#frasers ridge
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Best of 2023 TV Shows #19: Outlander (Starz)
The drumbeats of revolutionary war never seem more imminent for Jamie and Claire as they see the conflict inch closer to Fraserâs Ridge.
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While Roger and Briana are forced to return to the present to help their expanding family.
Sinead OâConnor graces us with her musical talents one more time as we get her take on The Skye Boat Song.
The bone really does echo.
SUM 22: Outlander returns to form with the first half of its penultimate season. The Fraserâs really do need a break after all this.ïżŒ
#outlander#caitriona balfe#sam heughan#claire fraser#jamie fraser#claire x jamie#sophie skelton#revolutionary war#Frasers ridge#an echo in the bone#outlander season 7#season 7 part 1#best of 2023 tv shows#best of 2023#tv shows#19#tie#diana gabaldon#Youtube#Briana outlander#Briana x Roger#young ian#ticonderoga#sinead o'connor#skye boat song#sing me a song of a lass that is gone
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PSA: An Appalachian cry for help
Rather unusually, I have received this poignant message yesterday, in the middle of the European night, and I am now honoring it, with @novel-dreams' permission to share part of our DM convo:
@novel-dreams also provided this dramatic on-the-spot feedback:
[Click here for a more complete reblog, photos included: https://www.tumblr.com/the-elder-polls/762929863960166400/to-those-of-you-reblogging-this-thank-you-i-have?source=share]
And S himself shared the American Red Cross' appeal on behalf of the victims of hurricane Helene in North Carolina and Tennessee:
So, if you want to help and I strongly suggest you do so, even symbolically, as even dimes can make a difference to those left with absolutely nothing, here are a couple of other links for vetted local NGOs:
Most of these, such as Operation Airdrop or Manna Food Bank, may not take overseas donations and this makes me feel somewhat helpless, but all I am asking you, really, is at least to help spread this message, if you are unable/unwilling to pitch in.
In the meanwhile, we are ploughing through our own dressings, Shipper Mom and I, because we also had devastating floods in my own country and there are thousands who lost absolutely everything.
Let this be a reminder climate change is no joke.
[Later edit]: @txgenelady added this extra resource:
And I am adding The American Red Cross' dedicated link: https://www.redcross.org/donate/dr/hurricane-helene.html/
This post will remain open and might be regularly updated if you have any other idea or resource.
[Later edit 2]: Adding in the link for the North Carolina Disaster Relief Fund (thank you, @poughkeepsielass!): https://pay.payitgov.com/ncdonations (I have donated a very small amount here, from the đ, the RC won't take my money), along with World Central Kitchen (thank you, @sarcastic-poll!): https://donate.wck.org/give/622465/?_gl=1qcys45_gcl_auMTQzNDU4MTEwMi4xNzI3ODA1MTkz_gaMTEwMjkzMjY4Ni4xNzI3ODA1MTkz_ga_5WKVY8503C*MTcyNzgwNTE5My4xLjEuMTcyNzgwNTIxNy4zNi4wLjA.#!/donation/checkout
[Later edit 3]: added The Cajun Navy Relief (https://www.cajunnavyrelief.com/)
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Behind-the-scenes of burning down The Big House
#outlander#outlander bts#outlanderedit#jamie x claire#samcait#outlander 7x03#caitriona balfe#sam heughan#jamie fraser#claire fraser#death be not proud#fraser's ridge#my edit
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4x03 âThe False Brideâ
#outlander#outlander art#outlanderedits#83daysofoutlander#caitriona balfe#claire fraser#sassenach#diana gabaldon#jammf#sam heughan#drums of autumn#jamie fraser#Fraserâs ridge#outlanderseason4#outlander4x03#jamie and claire#jamie x claire#north carolina#thefrasersoftheridge
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Hi - could I please request a mood board of Jamie and Claire enjoying domestic life at the Big House on Fraserâs Ridge? I always loved those happy moments in the books. Wish there were more in the series.
Thank you! â€ïž
It was so good to get back to Jamie and Claire, especially when they are together and happy. <3 Thanks so much for requesting. I hope you like this!
#outlander#jamie x claire#the ridge#moodboard#request#Claire Fraser#Jamie Fraser#I love them so much#beautiful relationship#beautiful marriage
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Wednesday 100: The Godfather
Brianna was leaning against the animalsâ enclosure when Murtagh sidled up to her. She smiled at him and he saw Jamie in the way she drew up her mouth, but her eyes showed the same light heâd always seen in Claireâs.
âWhat were they like?â She interrupted his thoughts.
âYer parents?â He asked and Bree nodded. âHm, intolerable comes to mind,â he smirked at her, âmuch the same as they are today.â
âItâs not so bad, having parents so in love with each otherâŠâ
âThey started as an arranged marriage, aye? But yer Da, he was gone from the first.â
#outlander#jamie x claire#my fic#wednesday100#murtagh fitzgibbons fraser#brianna fraser#season 4 Bree comes to the ridge era
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Outlander (2018)
#2018#film#series#TV show#television#Outlander#Sam Heughan#Jamie Fraser#James Fraser of Lallybroch#Caitriona Balfe#Claire Randall#Sassenach#Fraser's Ridge#North Carolina#Blue Ridge Mountains#New England Colonies#Thirteen Colonies#time travel#red coat
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Outlander + Costumes
Jocasta Cameron's black dress in Season 05, Episode 08.
// requested by @lulu-cat-princess
#Outlander#Jocasta Cameron#costumes#costume drama#costumesource#period drama#perioddramaedit#1700s#18th century#black#mourning#Fraser's Ridge#North Carolina#USA#North America#requests
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"I know that look on your face, Jamie Fraser. You're in love."
OUTLANDER 31 DAY CHALLENGE Day 6 : Favorite Setting/Location âł Fraser's Ridge, Colony of North Carolina
#*lizshit#outlander 31 day challenge#outlander#oledit#perioddramaedit#weloveperioddrama#cinemapix#usersource#usersteen#userteresa#tusergabriela#userthing#mediagifs#fraser's ridge
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Wednesday 100: S5 Series, cont.
Bree (5x06)Â
ââand a bowl of milk will be fine, but cream is better."
Bree crosses her arms, looking only half amused. "I think we can take care of your cat, Mama."
"Of course, darling. It's only that I've never left the poor thing alone before."
"He won't be alone, that's the point." Eyeing Claire cuddling Adso, she adds, "Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd say you love that thing more than me."
Jamie, who has been waiting on the porch, sticks his head in. "Dinna be daft, a leannan. O' course we love you and yer wee brother the same."
Murtagh (5x07)
He cannot truly feel his godson's hands, only sees the stricken movement â not a soldier's instincts or someone trained by a healer wife, but a child's impulse, desperate to keep the blood inside where it belongs, to keep hold on someone he loves.
He wishes he could stay, yet he cannot regret what brought him here, cannot regret the righteous fight and brotherhood, the foundations of freedom. Even far from home, he isn't dying for nothing. He is doing it for Jamie, instead of him, so it will be years until he knows himself that it doesn't hurt a bit.
Ian (5x08)
He had known that the Ridge would be changed â he has been gone too long and Uncle Jamie's plans had been too expansive for it not to have â and yet Ian had still imagined that same little cabin here. He had wanted it, in some ways, wanted to somehow find himself turning back into the boy he had been then: someone who had suffered, yes, but someone who could smile without effort, who could imagine his bright future ahead.
But now he is here, haunting that big house, no long husband, father, warrior, tribesman, seeing only hopeless darkness awaiting him.
Marsali (5x09)
"Dinna tell me ye don't have snakes in yer time," Daddy says to Ma, and Marsali hears but does not pause in her work, only thinks to herself Yer time? and So that's what it is about her, and decides to speak of it with Fergus later.
A bit of her does feel invisible just then, wondering if they hadn't considered her worthy of true explanation or even excuses â misspeaking or delirium. The rest, however, feels warmed all through by the thought that they consider her family now, trusting her with their secrets, knowing that she accepts them both unguarded.
Roger (5x09)
He is a minister's son. He knows the confessions of the dying are meant to be sacred. That his father-in-law still lives does not change that he spoke this in confidence, as a last resort.
And yet when Bree asks if there is something else, he does not recall his duty to the dying, but that to his wife. He has kept things from her before, telling himself that it was for her own good, and brought only suffering to them all. Heâs learned that lesson. He tells Brianna the hard truth.
He thinks Jamie Fraser wouldâwill understand that.
Jamie (5x11)
"We just finished the upstairs," he had told John, and it feels now as if he had spoken a curse upon them, that specter that has visited them more than once before, as they grew settled, as they came to believe that they would have a life of perfectly twined peace.
But Jamie Fraser decides no. They will not be haunted again. They will have that peace, their walls and neighbors firm around them.
He has burned the cross. He will burn the world to find his wife and bring her back whole to this home they have built together.
Fergus (post 5x12)
The nightmares only start a week after.
It makes Fergus feel foolish, that he could ride to rescue Milady, take lives doing it, that he could find Marsali, think she was dead and still hold and joke with her later, and now once everything is calm, the nightmares come.
It makes him feel foolish, that he dreams of himself, laughing with Milord while Marsali shouts for him until she is shoved into silence and Germain stands outside alone, waiting and waiting.
That's why his hand finds the bottle: so he won't feel foolish, guilty, helpless, won't feel anything at all.
Claire (S5)
She realizes one day, looking around the house, that she still doesn't own a vase. She realizes the next minute that it doesn't matter.
She has here her garden and her favorite berry patches in the woods, patients and people who greet her each day. She has the children who have become hers, and her grandchildren too. Her husband has given her two rings, a cat, seeds for cabbages and marigolds, a strong roof, a surgery built by his own hands, windows no matter how dear the price, and everything of himself besides.
She has the vase already, and more.
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2023 Best Christmas Lights in Metro Vancouver & the Fraser Valley
2023 Best Christmas Lights in Metro Vancouver & the Fraser Valley.
If youâre looking to make your festive season truly merry and bright, look no further than these locations where Christmas lights are the main attraction in Metro Vancouver & the Fraser Valley. With Metro Vancouverâs many trees, green spaces and natural setting, lighting up for the holidays is must-do. Stop by for a spectacular photo-op and even some pretty amazing light shows across theâŠ
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#Abbotsford#British Columbia#Burnaby#Christmas Lights#Coquitlam#Fraser Valley#Greater Vancouver#Happy Holidays#Happy New Year#Langley#Maple Ridge#Metro Vancouver#New Westminster#Pitt Meadows#Port Coquitlam#Port Moody#South Surrey#Surrey#Tri-Cities
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PIRATE WAR / FRASER'S RIDGE VERSES.
With the arrival of the notorious Captain Flint and Long John Silver to Shipwreck Cove, fresh from the fall of Nassau, comes a truth that, in the midst of raising a family, Jack had been turning a deliberately blind eye to: the end of the pirateâs life as he knows it. Cutler Beckett may have been long gone, but there are plenty of others eager to fill that void and take credit for eradicating piracy from the Caribbean, and Jack soon finds himself torn between the home he has created for himself and the self-preservation instinct he can trust to keep him and his family alive.
The Fraser's Ridge verse follows on from this, with Shipwreck Cove destroyed, and Flint and the crew of the Walrus vanished. Jack, Elizabeth and the other survivors of the battle retreat to Tortuga in the wake of their defeat in order to count their losses, but the reality of their situation is clear: high seas piracy is a lifestyle soon to become a thing of the past. Fortunately, the friendship that the family have forged with Jamie and Claire Fraser provides a refuge, and the Swann-Sparrow clan relocate to Fraser's Ridge, where they take on the name Davis and assimilate into civilised society as best they can. But the American Revolution is brewing in the colonies, and it's not long before Jamie's obligation to North Carolina's governor causes difficulties of its own for the two families.
These verses follow on from each other and are for the most part private verses with Jen ( hangtherules & mysticwrit ) to include a three-way crossover between POTC, Black Sails and Outlander. But I am also very open to expanding it to different interactions if people are interested! It assumes the end of the pirate's way of life and, most importantly, the destruction of Shipwreck Cove, and explores how Jack navigates a more 'civilised' way of life in the shadow of the growing American Revolution.
#*verses#&. verse. perfect paradise tearing at the seams ( pirate war. )#&. verse. civilisation has a number of faces ( fraserâs ridge. )#this verse is suuuuuuch a fave of mine
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Watching outlander, part hatewatching part genuine enjoyment
#frequently the storyline gets too over the top for my sour taste lol#oh no a horrible shipwreck!!! magically everyone survives and ends up together in america woohoooo#but family time at frasers ridge was extremely wholesome
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Wednesday 100: Thanksgiving Double Feature
Grateful
Claire was cleaning her instruments when she realized it was the fourth Thursday of November. She hadnât thought about Thanksgiving in quite some time; were they in the 1960s, she and Bree would have made a small meal to celebrate. Here and now, they had their whole family and Claire was more grateful than ever. So, she asked that Mrs. Bug and Lizzie go all out with dinner that day. She sent Ian on a turkey hunt, Marsali helped clean the bird while Fergus chased the children, and Bree and Roger were in charge of decorating the table with wildflowers. Â
***
Thankful
Claire told Jamie the tradition of Thanksgiving and as he sat at the head of their table, he knew exactly what he was thankful for. The room was loud â Marsali and Bree were sharing the latest Ridge gossip, Fergus and Ian were exchanging lewd jokes, and Roger was telling the children the story of the first Thanksgiving (save Germain who chose to partake in his Papaâs conversation instead). Jamie never took his eyes off Claire and her gaze held him in return. How long had they dreamed of this? Her eyes shone with satisfaction and he prayed they always would.
#outlander#jamie x claire#my fic#wednesday100#season 5 happy times on the ridge#season 5#fraser family feels
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||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 4 EPISODE 03 || THE FALSE BRIDE ||
#83daysofoutlanderâ
We climbed a granite ledge, thick with moss and lichen, wet with the omnipresent flow of water, then followed the path of a descending freshet, brushing aside long grass that pulled at our legs, dodging the drooping branches of mountain laurel and the thick-leaved rhododendrons. Wonders sprang up by my feet, small orchids and brilliant fungi, trembling and shiny as jellies, shimmering red and black on fallen tree trunks. Dragonflies hung over the water, jewels immobile in the air, vanishing in mist. I felt dazed with abundance, ravished by beauty. Jamieâs face bore the dream-stunned look of a man who knows himself sleeping, but does not wish to wake. Paradoxically, the better I felt, the worse I felt, too; desperately happyâand desperately afraid. This was his place, and surely he felt it as well as I. In early afternoon we stopped to rest and drink from a small spring at the edge of a natural clearing. The ground beneath the maple trees was covered with a thick carpet of dark green leaves, among which I caught a sudden telltale flash of red. âWild strawberries!â I said with delight. The berries were dark red and tiny, about the size of my thumb joint. By the standards of modern horticulture, they would have been too tart, nearly bitter, but eaten with a meal consisting of half-cooked cold bear meat and rock-hard corn dodgers, they were deliciousâfresh explosions of flavor in my mouth; pinpricks of sweetness on my tongue. I gathered handfuls in my cloak, not caring for stainsâwhat was a little strawberry juice among the stains of pine pitch, soot, leaf smudges and simple dirt? By the time I had finished, my fingers were sticky and pungent with juice, my stomach was comfortably full, and the inside of my mouth felt as though it had been sandpapered, from the tartly acid taste of the berries. Still, I couldnât resist reaching for just one more. Jamie leaned his back against a sycamore, eyelids half lowered against the dazzle of afternoon sun. The little clearing held light like a cup, still and limpid.
âWhat dâye think of this place, Sassenach?â he asked. âI think itâs beautiful. Donât you?â
He nodded, looking down between the trees, where a gentle slope full of wild hay and timothy fell away and rose again in a line of willows that fringed the distant river. âI am thinking,â Jamie said, a little awkwardly. âThere is the spring here in the wood. That meadow belowââ He waved a hand toward the scrim of alders that screened the ridge from the grassy slope. âIt would do for a few beasts at first, and then the land nearer the river might be cleared and put in crops. The rise of the land here is good for drainage. And here, see âŠâ Caught by visions, he rose to his feet, pointing. I looked carefully; to me, the place seemed little different from any of the steep wooded slopes and grassy coves through which we had wandered for the last couple of days. But to Jamie, with his farmerâs eye, houses and stock pens and fields sprang up like fairy mushrooms in the shadows of the trees. Happiness was sticking out all over him, like porcupine quills. My heart felt like lead in my chest. âYouâre thinking we might settle here, then? Take the Governorâs offer?â He looked at me, stopping abruptly in his speculations. âWe might,â he said. âIfââ He broke off and looked sideways at me. Sun-reddened as he was, I couldnât tell whether he was flushed with sun or shyness.
âDâye believe in signs at all, Sassenach?â
âWhat sorts of signs?â I asked guardedly. In answer, he bent, plucked a sprig from the ground, and dropped it into my handâthe dark green leaves like small round Chinese fans, a pure white flower on a slender stem, and on another a half-ripe berry, its shoulders pale with shade, blushing crimson at the tip.
âThis. Itâs ours, dâye see?â he said. âOurs?â âThe Frasersâ, I mean,â he explained. One large, blunt finger gently prodded the berry. âStrawberries haâ always been the emblem of the clanâitâs what the name meant, to start with, when a Monsieur FrĂ©seliĂšre came across from France wiâ King William that wasâand took hold of land in the Scottish mountains for his trouble.â
King William that was. William the Conqueror, that was. Perhaps not the oldest of the Highland clans, the Frasers had still a distinguished heritage. âWarriors from the start, were you?â âAnd farmers, too.â The doubt in his eyes was fading into a smile. I didnât say what I was thinking, but I knew well enough that the thought must lie in his mind as well. There was no more of clan Fraser save scattered fragments, those who had survived by flight, by stratagem or luck. The clans had been smashed at Culloden, their chieftains slaughtered in battle or murdered by law. Yet here he stood, tall and straight in his plaid, the dark steel of a Highland dirk by his side. Warrior and farmer both. And if the soil beneath his feet was not that of Scotland, it was free air that he breathedâand a mountain wind that stirred his hair, lifting copper strands to the summer sun. I smiled up at him, fighting back my growing dismay.
âFrĂ©seliĂšre, eh? Mr. Strawberry?
He grew them, did he, or was he only fond of eating them?â âEither or both,â he said dryly, âor it was maybe only that he was redheided, aye?â I laughed, and he hunkered down beside me, unpinning his plaid.
âItâs a rare plant,â he said, touching the sprig in my open hand. âFlowers, fruit and leaves all together at the one time. The white flowers are for honor, and red fruit for courageâand the green leaves are for constancy.â
My throat felt tight as I looked at him. âThey got that one right,â I said. He caught my hand in his own, squeezing my fingers around the tiny stem.
âAnd the fruit is the shape of a heart,â he said softly, and bent to kiss me.
The tears were near the surface; at least I had a good excuse for the one that oozed free. He dabbed it away, then stood up and pulled his belt loose, letting the plaid fall in folds around his feet. Then he stripped off shirt and breeks and smiled down at me, naked. âThereâs no one here,â he said. âNo one but us.â I would have said this seemed no reason, but I felt what it was he meant. We had been for days surrounded by vastness and threat, the wilderness no farther away than the pale circle of our fire. Yet here, we were alone together, part and parcel of the place, with no need in broad daylight to hold the wilderness at bay. âIn the old days, men would do this, to give fertility to the fields,â he said, giving me a hand to rise. âI donât see any fields.â And wasnât sure whether to hope I never would. Nonetheless, I skimmed off my buckskin shirt, and pulled loose the knot of my makeshift brassiere. He eyed me with appreciation. âWell, no doubt I shall have to cut down a few trees first, but that can wait, aye?â
We made a bed of plaid and cloaks, and lay down upon it naked, skin to skin among the yellow grasses and the scent of balsam and wild strawberries. We touched each other for what might have been a very long time or no time at all, together in the garden of earthly delight. I forced away the thoughts that had plagued me up the mountain, determined only to share his joy for as long as it lasted. I grasped him tight and he breathed in deep and pressed himself hard into my hand. âAnd what would Eden be without a serpent?â I murmured, fingers stroking. His eyes creased into blue triangles, so close I could see the black of his pupils. âAnd will ye eat wiâ me, then, mo chridhe? Of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil?â I put out the tip of my tongue and drew it along his lower lip in answer. He shivered under my fingers, though the air was warm and sweet. âJe suis prest,â I said. âMonsieur FrĂ©seliĂšre.â His head bent and his mouth fastened on my nipple, swollen as one of the tiny ripe berries. âMadame FrĂ©seliĂšre,â he whispered back. âJe suis Ă votre service.â And then we shared the fruit and flowers, and the green leaves covering all.
16 THE FIRST LAW OF THERMODYNAMICS
#outlander#the frasers#outlanderedit#outlander starz#outlander series#outlander fanart#jamie fraser#samheughan#jamie and claire#jamie&claire#dr claire randall#claire fraser#claire beauchamp#caitrionabalfe#outlander book#outlander books#outlander season 4#outlander 4x03
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (Iâm So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (Sheâs My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 15A: Dreams
Wilmington, North Carolina
Labor Day Weekend, 1988
I'm hung up on dreams I'll never see Help me baby, or this will surely be the end of meâŠ
 - Dreams, The Allman Brothers Band (1969) [click here to listen]
âIâll be upstairs in just a few minutes. Did you finish your reading?â
Ten-year-old William MacKenzie shook his head. âI was going to, but thatâs when Daddy arrived with Jamie and Claire â I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. And then it was time for dinner, and then - â
Gillian Duncan MacKenzie bent to kiss her sonâs forehead. âAll right then. Why donât you get yourself all caught up?â
Williamâs eyes darted over to Claire, seated across from his mother at the kitchen table, sipping sweet tea.
âJamie and I will be here all weekend,â she smiled. âYouâll have plenty of time to talk with him about music tomorrow.â
His face brightened. âOK! See you in the morning!â
Claire couldnât help but smile as William darted out of the room, footsteps quickly thudding on the stairs.
Gillian turned to face her guest. âHeâs so excited. Itâs not every day that a bona fide rock star is here in sleepy Wilmington.â
âThank you for asking him to not tell his friends at school. Iâm used to the attention now â â
Gillian raised an eyebrow skeptically. âAre you?â
Claire shrugged. âWell â no. I donât know if I ever will be. But one thing that wonât change is how much we value our privacy. So â thank you.â
âOf course, Claire. Privacy and discretion are what I do professionally â how could I not extend the same courtesy to you, when youâre a guest in my home?â
âStill. Thank you.â
A beat. Claire sipped the sweet tea Gillian had made â the same recipe sheâd grown to love, those months at The Ridge. Gillian gently pulled Claireâs left hand across the table, studying her rings.
âYou said this was his grandmotherâs engagement ring?â
Claire nodded. âHe inherited it when she died. His sister Jenny kept it for him, until he asked her for it. Called her the day he got home from The Ridge, and went to see her the next day. He gave it to me a few weeks later.â
âA man who knows what he wants.â
Claire smiled. âAnd Iâm a woman who knows what she wants.â
Gillian returned the smile, then focused on the wide band next to the engagement ring.
âI love how solid and simple your ring is. Silver?â
âPlatinum. His is the same. Wide enough for an inscription on the inside.â
âI do,â she had whispered. Smiling through the tears. Thinking he looked just a bit ridiculous in his suit. Sliding the band inscribed âForever My Loveâ across his knuckle.
âI do,â he had whispered. Eyes burning, full of awe. Agape at the simple gray dress she had chosen, his motherâs pearls around her throat. Sliding the band inscribed âForever My Heartâ onto her finger.
âI am so pleased toâŠâ Professor Quentin Lambert Beauchamp loudly blew his nose into a polka-dotted handkerchief. âExcuse me. I am so pleased to pronounce you husband and wife. Jamie, you may kiss your bride.â
He did. To the applause of the ten dear friends gathered in Joe and Gail Abernathyâs Boston backyard.
âThatâs beautiful.â Gillian lay her own left hand on the table, adorned only by a thin gold ring. âDougal never gave me an engagement ring, and he insisted I have the gold band for our marriage. His is silver. He had just sunk all of his money into building The Ridge, and we couldnât even afford flowers at the reception.â
âThatâs beautiful, too, Gillian. And I understand why you wouldnât want to upgrade. Because what you have now, is that much more meaningful.â
âI was sitting here, when Joe and Gail staged the intervention.â Jamie looked over at his wife â his wife!! â gazing up into the arbor behind the house. âThe vines were heavy with grapes. I remember thinking, how appropriate that Iâm looking at what could be wine.â
He pulled her closer against his side, and kissed the top of her head. Careful of the tortoiseshell combs that Jenny had so lovingly placed in Claireâs hair as she got ready this afternoon.
âIan confronted me in a hotel room inâŠSacramento, I think. I had been so wasted on stage the night before, slurring through half the songs. Jenny had come to see Ian, and she was so scared for me. She had already done the research, made a few phone calls. I puked the whole flight across country to North Carolina.â
âItâs always the ones we love who we hurt the most,â she murmured.
âIâm never going to hurt you, Claire. You know that, right?â
She turned to face her husband â her husband!! â and smiled. Reassuring.
âI do. And you know Iâm never going to hurt you, Jamie. Right?â
He nodded. Couldnât help but kiss her.
âAh!â
Dougal MacKenzie and Alec MacMahon turned the corner, and cheered. âHere you are! Come on â donât let us have all the fun without you. Canât miss your own wedding reception!â
Gillian nodded. âI donât need it. I have the life weâve built together, and our son, and a man who somehow thinks the sun rises and sets with me. Iâll never understand it.â
Claire swallowed.
Of course Gillian noticed.
âDonât ever doubt how much he loves you, Claire. Iâve seen you two together â youâre so natural with each other. Thatâs never going to change.â
She clenched her hand into a fist. Centering herself.
âItâsâŠitâs just soâŠintense, with him,â she whispered.
âWe donât have to tonight, Jamie. We have forever, now.â
His hands shook as his thumb softly, softly traced down her neck, across the pearls, and settled into the cleft between her breasts.
âI want to, Claire. I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. I justâŠâ
âDo you want to talk about it?â Gillian asked gently. âI can be your therapist, or I can be your friend. But I will listen.â
Claire took a deep, calming breath. âBeing on tour â I see now how he developed the addictions. Every aspect of it is so stressful. He feels so much pressure to lead his band, to write music, to live up to the fansâ expectations. And he has to deal with the label and the tour manager and the production guys, and do media, and somehow find time to eat and shower and sleep on top of all of that.â Her thumb twisted her wedding ring. âHeâd use the drugs to come up, and the alcohol to come down. And the women to just forget about everything for a while.â
âAre those groupies?â
Colum had organized a small gathering for the band and crew to celebrate the first show of the acoustic tour. No alcohol or drugs in the room â though Claire quickly learned that the rules by no means extended to hallways and bathrooms and storage rooms at the venue.
Jamie squeezed her hand, standing side by side in the corner, both of them holding a can of Tab.
âYeah. I can ask them to leave, if youâre feeling uncomfortable.â
âNo need.â She dropped his hand and quietly approached the four women giggling on the other side of the room.
âLadies. Iâm Claire Beauchamp. Iâm with him.â
She turned slightly, looked at Jamie over her shoulder, and then turned back to her audience.
âSo?â A girl wearing a strategically ripped Def Leppard t-shirt popped her gum. âThatâs not what I heard about the last time he was here.â
Claireâs eyes narrowed. âThat was then. This is now. I will say this only one time. If you even think about flashing a boob, or smiling at him, or trying to get him alone? I will end you.â
The girls gaped.
âTell all your friends here in Albuquerque, please. Are we clear?â
âAnd now, that youâre there with him?â
Claire smiled. âHeâs eating and sleeping a lot better. Has a lot more energy. He so desperately wants to do everything right. And Iâm not going to lie, Gillian â seeing him perform the songs he wrote for me at The Ridge, and then being there when he comes off stage, all keyed up from singing and playing the guitarâŠâ
âIt sounds like in many respects heâs replaced his additions with you.â
Claire looked up, meeting Gillianâ gaze. âOf course he has. The album and lead single will be called Sheâs My Addiction. Doesnât get any more obvious than that.â
âAnd how do you feel about that, Claire?â
She lay her hands flat on the table. âIâve never felt moreâŠloved, and cherished, than when Iâm with Jamie.â
She frowned and opened her eyes when he stopped brushing her hair, one morning in Minneapolis.
âWhat â â
The pads of his fingers swept the left side of her neck, still a bit tender from his kisses after last nightâs show. âI bruised you. Iâm sorry.â
âHmm. Iâm not.â
She swallowed. âBut itâs so, so hard sometimes. He loves me for who I am, but I donât want to do anything to fuck it up. And he stresses over so much that he doesnât have to. Gillian, heâs been having panic attacks all tour.â
âMy God. Is he seeing anyone to help with that?â
Claire sighed. âYouâre looking at her. Thank God I did that psych rotation when I was in med school. Iâve helped him recognize the signs, and he knows enough to tell me when itâs happening so that we can get away and I can help him through it. But Iâm not a psychiatrist. I canât be everything he needs. He has to do a lot of work to explore whatâs triggering him, so that he can manage that. Because after we take the break at the end of the year, weâll be on the road for most of â89. The label has booked more than a hundred shows.â
âAnd youâll be with him?â
âOf course. Heâs the air I breathe. I know this sounds insane, but we want to try for a baby next year. That way he can be off the road, off touring, to be with me if the timing lines up.â She sighed. âSo Iâve talked to him about bringing a therapist with us on tour. He needs to have that kind of support from someone other than me. Especially when weâre in Europe and heâs playing soccer stadiums and dealing with a next level of bullshit.â
âDo you want some recommendations? Between Dougal and I, we can definitely help you find someone.â
Claire smiled thinly. âThat would be wonderful. It has to be someone we both trust. Who can deal with all the craziness.â
Gillian nodded. âConsider it our wedding gift to you. I â we â really want to help you. You know this, Claire â getting sober is hard, but staying sober is so, so much harder. It does and doesnât get easier with time. Dougal would say the same thing.â
âDo you ever miss it?â
She settled her chin into his shoulder, nestled securely in his lap. Together they watched the cornfields of Iowa glide by, thousands of feet below.
âNo. Not really. The pills helped me deaden the pain. And my life doesnât have that kind of pain at all, now.â
The private plane had four clusters of four seats, two seats on each side facing each other with a table in between. Jamie and Claire always had a cluster to themselves. Ian, his bass tech, Jamieâs guitar tech Arch, and Angusâ drum tech always sat together. Colum kept to himself. Leaving Angus in the final cluster â which he shared with the two groupies heâd been surprisingly faithful to since Albuquerque. He hated flying, but the girls certainly made it easier for him â plying him with snacks, rubbing his back, squeezing him between them in the big seat.
Claire turned slightly, and inhaled at his temple. Kissed his earlobe as he shivered. âI know you miss it, Jamie. And itâs OK.â
His grip tightened on her hip. âYou taste so much better,â he whispered. Eyes far away.
Claire wiped the corners of her eyes. âI just love him, Gillian. So fucking much.â She took a deep breath. âIâm so proud of him, for everything heâs done, and for the man heâs worked so hard to become. Iâm not going to lie â sometimes itâs so damn hard to deal with everything. With all of his past shit, and how he still lets it mess with his head. It doesnât matter how many times Iâve told him that none of it bothers me. Not the drugs, or the alcohol, or the destroyed hotel rooms, or what is probably hundreds of women. I canât let any of that bother me, because thatâs not the Jamie I know. But GillianâŠâ
Gillian reached across the table and took Claireâs hand.
âHe makes everything so fucking hard sometimes. He starts to spiral, and he worries that Iâll have had enough and walk away. But then we just take a deep breath, and we look at each other, and all the bullshit is gone, and itâs just so easy again.â
âYou need a day off!â
Jamie rubbed his hands over his face, exasperated. âI do have a day off tomorrow, Claire. You know as well as I do that there isnât a show.â
She huffed, hands on her hips. âNot the point, Jamie. I saw the call sheet for tomorrow. Youâre meeting with the label, and then with Colum to talk to the merch guy, and then the lighting team, and then youâre doing some local radio spots. Thatâs NOT a day off!â
He shrugged. âAt least we can get dinner together and it wonât be shitty venue food.â
She pursed her lips, trying so hard not to scream. âDo you not remember the panic attack last night? You were sobbing in my arms, Jamie. It was really, really bad. And then you were so exhausted, but you wanted to be a hero and do the show anyway, and then you tripped over your fucking amp when you went on stage and could have broken your arm. Where would that leave us, hmm?â
He reached out to her â and she stepped back.
Not done with him yet.Â
âYou need rest, Jamie. Your body is going to shut down. And that wonât be good for anybody.â
âIs that your medical opinion, Dr. Beauchamp?â
A hint of a smile. Good.
âYes. Iâm your personal physician. Iâm prescribing a day in bed, sleeping.â
He smirked. âOK. But only if youâre in it, too.â
She shrugged. âIâm not making any sense.â
âYes you are,â Gillian smiled. âYou said itâs intense between you â thereâs no way it couldnât be. Set aside his being a musician, and being in just about the biggest band in the world right now. Think about how and when you met. What had happened to both of you beforehand. All the changes youâve made in both of your lives, in a relatively short timeframe. Itâs overwhelming. And being on the road with him this summer had to have just upped that intensity.â
âWeâre together non-stop. Which has been great, because we have so much time. We have what nobody else has, and I treasure that, I really do. But itâs also exhausting sometimes.â Claire paused, considering. âNobody else knows what Iâm about to tell you, but itâs another factor. WeâŠwe didnâtâŠâ She closed her eyes. âWe waited until our wedding night.â
Gillianâs silence was a gift.
âWe were both so scared. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I think we were worried thatâŠthat it wouldnât be good, for some reason. And it was good, Gillian. So fucking good. We both cried.â
âYouâre everything.â He kissed her nose and cheeks and forehead and mouth over and over and over again, his tears mixing with hers. âMy heart is going to burst.â
She hugged him tighter, nails digging into the flames tattooed on his shoulders. âLove you,â she whispered, breathless. âLove you love you love you love youâŠâ
âI donât need to tell you this, Claire, but I will anyway. Itâs been a really good decision to spend so much time together, to really get to know each other, before you were married. Both of you deliberately wanted your relationship to be different from anything youâd known or done before. And now that last barrier is gone between you. So everything has changed, am I right?â
Indianapolis. Married one week. He couldnât stop smiling at her, standing side stage during the show. She couldnât stop giggling when he found her after the encore, threw her over his shoulder, and ran to his dressing room. His breath hot against her lips, breathlessly pleading for her to stay quiet, as they loved each other on the sofa and the techs and roadies and catering people and production staff bustled by the locked door.
âIt has, Gillian. But in many ways it hasnât. It feels like yesterday, and it feels like forever.â
New Haven. Married two weeks. The morning after a powerhouse show at the Coliseum. A penthouse suite overlooking the water. She had slipped out of bed in the dark, opened the curtains wide. Watched him watch her as she returned to bed. Held his gaze as they loved each other, dawn breaking over their faces.
âI get that. Youâve introduced another layer to your relationship. Probably the most complex layer that there is.â
Providence. Married two weeks and two days. Holding each other in a bath, Jamieâs hand splayed across her belly, Claireâs nose buried in the curtain of his hair.
âSo, be patient with yourself, Claire. Cut yourself a break.â Gillian reached across the table to squeeze her hand. âAnd just enjoy yourself! My God â what an incredible life you have.â
Claireâs smile was the widest Gillian had ever seen.
âHoly shit. I married a rock star.â
âI heard that!â
And then Jamie was there, smiling, and kissing Claireâs smile.
Dougal hung back in the doorway. Exchanging smiles with his own wife.
âCome on, rock star. You said youâd help me hook up the new CD player.â
Jamie pulled back. Rubbed his nose against Claireâs.
âHey, Dougal?â
Dougal crossed his arms. âWhat?â
Jamie stood. Squeezed Claireâs hands. Kissed her wedding ring.
âLove is a much better high than any drug.â
Dougal rolled his eyes. âIâll put that on the new pamphlets weâre printing up for The Ridge. But the stereo wonât install itself. Help out, and Iâll even let you play that new stuff you brought.â
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