Making Love

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The first time we were separated was awful. He was in America for two months, filming, and we were both missing each other like crazy.

We texted throughout most of the day and spoke on the phone each night, but it wasn’t the same.

“I should have four days off this weekend, why don’t you fly out,” he suggested after three weeks away. We had already discussed that since my work was saved onto the cloud, as long as I had internet access, my laptop and tablet, I could work from anywhere, but not only would his lifestyle disrupt my life pretty severely, I was feeling the pressure of money.

I’m not poor by any stretch of the imagination, and I consider myself lucky to be able to earn a decent living, but my wages were nowhere near his league. I had a few thousand in savings but monthly or bi-monthly Transatlantic flights would quickly eat into those funds, even though I didn’t have to pay for accommodation.

I hated accepting hand-outs though, which is why, although he had grumbled to begin with, I insisted on paying for every other meal we had out. It only seemed fair to me, just like it was only fair that I paid for my own flights if I was going to visit him. Why should he pay for my travel? This wasn’t the 1800s, where women’s earnings and possessions were considered to be her husband’s property.

Even the cheapest flights were almost £600 though (I'd already had a look), and I wasn’t sure I could justify that for 4 days.

“I don’t know,” I said softly.

“Please, darling. I’d love to see you.”

I hesitated. I wanted to see him too but it felt indulgent.

“You know I’d come and see you if I could,” he coaxed.

I knew he would, and the only reason he hadn’t suggested it was that with 12-14 hour flights, his travelling would rob us of two out of his four days off, while I could travel the day before and after. 

“Do you think you might get any more time off soon?” I asked. Maybe if I could stretch the visit to a week or two, I could justify it as a holiday.

“Not sure,” he answered. “We get Sunday’s off but any more than that depends on if we have any setbacks or finish early. Why, you thinking of staying longer?”

“I wondered about making a holiday of it.”

“That’s a great idea!” I could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. “I can’t promise to be around much on the day’s we’re shooting, but you can come to the set, or go out and do tourist stuff.”

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be in the way?”

“Darling, you could never be in the way. How long were you thinking of staying?”

“I don’t know. Two weeks, maybe?”

“You can stay longer.”

“I’m not sure if I can commit to longer yet, the children’s book is coming out at the beginning of next month and the publishers said they might want me for the promotion.”

“They don’t know?”

“I don’t think they know what shows they’re going to book yet. The writer will do most of it but if they get some art programs or magazines, they might ask me to do it. They said something about Art Attack and giving a quick tutorial on how kids can draw the characters themselves, but I haven’t heard back.”

Honestly, that would probably be towards the end of next month, but I didn’t want to interfere with Tom’s life too much.

“Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll book you an open ended ticket, then you can go back when you want.”