Scattered Seeds

Chapter Forty-Five

“If we keep shooting on weekends we might even manage to wrap-up early,” the director announced after their filming ended for the day.

Tom’s mind went straight to what this meant for Jess and him.

Home.

“I know it’s been a rough road, people, but this movie is going to epic. You’ll all be very proud you’re a part of it in the end, I assure you.” The director dismissed them, and the crew began shutting things down.

Tom, weary and stiff from many takes on another high-action scene, took painful steps away from the set. His muscles ached, and he longed to soak in a hot tub.

The idea of Jess in the water behind him, her long legs wrapped around his waist as she washed and massaged his tired body, flitted through Tom’s imagination. Perhaps once he returned to her and made amends with Jess, they could christen the tub of her townhouse one evening….

What he wouldn't give or do to have her there with him now. A fire erupted inside the man as he fantasized of his Love; a fire that, although diminished by both space and time, still smoldered in the ashes of the memory of their night together in Africa.

How long ago it was when he claimed her….  

Tom imagined his hands in Jess’s wavy locks, combing through them at long last. He could almost feel the tingling sensation of his lips on the sweetest of lady skin.

Before the daydream could go any further, Tom paused in the midst of other actors and crew members to listen to his messages.

Running a long-fingered hand over his fatigued face, he skipped through those from his mother, sister, and Luke in search of anything from Jess.

“Tom,” the voice that rang truer to him than all others came across the line. “I’m going home for two weeks. I need to see the mountains,” Jess explained in the voicemail. “I have to make sure that my family is alright, and I want to spend some time with them.”

“But,” he faltered aloud while rushing away from his coworkers, dreading what Jess might convey next. Tom stilled himself, but then ripped at his hair and muttered out a few words. “Will you come….”He wanted to say home, knowing full well that the recording could not hear him. “Back?”

Tom waited, paused in motion while Jess said that she was thinking of him, and was doing well in London. Before ending the call, there was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line. Tom remained frozen while seizing breaths culminated in his chest and slid up to grip his throat.

Please say it.

Please tell me that you love me.

“I miss you, Tom,” came a forlorn farewell before the message ended.

Tom, holding his phone and standing rigid, began to worry as lights shut down around him and people vacated the set.

What would it be like when he went back to England?

The time they spent apart was opening an unrelenting void between Tom and Jess.

Would she even be there?

If Jess went back to America she might forget all about him. The familiar hills and sunsets she spoke of with such passion would, without a doubt, capture her once again.

And Tom, helpless and stranded in Spain, was incapable of stopping Jess from returning to where she thought she belonged.

The dull ache that he managed to bury deep inside each morning just so he could face the day began to strangle Tom all over again. It crushed the actor to realize that his career was yet again forcing him to forfeit that which he truly wanted to do.