Chapter 23 – The Cottage of Excelsior

Monday, January 2nd, 2006.
Ellie sniffed and groaned as the chauffeured car drove through the roads and laneways of the Scottish countryside. She and JC had spent around nine of the last thirty-six hours in flight. Approximately twelve more hours were spent in airports or in their apartment doing last minute laundry or packing. Yet, just as the last few hours of the second day of 2006 drew to a close, they were finally landed and on their way to a bed and a long, well-deserved sleep.
“When was the last time we saw sunlight?” she muttered as she watched the stone walls lining the roads pass by.
“You were either asleep or reading on the plane, so I guess just before we left Orlando.” JC gently combed his fingers through her hair as she leaned against his shoulder.
“Whose idea was it to leave first thing at dawn?”
“The earlier we leave, the earlier we arrive.”

r32;“It’s still late.”
“It’s only 8:30pm. You’ll get used to it.”
“It still feels late.”
“It’s 3:30pm in New York.”
“You didn’t spend all of last night doing laundry.” She groaned as she changed position. “Nor did you get your period on the flight over.”
“I honestly didn’t expect that to happen.”
“Really? ‘Cause I’ve been carrying around tampons and maxi pads around at all times for the past two weeks, just in case. Kind of makes me wish I was pregnant.” A tense silence fell over them. “At least I didn’t ruin Mama’s dress.”

The driver stopped at a large electronic gate, waiting for it to open. He continued on down a passageway in between a large wire fence and stone walls not unlike the ones that lined the roads. He got out of the car and opened a small metal gate, unlocking it before he got back into the car and drove through. He finally stopped in front of a small cottage, an old groundsman’s by the main estate that had been turned into a guesthouse by the new owner: Alexander MacCallum, or Alex for short.

Alex was the son of the late Jack MacCallum, an oil heir who turned his father’s fortune into billions in the personal computer boom of the ‘90s. Alex himself had studied commerce at St. Andrew’s College and moved into A&R, forming his own label after striking platinum with an assortment of R&B/pop acts. His label, Excelsior Records, had become a refuge for musicians who preferred to go against the grain of the mainstream. Alex had recently inherited the 4000-hectare estate after his father had died of bowel cancer.

In his attempts to woo JC over to his label, Alex had offered his guesthouse to the newlyweds. The driver took their luggage out of the trunk and placed it on the front step. “If you need me, I am at your disposal as long as it doesn’t interfere with my duties for Mr. MacCallum. Just press the red button on the phone; that will put you through to staff. Alex will be over to welcome you in the morning with the BMW if you want a private vehicle.”
JC took the keys off of the driver. “Thank you…”
“Shawn.”
“Shawn,” JC repeated him.
“No need for a tip, sir. Have a wonderful night. Congratulations.” Shawn made his way back to the car and drove off.

Ellie took what she could carry and dropped it into the bedroom up the stairs. She groaned as she saw the red rose petals arranged into the shape of a love heart on the four-poster bed. “Fuck me…” She plopped herself right in the middle of the arrangement, a flurry of petals and exhaustion flying around the room.

JC poked around downstairs, finding eggs, bacon, and steak amongst other things already stocked in the fridge. He found the cookbook with a note saying that if they wished, the book was a collection of simple traditional Scottish recipes to try during their stay, the kitchen being fully equipped. He carefully carried the rest of the luggage upstairs and burst into laughter as he found Ellie sprawled across the bed. He delicately climbed on top of her, kissing her neck.
“Eh…” She batted him away. “I’m too tired.”
“There’s steak in the fridge.”
“We ate at the airport.”
“I know. I’m just saying that someone stocked the kitchen with enough food to get us through the night.”
“That’s nice. Can I go to sleep now?”

He carefully turned her over, untying her shoes and taking them off one by one. He undid the fly on her jeans and slipped them off her. He slid her sweater and tank top over her head and threw them onto the floor, unhooking her bra, then offering her his own sweatshirt. He put the sweatshirt on her, pulling it down her outstretched arms. He kissed her before she tucked herself underneath the covers, flinging what she could of the rest of the rose petals onto the floor. She shivered in the bedclothes as she watched him undress, taking out the first pair of comfortable pants he could find from the suitcase and putting them on, joining her in bed. She kissed him before she snuggled into his chest, watching as he picked a rose petal from her hair and blew it across the room. She paused for a moment. “Shit…” She threw the bedclothes of them and rifled through her purse, taking a small bundle into the bathroom.

Around noon on the third, Ellie flipped the steak in a cast iron skillet. JC slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m really hoping you packed the condoms I got for Christmas.”
“Don’t you think it’s funny that the one necessity we would need on our honeymoon, you got a box of them as a gag gift for Christmas?” She giggled as she kissed him.
“I don’t think it was that much of a gag gift.”
“I’m only concerned with how long it’s going to take us to get through all twenty-four of them.”
He turned her around and pressed her against the kitchen cupboards. “Is that a challenge?”

A honking sounded from behind the house. Within seconds, the backdoor of the cottage shook as someone beat their knuckles against its glass. JC had barely opened the door before a lanky redheaded man bounded into the kitchen.
“Giud Mornin’! A see ye got en well. A hope the flight ova weren’t too brutal on ya! Ach, this bonnie lass must be the new misses Sh-zay? Alexander MacCallum, Alex will do. If I had known there were lasses as beautiful as this, A woulda taken her for myself.”
JC introduced the two. “Ellie, Alex. Alex, Ellie.”
Alex offered out his hand, shaking Ellie’s vigorously. “Nice tae meet ye. Whaur abouts en the colonies ar ye fae?”
“Louisiana was never colonised by the British. It was colonised by the French, then sold to the Americans.”
“Well, I never knew that, lassie. New Orleans sure is a nice city, though.”
“Yeah.” She returned to the pan. “Um, I don’t know who I should thank, but thank you for getting us a little bit of food.”
“Nae problem. I better let ye two alane now. Get back to ye dinner. Hae a giud day, bye for noo.” Alex placed the keys to the car he had drove up on the bench and started to hike his way back to the main house.

"Wow, I honestly didn't think people like that existed," Ellie said as she turned off the burner and placed the fillet of steak onto a plate to rest.
"Scotsmen?"
"No, stereotypical eccentric billionaires."
"You live in New York," JC pointed out.
"I don't know. I don't really mingle with 5th Avenue types. You know, the 'I have a fuck load of money so I'm going to refuse to uphold any feign of appropriateness' type."
"Miles."
"Touché." She cut the steak into slices and made sandwiches with the meat, some sautéed onions, and toast.

"I was wondering." He sat down at the tiny kitchen table. "You never told me what your first date was."
"That's because it wasn't anything exciting. Nor is it really something you talk about."
"What was it?"
"You know that patch of trees by the river I keep talking about?"
"Oh God."
"We were supposed to go to a movie, but he wanted to show me his 'special place.' What I didn't know, is by his special place, Miles meant his penis."
"I'm eating." JC struggled to talk through a mouthful. “What would’ve been your dream first date?”
“Probably to some school dance or something. There was this roller rink with an arcade we used to go to every Saturday. You know, the extended version little group I socialised with in middle school. If a boy liked you, he usually asked if he could hang out with you exclusively one week." She picked at her sandwich. "It's weird, ‘cause when I was younger, like twelve, I really thought that I wanted that fairy-tale first date. You know, the boy you like asks you to prom and you and your mama go to the mall and get your first grown-up dress from the ladies section. As I've gotten older, I just kind of wish I was confident enough to have had my first date around the same time my friends did."
"Would you like to do something whilst we're here? Like something more than just the typical touristy stuff?"
"I don't know. We're going to be here awhile, so we might as well. Can we wait a few days though? Until I'm finished...you know..." She awkwardly tore apart a piece of crust.
"I'm eating."

Thursday, January 5th, 2006.
JC lightly tapped on the bathroom door. "Hey." He greeted Ellie as he pushed it open.
"Hi, did you get everything I asked you to?" Ellie sat dwarfed by the giant claw-footed bathtub of the bathroom.
"Um...milk, flour, baker's yeast and instant porridge oats. I tried, but I couldn't find a New York Times more recent than Tuesday's." He leaned over to kiss her.
"It'll do, thanks." She softly held his hand. "Join me. There's enough room for the two of us."
She laid back and watched him undress, biting her lip as he slipped off his jeans and underwear. He carefully nudged her forward as he stepped behind her in the bath, pulling her into his lap as he settled down. She made a contented grunt as he kissed her shoulder.

They sat for a moment, tenderly caressing each other.
"I can't do this. My skin feels like it's on fire." Ellie readjusted herself, turning around and lying against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. "I want to fuck you, but I don't want you to leave me for one second to go get a rubber."
"We could go without," he suggested as he squeezed her ass.
"I don't think that's a good idea. We just had a pregnancy scare."
"What if I want a baby?"
"What if I don't?"
"What if you do?" He wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her up.
"I'm not ready." She kissed his forehead. "It's not that I don't love you, or that I don't want your children. It's just that our lives are going to completely change if we become parents. I'm not ready for that kind of responsibility." She patiently waited for him to respond. He never did.

The next day, the two of them strolled along the wall-walk of Edinburgh Castle, bundled up as a fierce wind blew. Ellie peered over the edge, quickly stepping back with unease at the height.
"Careful now." JC gently grabbed her forearm. "It's slippery." He wrapped his arms around her waist as they looked over the city. "I was wondering, did your parents give you any marriage advice?"
"Specifically for us, or in general?"
"I'm not sure."
"My mama told me once that I should marry my best friend. My dad on the other hand advised me a few months back that a healthy marriage is built of three things: a willingness to work through anything, the willingness to compromise, and the absolute priority of making sure the other person is happy and feels loved. Did your parents ever give you any advice?"
"My dad said something about needing to grow up and needing to realise that it's just not me anymore."
She paused for a moment. "He doesn't believe we can make it?"
"Probably not. I don't think he was expecting me to ever get married, at least, not for awhile. It's been some time since I was in serious relationship."

She intertwined her fingers in his. "Would you have married Eva if she loved you back?"
"Probably not. We fought constantly."
"We fight constantly."
"It's not the same," he explained. "You yell when you're upset and you usually won't move on until we've worked through and resolved what's wrong. When Eva and I fought, it was because something was wrong and either it was my fault or I wasn't fixing it fast enough. That, or she wanted to rile me up because our relationship was mainly physical." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "You don't realise how much you hate make-up sex and hate-fucking until you haven't had to do it in awhile."
"Have we ever..?"
"No, I don't hate you. You frustrate me sometimes, but I don't hate you."
"I don't hate you, either."
He lightly kissed her cheek. "That's nice."

Saturday, January 14th, 2006.
JC held the door for Ellie as they entered the arcade.
"Is that seriously a slot machine?" Ellie commented as she removed her jacket. "Why are we even here?"
"We've been to every major tourist attraction: every castle, every gallery, every museum. Maybe it's time to do something a little more casual. Plus, we haven't had a date in a while."
Ellie stopped in thought. "I don't think we've had an actual date since before Thanksgiving. We've had outings, but not any official dates."
"Yeah, we haven't had one since we got married...You could say it's our first date as a married couple."
Ellie smiled. "You planned this, didn't you?"
"Maybe."

Ellie threw the mini basketball at the hoop. "I don't even know why you want to play against me," she commented as the ball bounced off the backboard, missing the hoop entirely. "You always beat me."
"You might win someday." JC swapped the can of Coke he was holding for the ball, dribbling it a few times. "Watch me." He aimed and took his shot, landing a rimshot. "You need to follow through."
"I don't even know what that means."
"You don't just throw it. You need to continue the arc you want the ball to make after you've thrown it. It helps with aim."
"Give me the ball."
He gave her the ball, standing behind her. "Let me help." He guided her as she threw, helping her score a basket. "See?"
"That wasn't me; you did that."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You're a boy; you're taught how to do these things when you were a kid."
"Lots of girls play ball."
"I didn't."
He sighed. "Fine, you can take my last shot then. You had my advantage for yours, now I'll have your disadvantage for mine. It's only fair."
"I'll miss."
"I'm not going to die if I miss one point."
"Fine." She took the ball out of the tray below the hoop. She turned the ball in her hands as she took position, taking a shot. The ball twanged off the rim and fell straight down into the tray. "See? What did I tell you?"
He swiftly took the ball from the tray, throwing it one-handed into the hoop. "There, 2-2, it's a draw. No winner, no loser."
"I don't know why you wanted me to win. It's only a game. I wouldn't have been butt hurt if I lost. You're just better at some things. Let's go home and make out in the bath."

"OK then. One last thing though." He bent down in front of the row of small vending machines. "Ever heard of a 'gashapon?'"
"A what?"
"A gashapon." He slipped a 50 pence coin into the slot of the fourth one along. "It's a Japanese vending machine, for toys and shit."
"Like a quarter machine."
"Is that the word for them?" He turned the dial, waiting for an opaque white ball to drop down.
"I worked in a roadside diner from twelve till twenty-two. You pick things up. What did you get?"
"Nothing really." He slipped the ball into his jacket pocket.
"Come on..." she begged him. "What toy did you get?"
"What's it to you?"
"You make this whole deal about it, and you won't even open it to see what you got."
"Fine then..." He handed her the ball out of his pocket. "You can open it."

She gently squeezed on the ball, snapping it in two. She removed the little pamphlet inside to find a gold necklace. She looked at the pamphlet, going over the collection of Hello Kitty key rings shown. She checked the front of the machine, seeing the same collection of key rings on the leaflet behind the glass. "Is this a dupe?" She slowly took out the necklace, catching the cross pendant made of red stones. "Rubies?"
"Garnets."
"You came here earlier, found a machine with uniform capsules, bought one, swapped the toy for a necklace, hid it in your pocket, bought the second just now, put the second in your pocket, and took out the first with the necklace?"
He nodded.
"Why?"
"I wanted to do something nice. Sometimes I feel like you don't know just how much I appreciate you."
She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I think a problem we have is that we're so in love with each other and so thankful to have each other that we feel like words can't necessarily express our feelings."
He lightly kissed the tip of her nose. "You see, I wouldn't classify that as a problem."

He sat on the edge of the bathtub, filling it with water as he waited for her. "How hot do you want the bath?"
"Tepid, I guess."
"Can you hurry up? I'm going insane from want in here."
She slinked into the doorframe, modelling her black turtleneck and jeans like they were the finest French lingerie. "Hey..." she said in a deep, breathy whisper.
"What are you doing?"
She twirled around. "I'm being sexy."
"You sound like you exist on a pack of cigarettes and two bottles of scotch a day."
"Don't you find that...sexy?" She burst into a fit of giggles.
"Come here." He reached out his hands to her, pulling her towards him to kiss her. "You're sexy just the way you are."
"Would I still be sexy if I took my sweater off?"
"I don't know. Why don't you take it off and see?"

She slowly peeled her turtleneck off, pulling her purple camisole down after she dropped her sweater by her feet. "Am I still as sexy?"
"Not a fraction more."
"Not a fraction less?"
"Not a fraction less," he repeated, slowly running his fingertips underneath her top, following the curves of her back. "I wonder if taking this off will affect it."  He slowly lifted the camisole over her head. She bit her lip as he kissed just under where the cups of her deep lilac bra met. She made a small grunt as he ran his fingers across the skin of her abdomen. She gasped as he teased her nipple through the lace of her bra. She reached behind her and unhooked the clasp, smiling as he watched attentively as she slid the straps off her arms, revealing her gorgeous breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he murmured as she kissed him.
"But am I still as sexy?"
"You're the sexiest woman on this Earth."
"Has it changed from before?"
"Not one iota." He gently kissed her between breasts, running his fingertips along the waistband of her jeans. He undid the button and pulled down the zipper, pulling the waistband down with her panties. He leaned forward to kiss her pubic bone, licking the skin above the tuff of dark pubic hair. He slipped his fingers between her legs, playing with her pussy as he spread her wetness.
She took his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips. "What does it taste like?"
"Like the sweetest dessert wine."
"If we don't hurry up, I don't think we'll even make it into the tub."

She stepped out of her jeans and into the bath. He watched as she sat down. He swirled the water around, watching the ripples dance along her skin, hiding and revealing her pinkest, most private of parts.
"Are you OK?"
"I want to remember you like this. I want to remember how beautiful you look right now. I want to remember how much I'm in love with you and how happy I am." He undressed and joined her, lying between her legs.
"You never realise how lonely you were until..."
"Until what?"
"I don't know. I don't know how to describe it. I don't want to say 'part of a couple' or 'in a relationship,' ‘cause I've done both, and I still felt desperately alone."
"Do you think 'until you find your soulmate' fits?" he suggested.
"Do you want to go that far?"
"I would." He gently kissed her.
They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment. She wiped his hair back. "Make love to me."

He slid his arms around her shoulders, kissing her as he slipped his hand between her legs. He slipped two fingers into her pussy. She gasped as he made tiny circular motions, kissing her neck, chest and breasts.
"Daddy..." she groaned as she gripped the rim of the bath. She pulled him closer to her, kissing him as she dug her fingernails into his back.
"Mummy," he whispered as he licked her neck. He bit her skin and started to suck, taking in as much of her as he could, for as long as he could. He released the flesh, leaving a deep wine-coloured mark. "Damn."
"What's wrong?" she asked in a whimper.
"I've left quite the love bite."
"What?"
"I gave you a hickey."
"That's nice. Rub my clit," she whispered.

He slipped his fingers out of her and got out of the tub, despite her protests.
"Baby, no." She grabbed his hand, trying to stop him leaving her. She pulled him back towards the bath and grasped his penis, running her fingers along his length. She teased the head with her mouth as he leaned forward and pulled the chain on the plug.
"Stand up," he growled in command.

She followed his orders as he lifted her out of the bath and hoisted her over his shoulder. He carefully carried her into the bedroom, placing her across the bed. He lifted her ass and entered her, pleasuring her as he started thrusting.
"This is OK. I can live with this." She gasped, twisting her body as she finally came. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lay on top of her, grasping her knees to their sides. He thrusted into her as deep as he could, as hard as he could, gasping with each motion.
"Fuck me," she whispered, kissing his ear as he made love to her.
"Tell me you love me."
"I love you." She played with the hair at the base of his neck as he lifted his head to kiss her, heaving as he gave off his last few thrusts.

He let go of her knees and steadied himself. "I don't want to continue in the industry if I'm going to lose you because of it."
"I'm not going to leave you," she whispered, touching his cheek in reassurance.
"But I'm going to leave you, constantly. I'm going to keep leaving you home alone, unless you want to come with me."
"We'll work something out. Nothing's set in stone yet."
"But what if I have to leave you?"
"I'll wait. I'll wait as long as you want me to. I'll stay as long as you want me." She tenderly kissed him. "I love you, remember?"

Sunday, January 15th, 2006.
JC quietly slipped out of bed, sneaking around the room as he dressed. He watched Ellie sleep for a moment, kissing her temple.
"I'm going out for a while."
"Where?" She turned over.
"Just a hike around the grounds. I'll be back in a while."
"Do you want me to come?"
"I won't be that long. Go back to sleep." He tucked the blanket around her shoulders, tracing the curves of her form over the covers.

He locked the back door before he set out, fixing his scarf and woollen hat as he trudged through the winter rain along the trail to the main house. He felt dread in his gut as he tried to make his final decision. He had no idea what he wanted. The rockstar lifestyle wasn't enough for him anymore. He didn't want to completely commit himself to his work any longer, choosing fame and riches along with loneliness. But he couldn't just turn off wanting to create, wanting to perform. He hated the fact that he felt like he had to choose. Either Ellie or music. Either his wife or his career. Not even one month, he thought to himself, stopping to sit on top of the stone wall lining the trail. We've haven't even been married a month and I'm contemplating leaving her. Dad was right.

Tears stung his eyes along with the cold. "God, I don't know if you can hear me, but can you please give me the strength to stick by her? If I start working again, I'm going to have to leave her, and it's going to be incredibly hard to do her right. I want to honour the gift you've given me, but I need her; I'm not quite ready to let her go yet. I know I've asked you this before, and I've gone back on my word, but it’s different this time. I asked you when it was too late, after I had struggled with temptation and committed my sins. I'm asking you this time to guide me, so I won't do that again. Help me better myself, help me change for her..." He trailed off.

He thought about where he was, chuckling when he realised the irony of his position between the cottage and the main house. To his left was his new life, the life he had built with Ellie, the comforts of love, whilst at his right was his old life, his career, at least what remained of it. What if the minor hit “Dear Goodbye” was a fluke? What if there was no more prosperity left for him? He had already been given a lifetime of good fortune with *NSYNC. He had seen the world, performed for millions of fans and earned a comfortable life to last him until his dying day. Why did he need to test fate further? He stood up and continued up to the main house.

"Alex?" JC tapped lightly on the glass of the greenhouse.
"Ach, mornin'. Ya caught me whilst I was tending to my pumpkins."
"Hey."
"How's the missus?"
"She's good. Having a sleep in."
"Nice thing to do on a Sunday." Alex delicately plucked a leaf off of a stem. "What can I do for you?"
"I want to talk about the contract," JC explained.
"Have you come to your decision? Your lawyer and manager think they've gotten it to a place where they're happy with it. Have they gone over it with you?"
"Yeah, it's up to whether or not I want to finalise it, now."
"Do you?" Alex leaned against a table.
"I'm not sure. I've spent a long time out of the business recently. I know eight months doesn't seem that long to some, but I was working non-stop for nearly a decade before."
"I understand."
"My life's also changed a lot in those few months. Some things have come into my life, some people have entered my life that I'm not really willing to lose for professional success."
"I understand."

Alex walked around the table. "JC, do you know why I didn't stop offering after everyone else did?"
"Why?"
"I don't care about the business. You see all this? My grandfather built this house with the fortune he made bringing electricity to Scotland. I could give half of my fortune away and I would still have enough to take care of this house well past my death. I'm not some incubus wanting to drain every pence I can out of you. I've seen the industry, I've seen it ruin families, but I'm willing to fit my business model to keep yours going, ya get me?"

Alex stepped as close as he could to JC. "I know your story. I know how many times you've been fucked over. I can imagine how much damage that's done to your private life. But I want to give you something they never did. I can see how talented you are. I can see that you have all of these ideas that no one in mainstream pop would be willing to go near. You would either have to be a genius or a madman to release some of your music. I want to be that madman. I want to show the world what you're truly capable of. I want you to say, 'Fuck it, my music deserves to be out there like everyone else's.'"

They stood in silence. "I'm not another Justin Timberlake," JC pointed out.
"I don't fucking care. If I wanted another Justin Timberlake, or a watered down Michael Jackson clone to be correct, I could find thousands of them if I wanted. I don't want that; I want you." Alex patted JC on the back. "I understand if you don't want to be locked down into a contract, but if you want a guy that will release your record, just come get me, ok?"
"OK."