Wish Upon A Star

by Jasinda Wilder

  “You are. And that’s okay. I get it. Shit, I question it myself, Dinah.”

  Her gaze is speculative. “Sorry, but I have to ask. She’s not, like, milking this for money or attention, is she?”

  “No. I don’t blame you for asking, but it’s not that. We’re doing our best to keep this out of the spotlight. I’m sure it’ll get out eventually and I’ll have to put out a statement, but I’m not thinking about that until I have to.”

  She nods. “So, then, next thing to eliminate. Is it just the sex? I mean, I know you said she’s sick, but…I mean—can she? Have sex? I don’t know anything about her medical situation, obviously. But I imagine that’s got to be an element.”

  “I’m not confusing physical chemistry for emotional connection, no.” I shrug. “That’s about all I’m willing to say, as I’m not sure what Jolene would be comfortable with me telling you.”

  “I understand. But you’re sure, though, right? Because that can be really hard to differentiate.” She wiggles her fingers at her beer, and I hand it to her. “Thanks. I’ve been down that road, myself. Me and Gray. God, it was hot between us. And I thought it was love. I really did. And I think he did, too. But then I went through a really intense creation phase, and he couldn’t handle that part of me. And I realized it was just the sex.”

  I frown. “It’s not that, Di. I promise.”

  She smirks at me. “You didn’t know I can have sex, did you?”

  “Dinah, god, come on.”

  She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “I got lucky. The nerves that got damaged took out my legs, but not the sensation in my hoo-ha. So yeah, bro, I’m a fully functioning woman, in that respect. It was weird for Gray, at first, but he figured it out pretty fast.”

  I grimace. “I don’t need to know about your sex life, Di, I really don’t. Although I am glad for you, that you still have that.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I’d have it, one way or another. If I couldn’t use my lady bits for sexy times, I’d have figured out something else.” A grin. “I am good with my hands, after all.”

  I fake a gag. “Di, stop. Seriously.”

  She waved a hand. “I’m just messing with you. Shit was too tense in here, man.” Her expression sobers. “So, then, I guess the last question I have is should I be worried about you?”

  I go back to my food, take my time before I answer. “I don’t know the answer to that one. When it’s good, with her, it’s the most incredible thing I could possibly imagine. Emotionally, physically, everything. She’s smart, she’s musically talented, she’s deep. We can talk for hours, or we can just be quiet together. She’s…she’s the toughest person I’ve ever known, Di. Tied up there with you.”

  My sister shakes her head. “I obviously don’t know her, but I have a feeling she’d agree—when you’re faced with something you can’t control, it’s not toughness, really. It’s just…surviving. I got paralyzed. It sucked. I was pissed off at the world for fucking me over, and felt like my life was over and I had nothing, blah blah blah, poor me. Eventually, I realized I could keep wallowing in self-pity, or woman up and deal with it.”

  “There is an element of toughness, though, Di. To you, and to her.”

  “I think it’s…resiliency. Mental and emotional, and maybe even spiritual, resiliency.” She pauses to eat and drink, then continues. “When people talk about going through things like what I went through, what this Jolene of yours is going through, they’re all like, ‘oh, you’re so strong.’ But really, I’m no stronger than you or anyone else. We just…we don’t have a choice, do we? I didn’t ask to be paralyzed. Jolene didn’t ask to have leukemia. But it happened. It fucking blows. I still have days where I’m angry that I can’t walk. I wake up in the morning and I look at my chair and I resent the hell out the damn thing. I look at my useless legs and I’m like ‘work, damn you!’ And I think about how I used to be able to run so freaking fast, and I miss it like crazy. But I’m not getting that back, and this is my life, and it’s who I am. And I refuse to let it define me. I’m not a paralytic, I’m just Dinah Britton, artist, athlete, and woman.” She gestures at my bedroom. “This girl? From what you’re telling me, I think she’s very similar. She’s faced with an intensely shitty situation, and she refuses to let it define her.”

  “I’d say you’ve got that nailed down pretty well. That’s her, all right.”

  “You don’t pick the easy route, do you, Wes?” she asks, laughing.

  “I didn’t pick anything. It was…I don’t know. Obviously, I’ve had a choice every step of the way. No one is, like, forcing me to do anything. She’s not needy. If anything, she’s continually given me opportunities to bail, because she knows shit like this,” I wave at the room, “is going to keep happening. And, likely, get worse. But I can’t. I can’t walk away. I can’t and I won’t. I honestly wish, in some way, that I could. I know this is going to be painful. But it’s just not an option.”

  Dinah nods, finishing her beer and handing me the empty bottle to put down. “You know, Wes, an hour ago, if you’d asked me if I thought it was possible to meet someone and fall just completely and totally in love with them and be, like, completely committed to them…all in the space of a week or whatever it’s been? I would have said you’re freaking nuts, no way. You need more time to know a person. That’s what I would have told you. But now?” She huffs, shakes her head, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I know you better than I know pretty much anyone, and this is some real shit for you, brother.”

  “It is. The realest.”

  “You’re not denying the fact that you’re in love with her, I notice.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Have you told her?”

  I shake my head. “No, I haven’t. Not yet. It hasn’t been the right time.”

  I hear a scuffle from my bedroom, and Jo is standing in the open doorway, squinting one-eyed at me, the flat sheet wrapped around her otherwise naked body. “Wes?”

  I stand up and take a step toward her. “Hey, you. Feeling any better?” I gesture at Dinah. “My sister showed up.”

  Dinah waves. “Hey. I’d get up to greet you, but…” a laugh, and a gesture at her empty wheelchair. “I can’t. I hope we didn’t wake you up.”

  Jolene shakes her head, shuffling sleepily toward me. “No, I woke up on my own.” She goes straight into my arms. “Hi.”

  I wrap my arms around her. “Hi. You’re on your feet—that’s something, at least, right?”

  She nods against my chest. “Yeah, I’m okay now. Like last time, I’m not a hundred percent, but I’m upright and mobile.” Still blinking against the light, she sniffs the air. “I smell food.”

  “I didn’t know about you till I got here,” Dinah says, “Or I’d have brought you some. I can run back out and get some for you.”

  I pick her up and sit on the couch with Jolene on my lap, and feed her a fry. “Nah, we can share.”

  Jolene huffs a laugh. “I hope you weren’t hungry, Wes, because you’re not getting this back.” She takes my half-finished burger from the coffee table and attacks it.

  I laugh and pick at the fries. “Yup, you’re feeling better.”

  The sheet slips, revealing some of her chest, and I tug it back into place. Jolene doesn’t seem to notice. Dinah is watching us, openly curious. Jolene polishes off the burger in a few massive bites, eying the six-pack.

  “I’m not twenty-one, and alcohol is generally a no-no for someone in my position,” she says, her voice hesitant. “But…I don’t think my risk factor can get any higher, right?

  I frown, sighing. “I…shit, Jo, I don’t know.”

  Jolene touches my nose. “I guess I could make it easier for you. I’m not asking as someone with terminal leukemia, but as your underage girlfriend—can I have a beer, please?”

  I groan. “Jo, if I were to do anything to…to put you at risk, I’d never be able to live with myself.”

  “You’re not, Wes. Like I said, there’s no greater ri
sk than what I’m facing.”

  I glance at Dinah for…I don’t know what. She just shrugs as if to say don’t look at me. I twist the cap off and hand it to her.

  Adorably, comically, she holds it in two hands and takes an exaggeratedly ginger sip. Makes a face. “Wow. That’s…surprisingly terrible.”

  I laugh. “Right? I honestly don’t know why we even drink it.”

  “Because we like the buzz, bro-ski,” Dinah answers.

  Jolene snorts around a second, less ginger sip. “Bro-ski?”

  I sigh. “It’s been her nickname for me for years. It started out as a tongue-in-cheek joke and just sort of stuck.”

  Jolene eyes me, now holding the bottle in one hand and keeping the sheet clutched closed with the other. “I’m still hungry.”

  I slide her off my lap and stand up. “What do you want? I’ll make you something.”

  “Um…grilled cheese?”

  “Coming up.” I glance at Dinah. “You good?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Have you met me?”

  I laugh. “Grilled cheese sandwiches all around it is.”

  Dinah glances at Jolene. “Have you had one of his grilled cheeses yet?”

  Jolene shakes her head. “No. They’re just one of my favorite things to eat. My comfort food, you know?”

  Dinah grins. “Well, you’re in luck. My brother can’t cook for shit, all right? He burns water. Meat is usually burnt on the outside and raw in the middle. But, he makes one hell of a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”

  “Do you happen to have any tomato soup?” Jolene asks.

  I frown thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I’ll check.”

  Dinah snorts. “He doesn’t do his own shopping, you know that, right? Bro-ski, here, is too famous for that. Claims he’ll get mobbed if he tried, so he sends his poor overworked manager to do all his grocery shopping for him.”

  Jolene shrugs. “I mean, we were in a Best Western or something on the super outskirts of freaking Cheyenne, Wyoming and he got mobbed just leaving our room for literally five minutes. So, I can guess that if he were to go Whole Foods or something, he’d probably cause a literal riot.”

  Dinah rolls her eyes. “Well, you failed that test,” she says.

  “Don’t mind her,” I say from the kitchen, where I’m slathering cream cheese on bread. “She thinks it’s her bound duty to keep me humble by constantly and mercilessly mocking me and trying to get everyone around me to do the same.”

  “I’m your big sister,” Dinah says. “It is my duty to keep you from getting too big for your britches.”

  Jolene watches the exchange between Dinah and me. “You guys are funny.”

  “Only child, huh?” Dinah asks.

  Jolene nods. “Yeah.” She glances at me. “Did you call my parents?”

  I nod as I put the three sandwiches on the griddle of my range. “I have a neighbor three doors down who rents their house on Airbnb—your parents, your grandma, Macy, and Bethany are there now. They actually got in a couple hours ago, but you were still sleeping so they decided to wait until tomorrow.”

  Jolene frowns. “But it was a false alarm.”

  “I mean, was it? It was way worse than the last one. You had a fever, where you didn’t last time.”

  She doesn’t answer immediately. “It can be a quick visit. Show them all that I’m doing okay, that you and I aren’t…I dunno…a fluke, or whatever, and they can go home.”

  I’m unsure how to respond. On one hand, I understand what she’s saying and why, but on the other hand, part of me does want her parents and family close. For her support, and my own. This is all new to me, this aspect of Jolene’s situation. I brought her away from her family, and if something were to happen suddenly and her parents couldn’t be with her when she needs them, I’d never forgive myself. But she also deserves her autonomy. She has a right to make decisions for herself.

  It’s a tricky line to walk.

  She’s watching me, and I think she understands what I’m chewing on. “You want them here,” she says.

  I flip the sandwiches. “I want you to have them close if you need them.”

  She rests her chin on the back of the couch, watching me. “Just in case, right?”

  “I also want us to have our privacy and time alone. And I know you need and deserve and have the right to make decisions for yourself. You told me to call them, so I did. How you handle them from here is your choice, Jo, and I’ll support it no matter what. If you want, I can have Jen pay the owners of the house to let them stay there indefinitely. Pay them enough, and they’ll agree. Or, I can have a jet standing by at all times, but it’d still be several hours from liftoff till them being at your side, in the event that you get sick and feel like you…” I swallow hard. “Like you need them with you. I don’t know what the right decision is, Jo, I really don’t. I just know I want you to be happy, I want to support you, help you, and care for you in every way I can.”

  Dinah huffs. “Good lord.”

  I frown at her. “What?”

  “You’re so freaking sweet it’s saccharine, Wes. Gag.” Her eyes show love and approval, despite her words; quintessential Dinah. “Insta-love is fake—I’ll maintain this to my dying day. You two are just…special.”

  Jolene says nothing. I can tell Dinah’s use of the L-word is freaking her out, though.

  Dinah stays another hour or so, eating and talking with Jo and me, until she finally heads home.

  When she’s gone, Jolene and I sit on the couch together. “So is that normal? Your sister showing up in the middle of the night like that?”

  I nod, snorting a laugh. “Yeah, it is. She keeps weird hours, and so do I. But now that she knows you’re around, she’ll probably text before showing up, just to make sure she’s not…you know…interrupting.”

  Jolene blushes. “I probably should have gotten dressed, huh?” She’s still wrapped in the sheet.

  I wave in dismissal. “Nah. If we were at her house, she’d probably be half naked herself. We weren’t raised to be super prudish about nudity, so you in a sheet isn’t going to bother her.”

  “I was raised to be prudish about nudity,” Jolene says. “But I’m still feeling kinda meh, and putting on clothes just sounded like a lot of effort.”

  I grin, and pull her onto my lap. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” I pull the edges of the sheet apart, baring her torso. “Especially now that we’re alone and you can just take it off.”

  She nuzzles into me. “I’m not up for anything but cuddling, Wes. I’m sorry.”

  “I know. Don’t apologize. I’m just expressing appreciation for your beauty.”

  She trails her fingers through my hair. “Can we go back to bed? I’m tired again.”

  “The beer, probably,” I say.

  She only drank about half of it before deciding the taste wasn’t for her; Dinah didn’t finish her second either.

  She shakes her head. “No, I’m still just…meh. Ready to sleep again.” She clings to my neck as I stand up with her in my arms. “Thank you for bringing my family here.”

  “Of course.”

  In bed, wrapped up in each other, covered with blankets.

  “I like your sister,” she whispers.

  “Me too.”

  “Well that’s good,” she laughs. “She is your sister.” A pause. “I’m glad you have her.”

  “Now you do, too.”

  A pause. “If I wanted to call her and talk to her about you…”

  I huff a laugh. “I’ll give you her number. Talking about me is her favorite thing. Especially if it’s talking shit.” I laugh again. “She means it with love, though, so I don’t mind.”

  A long silence. “Wes?”

  “Hmmm?” I’m sleepy, now. I haven’t slept well, if at all, since she took sick.

  “Before I got sick, you said you’d take me on a date. Did you mean it? Can we…can we still do that?”

  I trace circles on her scalp with my fingers. “Alre
ady have it planned.”

  She makes a happy little sound. “Yay.” A pause. “Never been on a date.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “The exact shade of chocolate brown of your eyes.”

  I snort. “No one’s favorite color is brown,” I say, shaking with laughter. “That’s sweet of you, but try again.”

  “Green. The green of pine needles and oak leaves and chlorophyll and life. Green is the color of life.”

  Something about that makes my heart squeeze, twist.

  “Favorite food?”

  “Pizza.” Her answer is immediate. “The kind that comes out of a wood-fired stone oven. Margherita, specifically. Big fat gooey chunks of mozzarella and tomatoes and basil.”

  “Favorite band?”

  A pause. A smile in her voice. “I’m not being sweet, here, but…you. You’re my favorite musician.”

  “Well that’s just ridiculous. I haven’t released any music in years.”

  “If I had to pick another? Swan Song. Legit. I love their music, and I always have. And not just because they discovered you.”

  I hold her closer. “Get some rest, now.”

  She hums, nuzzling as close as she can get, burrowing into my throat and against my chest.

  In this moment, I feel complete.

  The shattering is on the horizon—I can feel it approaching like a tidal wave. But I’m only focused on the here and now, this moment, this feeling.

  It’s all there is.

  It’s all that matters.

  Love—A Rise, Not A Fall

  Jolene

  I can’t quite bring myself to feel bad that I only spend a few days with my family—I include Macy and Beth as family. I just…I’ve had my whole life with them, and only a few days with Wes. So I’m a little greedy, I guess.

  We do the Hollywood tourist thing. Sunset Boulevard, Beverly Hills, a comedy show—all guided by Wes in celebrity disguise. He even brings us on a golf cart tour of the Warner Brothers sound stage area, and we do indeed meet several well-known actors and actresses.