Sedgwick came back to New York ready to spend quality time with Bacon. They’ve had good luck with scheduling over the years: They don’t often work at the same time, they try not to spend more than three weeks apart, and for the past few years, Bacon has been able to fit his schedule around hers. But two weeks after Sedgwick got home from finishing up on The Closer, he landed The Following, a TV series of his own created by writer-producer Kevin Williamson (Dawson’s Creek) for Fox. “There’s part of me that thinks, Are we going to be in our seventies before we all of a sudden look at each other and go, ‘Oh, hi’ ?” Sedgwick says. “Obviously that’s part of what makes it exciting. You don’t get bored; it has a certain spark to it. And, of course, I’m ready for him to work. He loves to work. We both do better when we’re working.
“But sometimes it feels so different than what other people have,” she admits. “Every now and then I’ll be like, ‘I’m having a hard day,’ and I realize, I’m lonely! I miss my husband, who’s working far away. My other half is not here to help carry me through. I’m ready to be home with him for the third or fourth night in a row. Really being boring for a change, sitting around doing nothing.”
The couple met while making the 1988 TV movie Lemon Sky. Already famous, he was immediately smitten. She thought he was a tad full of himself. Every day for the first week, Bacon asked the cast out to dinner, hoping she’d come along. Every night she declined, leaving him stuck with a crowd as well as the tab. Then one day on the set, he suggested she have a massage at his hotel—and he just happened to be there when she finished.
“He’s there dabbing his forehead, like, ‘Whoo, just got off the StairMaster—want to go get a bite?’ ” Sedgwick says, laughing. “He took me to this expensive restaurant. He remembers so vividly that I opened the menu and said, ‘Jeez, these prices are outrageous!’ He thought that was fantastic.” She woke up the morning after their second date with a deep sense of home in her chest. She’d never felt that before, not even as a child. “I got to work that day and saw him and thought, Oh my God, it’s you! I’ve always felt that way about him.”
She rattles off some of her spouse’s charming attributes: He’s always cheery in the morning, always. He invents nicknames for her; his latest, Princess Kikonoki, makes her collapse in giggles. He’s the more practical one; she’s more emotional. If she’s telling him her troubles and he responds, “Here’s the thing,” she always sits up and thinks, OK, I’m going to hear something that’s going to be helpful! What’s the thing? Though the couple have had their struggles, “there was never a moment of, I might leave, or he might leave,” Sedgwick says. Then her eyes go soft. “Remember in The Philadelphia Story, when Hepburn says about her honeymoon boat, ‘My, she was yar . . . fast, bright, everything a boat should be.’ ” I nod. “My, he’s yar,” she purrs.
As for other men, she swears she’s never been tempted—“to the point where I wonder if there’s something wrong with me in that area,” she says. “I give off a vibe of ‘I’m so not available.’ Sometimes I even think that stands in my way.” With studio heads or executives, she suggests, “sometimes I feel I should flirt more.”
Kyra started acting at 16, on the soap opera Another World, and moved to L.A. at 19. Her manager, who then represented many of the Brat Packers, urged her to go to parties and get herself noticed, but that wasn’t her style. “Looking back, I wish I’d done that scene a little,” Sedgwick says. “I was single for such a short time. Being a married person with kids in your twenties, when you’re supposed to be super sexy—it’s a man’s business. Just them thinking I was a possibility probably would have been a good thing for me. Even now. But I’m not good at it.”