I’ll see you on TV.”

“And, perhaps I’ll see
you
on the stage. Really, love. Your father can’t be all that horrible. You turned out all right. Pretty, too.”

She felt her cheeks go scarlet and looked away, secretly thrilled by the compliment.

“I embarrassed you. But you are pretty enough to be an actress. Give your father a chance.”

He certainly did not know her father.

She extended her hand. “I enjoyed meeting you, Sam Lyons, Soon-To- Be-Famous-Actor.” To her surprise, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, lightly. Still, the warmth from his mouth on her cool skin, sent shivers throughout her entire body. She loathed letting her hand free of his.

“Good night, dear lady.” Sam seemed as resistant to leave as she was. “I’m going to wait and make sure you safely enter the building.”

Julia drew back her hand and ascended the two small steps to the door. “I’ll be fine, now, thank you.”

He smiled and waved. She smiled, replaced the rock to allow her friends back in, and made her way up to bed. For the first time in a long while, her heart sang.

Sam entered his small hotel room and switched on the light. He removed his jacket, and tossed it on a nearby chair. Walking over to the window, he looked out into the night. The rain now pounded fierce against his window.

Despite the weather, Sam felt happier than he had in days. Talking with Julia made him feel part of the real world again, not just a player in the surreal life he was about to jump into. He smiled as he thought of her, so young, so pretty and so sad, like him. Her career decisions had been his ten years ago. It hadn’t been easy for him to go against his parents’ wishes, bow out of the family business and pursue an acting career.

Sam reached for a cigarette from his nightstand. Bloody hell. Who was he to be giving that sweet girl advice? What did he have to show for all his talent, anyhow?  Ten years of stage acting in small London troupes, and a very iffy television mini-series audition.

But acting was in his blood, and he felt it in Julia’s too. Wasn’t it his duty as a fellow actor, to help her pursue her dream? Yet, he upset her by mentioning her mother. And when tears welled in those wide, forget-me-knot blue eyes, something inside him, long buried, stirred. What was it?  Compassion?  He barely remembered it. He possessed it once, but it somehow became lost in his father’s rage towards him and his own anger and immense grief.

Sam sat on the bed, and rested his head against the down-filled pillows. He stared into space, still holding the unlit cigarette. Julia reminded him of himself, years ago, when the world was his palate, and dreams seemed attainable. He hoped he convinced her to look past her obstacles.

“Easier said than done,” he said aloud, remembering road blocks which haunted him still. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pushed Julia?  Perhaps he should have encouraged her to listen to her father?  He barely knew her. Maybe her father knew best, unlike his own, who never knew anything as far as Sam was concerned. Why did he feel as if it were his duty to direct her down the career path of acting when he had nothing substantial to show for it?

The shrill ring of the phone on the bedside table startled him. He stared at it, as if it were a sworn enemy. The only one who even knew he was in Rothenburg was his agent, Larry, and the only reason he might call would be if Sam won the part. Then again, if he picked the call up and it wasn’t Larry, the disappointment would be devastating. But the phone kept ringing, indicating urgency.

“It has to be Larry.” Sam grabbed for the phone. “Yes?”

“Where the hell are you, darling?” The silky smooth, high society voice of Deirdre Lamont oozed concern and irritation. “I’ve been ringing everywhere.”

Sam resisted the urge to hang up. “Well, if you have this number you know where I am.”

“Oh, Sammy.” A heavy, dramatic and practiced sigh breathed in his ear. “Why did you leave without telling me where you were going? I’ve spent most of my day working on Larry to tell me.”

Sam cringed. Poor Larry. Stuck with Deirdre hounding him for Sam’s whereabouts. And if Deirdre wanted something, she was relentless until she received it. Larry never stood a chance.

“I just wanted some time away.”

“Oh, but you should have told me, Sammy.” Saccharine sweetness replaced her cool edge. “I could have come with you.”

Sam glanced around the room as if a good response might be written on the walls. How could he admit that she was one of the reasons he left?  His eyes fell on the small, black velvet box next to phone. Any man in the world would give up all his possessions for the beautiful blonde blue-blood, yet Sam hesitated.

“Sammy?”

He knew he should speak. One did not keep Deirdre Lamont waiting.

“I’m still here.” Sam crushed the unlit cigarette he held between his fingers. “I just really needed to get away.”