GobSmacked82

Well shippers, I apologize if this one runs on a bit long. I had the idea for the second part in the back of my mind for some time, but never got around to writing it, because I couldn't think of a strong lead in. Until now. There is a nice cameo for you Raven03, which I hope you'll like. Enjoy, all. And yes, I'll take my time on the next one.


Back inside Harpo Studios, in Chicago ...

A clip from Whitney's new movie, "Big Girls Don't Cry" plays as an intro to the next segment. Whitney and Kevin are no longer being circumspect. Kevin is sitting right next to Whitney with his left arm around her, she is leaning comfortably on him, and he's resting his other hand on her right arm. They had been casually affectionate during the break, and Whitney reluctantly snapped to attention as Oprah resumes the program.

Oprah: OK, we're back. We're talking with Whitney Houston; she’s been filling us in on her upcoming film, coming off of two successful albums, AND, and the big news about her new boyfriend Kevin.

Whitney fidgets a little, but still looks comfortable, as she smiles pleasantly at Oprah. Then she shakes her head and laughs, covering her mouth.

Oprah: You know I have to say that we haven't seen you laugh like that in over 10 years, Whitney. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say we miss that big, heartfelt Nippy laugh we used to see in the early days. (the audience cheers) So speaking of the two of you, I just want to clear up this ink stain mystery. I noticed that none of the other photos from that particular shoot have the ink blot in that area of the camera. (the audience ooohs and giggles. Oprah flashes her grin and sits up in her chair.)

Kevin: Well, actually, you're right about that. And I'm actually surprised that that photo got out. That photo was not supposed to ... well, I mean ... this is the kind of thing I don't tell 15 million viewers or however many you get, Oprah.

Oprah: Those are nice viewership numbers, thanks! I need a raise. (the audience laughs)

Kevin: The thing is, I remember the day before that. Whitney had had a hard time with a visitor. Trailer walls aren't made of concrete, so, she came out and her guest stormed away. I mean, it was hard on her. She was being a real trooper for the rest of the day shooting, but I think during the garden scene or something ...

Oprah: Oh, we all remember that one. My niece was mad for a week that MTV didn't nominate it for Hottest Kiss.

Kevin: (laughing pleasantly) Oh yeah? Well ... well, yeah that was a kiss. And (the audience erupts into giggles, and he hold his finger up to his mouth to finish his story) so I think Whitney was pushed particularly hard that day, not to upset her, because I wouldn't have allowed that. But it was the one time where I left her to everybody else and they told her to go in that direction.

Oprah: So she was taking direction.

Kevin: Yeah, they don't just let you do love scenes all ad lib. And it was really my fault for not making it clear that she didn't need to do that.

Whitney, meanwhile is taking deep breaths and glancing up at the ceiling. She fiddles with a small gold cross hanging from a gold chain around her neck.

Kevin: We had been shooting almost all day, after a 4:45 a.m. set call. So from sun up until after dark, she was getting orders from the director, the director's assistant, the grip, the gaffe, the ... everybody was pulling her here and there. Even I was tired and a little absent minded.

Oprah: What did the makeup people say the next day? Did anyone else see it?

Kevin: Well, one of the art guys pulled me aside after he saw the first set of pictures come back. And ... it's weird you know, how you never know who's the quick thinker in a pinch. But he kind of Photo Shopped it out of the shots we used. Then I had to go to my makeup lady, who said something about being an expert keeping her teenage daughter out of hot water about these things. (the audience is giggling again) It was a little embarrassing, really, 'cause she was ... I mean, she was telling me all these stories while she opened up all these pots of makeup to mix the right shade. (Kevin laughs bashfully, and runs his hand over his face.) And that's why you probably don't see that ... um, that ... mistake, that ...

Oprah: Ink stain ...

Kevin: Yeah. It was my fault. I should have given Whitney better advice, but I guess I let her down that day. But she's never disappointed me.

(the audience coos and swoons a little at his sweet words for a few minutes)

Oprah: OK, we'll leave it there, because I think Kevin is about to lose 3 pounds of sweat. (audience laughs again, some clapping)

Kevin: Yeah, but you know what, Oprah? I enjoyed being here, talking about Whitney. The Bodyguard's still a great movie, because it's basic boy-girl stuff, and in my mind she was absolutely the perfect choice.

Oprah: Thank you, Mr. Costner! And before we let you go, Whitney, can you clue us in on what's next?

Whitney: Well, we'll be in L.A., you know, for the holidays. We'll spend Thanksgiving out there this year. Krissy and my mom and Dionne are coming out, so it should be good.

Oprah: (turns to the audience and waves her arms) OK, before everyone goes, you didn't think we'd assemble three old-fashioned movie lovers and not leave you with anything, right? So go ahead and check under your chairs.

Oprah smiles as the audience chatters and each begins pulling a large envelope off of the seat. Then Oprah points to one woman.

Oprah: OK, miss. Tell us your name and what's inside.

Audience member: OK, hi Oprah! I'm from down south and my friends call me Raven.

Oprah: OK, Raven. Well come on, open it! We're dying of suspense!

Kevin: Raven, I like that. It actually sounds like an action movie character's name. (Whitney nods and laughs, looking on.)

Raven: It's ... a 10th Anniversary Edition of The Bodyguard on DVD! And ... it's the director's cut with deleted scenes! (the audience chatters and applauds)

Oprah: And? Come on!

Raven: And there's ... tickets to the premiere of "Big Girls Don't Cry!" (everyone ooohs and cheers)

Oprah: In?

Raven: In L.A.!! What?! We're going to L.A. for a movie premiere!

Oprah: That's right! We're flying American Airlines to L.A. when the “Big Girls Don’t Cry” premieres there the Friday after Christmas, and we've landed a block of seats in the theater! YES! Thank you Paramount! (while Oprah tries to close the show, the audience is in full-throttle frenzy) We’re heading to Movieland for movie night! I want to thank our sponsors for the gift, also Whitney here and Kevin for spending such a great time with us. We've had a great time catching up, and wish you two, ALL the best!


About 40 minutes after taping has ended and Whitney and Kevin have given Oprah their personal good-byes, they are standing in the vestibule of Harpo Studios waiting for a valet to bring their car around. Whitney pulls her fur coat closer around her and Kevin finishes putting on his bomber jacket. Then Whitney turns to Kevin, running a hand through her hair and smiles.

“What is that for?” Kevin steps closer to her, his arm finding its natural groove around her waist.

“She was taking direction,” Whitney giggled. “And for a second I almost believed you myself!”

“Well, would you have preferred I tell them what really happened that day?”

“Oh nooo,” Whitney shakes her head. “I was pretty weak to you that day, and it took me almost a week of praying to get over what we did.”

Kevin flashed a brief wolfish smile, and nods. Then he settled his face into something far more charming.

"OK, then," he says. "That one goes into the vault."

Weeks after taping, the episode has aired on Black Friday, 2002.

Monday after Thanksgiving, 2002
Hollywood Hills, Calif.

Kevin and Whitney are in his Porsche, with him behind the wheel, trying to get through a crush of reporters swarming the car. They inch forward, cameras flashing relentlessly, until they get through the gates of his house.

Whitney takes a few deep breaths and squeezes Kevin’s hand as he guides the car through the gates of his property. She rolls her eyes at the throng of paparazzi, half regretting her decision to tell Oprah that she and Kevin are dating. Once inside the house, Whitney removes her cap and shakes out her hair. Then she marches into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge, searching for a bottle of water.

While she throws a few cubes of ice into the glass, a flash of light catches her eyes and forces her to look up through the window over the sink. Beyond the farthest back hedges, she sees a figure with a powerful-looking long-range lens trained on her. Whitney whisks the curtains shut and shakes her head. She presses her palms to her temples, muttering and trying to shut that image out.

“What’s going on?” a strong arm slides around her waist, startling her. She laughs lightly and looks up at Kevin.

“They’re camping out in the bushes waaay over there,” Whitney says, pouring the water over the ice cubes and shaking her head. “I don’t get it. I’m a divorced woman in my late 30s. Why are they being up my @ss about it?”

“Well, you’re not exactly any other divorced woman in her 30s, Whitney, and I’m not just another bachelor,” Kevin shrugs and shakes his head. “Plus, I think this initial intensity will pass soon enough, and when it settled down, we’ll figure out a new rythm.” He reaches for the curtains and parts them a little with two of his fingers. “That’s a pretty good lens. I think that guy is actually sitting in the Inland Empire with that thing.”

Whitney throws her head back a groans, immediately craving the relative privacy of the last year. She had made a big push to overcome her substance abuse issues, so she could get on with a life without her first husband, being a happy mother for Krissy, and giving Kevin more of the time he deserved. Kevin starts to rub Whitney’s neck when their shared assistant, an elegant 40-something woman, shows up with a binder in her arm.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Houston, Mr. Costner. I want to update you on what's come in the mail,” she says.

They follow her to Kevin's spacious home office, where they assemble around a small round table. The assistant opens the binder, explaining that she opened the mail and put the letters in the protective sleeves, but did not read them.

“There are two and a half dozen letters addressed to either you or Mr. Costner or both,” she starts. “And there is another stack that we still have to open.”

“Wow. From who, and about …”

“The announcement on Oprah, yes,” Mrs. Washington says. Then Mrs. Washington points to a table, stacked with several mid-sized boxes.

Whitney is slightly taken aback.

“This is … something else,” Whitney says, trying to wrap her head around what’s going on.

“So Mrs. Washington,” Kevin starts. “People have been sending us mail and … gifts since she show aired?”

The woman nods, and even smiles a little glancing at Whitney.

“Thank you, Ms. Washington. We'll be OK for the rest of the evening,” Whitney says, flipping through all the pages of the binder. Whitney turns to the first letter.

“Oh my G--! Look who wrote this one,” Whitney says. She flags Kevin down and points to the return address.

“That’s crazy. A former president,” Kevin smiles. “I think I really traded up, here!”

Whitney herself is impressed, and she starts reading the letter aloud:

“My dear daughter. For years and years I waited to see you stand next to someone who is more … your equal. I was beginning to worry that I would leave this world before seeing you so appropriately settled. Without impugning your, well, previous choice, I will say that my fears were unfounded, my prayers have finally been answered, and I wish you happiness from myself and my family. They first told me about the news and are overjoyed, and they insisted I write my congratulations to you. I said: 'What for? It's not a wedding.' But they pointed out that this is the way it should be.”

Whitney flips through more of the letters and finds notes from directors, old friends back in New Jersey, respected clergy known worldwide, and CEOs.

“Oh, look. This was is from Trump. He was at the wedding, you know!”

“Him too?”

“Yeah, you missed it,” Whitney says. “It was quite a party. Anyway, here’s what he says.

Whitney imitates the Don, waving her hands around with bombastic affectations:

“Why didn’t you ask me to borrow my jet to get away from that first guy? You think I enjoyed hearing about your escape from Alcatraz from my secretary’s nephew? And you know what? Technically, since you made it past five years, I owe you a Bentley. Let me know where I should send it. I’m not sure about this new boyfriend you’ve got, though.”

“What did he say?”

“Hold on!” Whitney holds up a hand. “He says,"

"These Hollywood types are sometimes just plain weird. If he gives you any problems, let me know and I’ll fix him. And don’t wait eight years this time. I can’t afford to have my girl cry twice. Call me, cute face!’”

Whitney and Kevin continue to go through the letters, each one basically pouring out the congratulations as if they’ve actually gotten married. After 30 minutes of reading notes, they shut the binder and head for the table. None of the boxes are wrapped like presents, but it’s like they’re opening engagement party gifts.

“This is unbelievable. Hand-dipped chocolate strawberries from George Steinbrenner,” Kevin says. “How do you know him?? Man, my girlfriend is connected!”

Whitney opens a bottle of Dom Perignon.

“Who sent us that?”

“Um, the card says it’s from …,” Whitney gasps. “Oh, he’s so sweet!”

Kevin takes the card out of her hand and nods knowingly.

“Well, it figures Mr. Fayed would send you champagne,” Kevin says. “You’ve spent enough money in Harrod’s to buy him a fleet of yachts.”

Whitney and Kevin laugh out loud as they go through the boxes and even re-read a few notes. After an hour, Whitney is curled up with Kevin on the couch in his office and flashing an exotic cocktail ring.

“Now this is an interesting congratulatory present,” Whitney says. “I bet it’s because he wants me to commit to tour dates for the arena he wants to build in Newark. As incentive.”

“Well, it is your hometown,” Kevin says. “It would be nice of you to stop by sometime.”

Whitney laughs and nods, playing with the ring.

“Are you jealous? Of other guys giving me jewelry and champagne and exotic cars and stuff?” Whitney pushes herself up on her arms and smiles at Kevin.

“Not a chance,” he says, pulling her back and holding her close, within kissing distance. “I’ve got the prize gem right here.”