After the Dance: My Life With Marvin Gaye by Jan Gaye

and peaceful. Nothing could go wrong.
    And then everything did.
    I thought it was the result of being too sexually active. Turned on about being parents, Marvin and I had intense, athletic lovemaking sessions. With Let’s Get It On playing in the background, we tried to get as close to each other as was physically possible.
    It was only days later when I began hemorrhaging. The blood was sudden and startling. I called my mother, then Marvin, then the doctor. Marvin met me at the hospital, where the doctor used the one word I did not want to hear: miscarriage .
    The impact on both of us was enormous. We felt a great sense of loss.
    “Dear,” said Marvin, “these things happen. God gives and God takes away. We praise him for his goodness and trust that next time he will bless us with a healthy boy. I have no doubt, darling, that there will be a next time.”
    I wished he wouldn’t have restated his insistence on having a boy, but no matter—I was greatly relieved that he was comforting and loving and still committed to our relationship. As crazy as it might sound, I was afraid of disappointing him. I even feared that the miscarriage might chase him away. Fears of losing Marvin—fears of being undermined by those around him, fears of being banished from his world—were never far from my consciousness.
    For years to come, love and fear shared the same chambers of my heart.
    On certain nights the anxiety subsided. On one such night, the moon was full and the world was at peace. Marvin and I were driving up Highway 1 past Malibu. In the backseat were the actor Richard Lawson and his future wife Denise Gordy, the niece of Berry and Anna.
    There seemed to be no hidden tension. Marvin and I had socialized with Richard and Denise before. We all got along splendidly. We loved to get high and laugh like little kids. The weed we had been smoking intensified the happy mood. The stars glittered. Moonlight danced off the Pacific. The ocean breeze was cool and refreshing. The universe was a friendly place. On the way up the coast, switching radio stations, we heard “Let’s Get It On” three different times. The song was soaring up the charts. Marvin couldn’t have been more delighted.
    A few miles north of Malibu at Trancas Beach, the car sputtered to a halt. Without losing his customary cool, Marvin announced, “I’m afraid we’ve exhausted all our resources.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “No gas,” said Marvin.
    “No problem,” said Richard. “The men will go get gas while the women wait behind.”
    Marvin and Richard were gone for a good hour. When they returned, they were empty-handed.
    “The gas station was closed,” said Richard.
    “But all is not lost,” Marvin added. “Our resources are, in fact, not completely exhausted.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a joint. Denise and I applauded. Smoking added to the wild and woozy nature of the night.
    “What now?” Richard asked Marvin.
    “Now we explore,” said Marvin. “Look at that beach!”
    Not concerned about a thing, Marvin was the first to throw off his shoes and step onto the sand. Denise followed by removing her top. I was a little hesitant.
    “What about you, Jan?” asked Marvin. “Surely you have nothing to hide. Reveal yourself, dear. Reveal yourself proudly.”
    For a second, I flashed on that awful day in Bel Air when, at age fourteen, my mother had allowed me to strip for Luke and Big Jack. But that was different. Those guys were creeps. Marvin was my man. He was proud that I had perfect breasts. I exposed them.
    As we all made our way down the beach, Richard, not to be outdone by the women, decided to remove his pants. It took Marvin less than a minute to do the same. Our ridiculousness only added to our pleasure. Where were we going? We didn’t know, didn’t care. We cavorted as though we didn’t have a concern in the world.
    Not fifteen minutes passed before we saw a woman coming in our direction. Marvin and