Chapter 6: British Bliss
A movie premiere? Rory?
She didn't get many details out of Jess in their brief phone conversation before her flight but he promised to fill her in when they met today at St. James Park, the oldest of the eight Royal Parks.
As she waits for Jess she leans over the edge of the park's lake and squints into it, sun rays floating along the moving water, her reflection disfigured by the ripples below. In this serene atmosphere she thinks about Lewis and Matilda Price, the couple in their eighties whom she's staying with in their first-floor London flat. They remind her of the sweet grandparents she never had.
Last night after dinner the trio sat on the porch watching the sun set and eating their roly-poly, a jam pudding baked in pastry dough. The Price couple held hands, which looked identical in their frail wrinkled state. When she looked up from her dessert she caught them exchanging playful and mischievous glances, as if speaking a secret and personal language that they perfected over more than 60 years of marriage.
Rory's thoughts are pulled back to her surroundings as a strong whiff of cooked chicken soars along the wind. A man in his fifties sits on a smooth tan park bench nearby, chomping down on his lunch sandwich.
She turns back to the lake where mute swans glide across the water with the grace of ballroom dancers.
Interest in the atmosphere dissipates when she feels gentle familiar arms wrap around her waist.
Before facing him she jokes, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"If you don't, now would be a pretty good time to yell for the Queen's Guard," Jess says.
"Yeah? You think I could get an exclusive tour of the palace?"
He says, "Probably, if you play up the distressed-damsel angle well enough."
Jess drops his arms from her waist and weaves a hand into hers.
Rory nestles her hand deeper into his, regretting how long it's been since her hand touched his.
This park's atmosphere reminds Rory of their time together in Love Park a month ago, but today's views enhance the experience in a more grand and regal way.
The bursting fountain on the lake in London could swallow up the one in Love Park, and instead of seeing the Philly skyline as the backdrop to the fountain, Rory takes in the enormity of Buckingham Palace. Its majestic gray and white steeples crowd the concentrated area, intimidating potential threats by its formidable and imposing presence.
They walk in comfortable silence around the lake, absorbing the warmth and beauty of St. James Park. Rory feels their touch as the only form of communication they need right now, blissful in their new unspoken relationship.
Several minutes pass before Jess leads with, "So, the premiere…"
"Yeah," Rory says, "what's going on? I thought the premiere would be in L.A."
"The U.S. one will be, but since most of the filming was done in Europe it's premiering here first – at the Odeon Leicester Square, actually."
She recognizes the name from the thorough research she's done on the topic since Jess' initial invitation. It's the most frequent venue for these types of events, and it's the largest single-screen theater in the United Kingdom, seating more than 1,500 people.
"And you want to take me?" Rory struggles to comprehend this incredible truth.
Jess pulls her closer and nuzzles her cheek. "Don't act all surprised."
Rory's face begins to heat up.
"What am I supposed to wear?" she asks.
Jess shrugs with indifference. "Something you'd wear to a movie premiere."
"I left my red-carpet dress at home," Rory states.
Jess adds, "Along with your handgun."
"Yes, along with my handgun."
"So you'll get a new one," Jess says. Continuing, his expression turns serious. "Since I invited you, you gotta let me pay for the dress."
Her instinct is to refuse, but her appearance has implications on his career and reputation – as stupid as that is, she knows it's how show biz works. Plus, he was the one to invite her, so it wasn't like she begged to tag along and then asked him to put up the money.
As she's ready to concede, he says, "On one condition."
Her eyebrow lifts in question.
"Whatever amount I give you, you can't spend a pound less."
Rory takes a deep and humbled breath, suspecting the sum to be substantial and that she'd be inclined to argue against it. But she acquiesces with a slight nod.
Quiet excitement lights up his face, as he seems much more eager to give the money than she is to spend it.
Redirecting the conversation from money and materialism she says, "A lot of the filming was done in Europe, huh? Which cities?"
Jess rattles off locations with the same enthusiasm she'd expect to hear from him reading off a grocery list. "Paris, Prague, Glasgow, Frankfurt and here."
"Wow, Jess, I had no idea," she says, amazed by the dream opportunities.
"Cities are cities. Don't get me wrong, it was a ton of fun but you can find something attractive anywhere – even in strange tiny Connecticut towns." His eyes reveal the rest of the story.
She grins in understanding and asks, "Did you spend a lot of time in London?"
"Just a few weeks."
She bites her lip, restricting her next thought from forming into words.
Jess catches her internal struggle and says, "Just ask."
After a few more seconds of resistance she caves. "Did you, you know, have certain people that you hung out with when you weren't working on set?
"Do you mean did I hang out with any girls?" Jess teases.
Rory looks away to conceal her crazed curiosity.
"Most of the cast was around my age so I hung out with them a lot." He specifies, saying, "I dated a few of the girls but nothing serious."
Rory suppresses a sigh, which would make her profound relief too obvious.
The subtle increase of pressure from his fingers to her hand lets Rory know that no one's ever measured up to her in his heart.
A terrifying thought comes to Rory and she freezes.
Jess' eyes fix on her anxious expression. "What is it?"
She utters, "The premiere."
"Yeah?"
"The premiere – it's tomorrow."
"That is correct," Jess confirms, not seeing the problem.
"So I need to get a dress today," Rory says in a panic.
Jess shakes his head. "Don't worry, you'll have one before you can say 'celebrity suck-ups.'"
"You clearly have never shopped for dresses."
"Can't say that I have."
"You taught me a new kind of math today," Jess says, carrying the bulky clump of white plastic, reminiscent of Atlas upholding the heavens.
Each step forward is a small success as they approach the Prices' front door. He explains, "Five hours plus 15 stores equals one dress."
"Mom and I have topped that in a day," Rory declares.
Jess says, "Sixteen-hour days on set were never so exhausting."
"I'm not going to say, 'I told you so.'"
Jess reacts with a playful glare. "Well, thank you for that." He nods to the dress, saying, "Can't wait to see it on you."
"No peeking," Rory warns.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
A strange sensation surfaces in Rory. The exchange is like one between a bride and her groom in regard to keeping the dress a secret until their wedding day.
Her confused expression is interpreted as concern over attending such an important party.
Jess says, "Don't worry, it'll be fine. You'll love it."
"You act like you've done this a million times before."
He passes the heap of dress on to her as they stop near the door.
Jess shrugs and leans in closer. "It can't be that complicated - just a couple of cameras, some paparazzi and a lot of fake smiles."
"Is that supposed to make me feel –"
Jess cups Rory's head in his hands and, with passionate enthusiasm, presses his lips onto hers.