Sorry this is so long but ya'll asked for more.
Where There's Smoke, Chapter 2
February 16, 1992 - 5:30 am
After unsuccessfully attempting to silence her alarm several times, Whitney finally pushed it completely off of the nightstand. It came unplugged during the fall, and the ensuing silence was blissful. She yawned and sat up slowly, muttering "Why does call have to be so ****in'
early? Sun's not even up yet."
She took a hot shower and made a pot of coffee, still yawning but feeling slightly more human after the first hot mug full. The sun was just beginning to rise, and she was due in the makeup trailer in 15 minutes.
They were in Oregon this week, filming the scenes taking place in and around Frank's dad's cabin. Whitney had had all day yesterday to rest as they shot only the scenes involving Nicki, Frank, and the gunman. She'd been grateful for the time off and had driven out to the coast, spending some time on the beach. The temperatures were arctic, but she'd bundled up and enjoyed the time alone with her thoughts, watching the waves crash.
It had now been two days since she and Kevin had shared kisses on her trailer porch. She hadn't seen him since then, but had been preoccupied thinking about it during most of her day off. She alternated between wanting to tell Bobby the truth and never wanting him to find out; between regretting it terribly and grinning over it like a teenager. Her mind was a confused mess.
By the time she'd returned to her trailer last night, she didn't feel any more rested, nor any better about the situation with Kevin. The only conclusion she'd come to is that she somehow had feelings for both he
and Bobby. She used to envy the girls in high school who had two boys to choose from; turns out it really wasn't all that much fun after all.
She'd somehow managed to not admit that she liked Kevin until this point, not even to herself. During his "courting" of her for this role, the screen test, the read-throughs, and even the filming thus far, she hadn't thought about him as more than a colleague. Yet more had been there from the beginning, brewing underneath. It was so
obvious to her now. And now that his feelings were out, hers were waiting at the gate, ready for their turn to run.
Whitney pulled her hair back from her face with a headband, put on her coat and gloves, grabbed her script, and stepped out into the winter morning. The cold air felt surprisingly good in her lungs, and the view of the smooth lake was gorgeous. She began to hum softly, still admiring the lake, lost in her thoughts again.
Suddenly, she felt something bounce off her right arm, and she jumped, shaken from her jumbled mind. A snowball. She glanced over and saw Kevin packing another one, grinning. Whitney couldn't take her eyes off his sweet smile, and managed to smile back in return.
"Heya," he called, jogging to meet her.
"Morning."
"Did you have a good day off?" The two were now walking in step.
"I did. Peaceful." She was being shorter than usual with him; not rude, just quieter, and he seemed to sense it.
"Everything okay, Whitney?" Kevin stopped, turning to face her. She looked up, completely lost in his green eyes for a second or two.
"I wanted to apologize," he continued softly when she didn't answer, "for the other night. I was out of line, and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I know you have enough stress with the movie to not have to worry about--"
He stopped speaking as one of the makeup artists opened the trailer door, just a few yards from them. "Hey guys!" she yelled. "Let's get going; everyone's already asking for you."
Kevin and Whitney exchanged a 'we'll finish this conversation later' smile, and went inside.
**********
February 16, 1992 - 6:30 pm
Whitney was back in her trailer after a successful day of filming. They'd shot most of the rest of the cabin scenes, and it looked as though they'd be wrapping in Oregon and returning to Los Angeles in just a few days to start on the rest of the film.
The television was on in the corner, turned to the evening news. Her script was in her lap, open to the next scene she had to learn, but her mind wouldn't focus on the words. She really needed to call Kevin to get him to run lines with her, but she was unsure where they stood at the moment. They had not gotten any time alone to talk since before filming that morning.
Whitney's mind drifted to all of the other times he'd come over; most nights, in fact, since filming began. They would eat popcorn or chips, run lines for a bit, then they would always segway into talking and laughing. Conversation was easy with Kevin; they had more in common than anyone would think. They shared tales of church, school, songwriting, even tidbits of how fame can suck the life out of you. He'd become one of the few people in her life that she could really be herself with, and her trailer honestly felt lonely without him in it. She sighed, looking back down at the words on the page and trying to concentrate.
A loud female reporter on TV snapped her out of her thoughts. "After the break, we'll have an exclusive with Kevin Costner about what it's like working with pop singer Whitney Houston in her first acting role."
Pushing the script off of her lap, Whitney scrambled for the remote and turned the TV up. After a couple of minutes a different female reporter appeared on screen, sitting in an outdoor chair beside Kevin, the lake in the background. Whitney suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach.
"I'm here with Kevin Costner, on location for the filming of The Bodyguard. Tell me, Kevin... we all live in Los Angeles, where it's always 70 degrees. Why are we in Oregon, where it's a balmy 35?" The reporter laughed at her own sarcasm.
Whitney watched as Kevin and the reporter went back and forth for a few lines about the weather and other general pleasantries. Then she got down to business. "So tell me, honestly, how is Whitney's acting?"
His face seemed to light up as he grinned, absentmindedly running his hands across his lap. "She's great. You'd be surprised. Whitney has a lot of natural acting talent, and when she's unsure of something, she takes my -- she takes our suggestions really well. She's a true pro."
The screen cut to a shot of Kevin and Whitney filming the restaurant scene, laughing. His arm was around her waist. Whitney stared, unblinking, at the screen; at herself and Kevin, looking cozy. It cut back to the reporter.
"Awww, you guys really come across as a good screen couple here. You both look great!"
"Thank you. Yeah, Whitney-- well, she's, obviously she's beautiful. I think anyone could-- I think all of America will fall in love with her when the movie comes out." Kevin smiled.
Whitney swallowed, turning off the television, heart beating a little faster than usual. Before she could talk herself out of it, she threw on a coat and quickly walked the short distance to Kevin's trailer, her breath visible in the cold evening.
She raised her hand tentatively to knock on the door, pulled it back for a second, then put it back up. Three short knocks, and he answered almost immediately, but only opened the door a few inches.
"Oh! Hey, Whitney." He seemed nervous, not smiling.
"Hi, Kev." She shyly looked up at him. "I was hoping we could chat for a second. Is that okay?"
"
Oh my God is that her?" a female voice shrieked behind him. He averted his eyes, opening the door wider to reveal his wife, Cindy, and three young kids. "It is! Hi! Come on in! We were just talking about you and I'm such a big fan! I was really hoping to get to meet you!," Cindy gushed.
Whitney had to hand it to her; she seemed genuinely unconcerned about even a remote possibility of anything happening between she and Kevin. The kids were adorable, playing a game of Candy Land in the floor, on the worn carpet.
A few minutes went by, with Whitney being polite enough. She signed an autograph and posed for a couple of photos with Cindy, which Kevin awkwardly took. She then made polite excuses about having to get up early and bailed back to her own trailer, feeling even more confused about things, if that was possible. In light of recent events, she'd assumed that the marriage was at least on the rocks, and it sure didn't appear that way.