Forever in Hollywood

by Jovana Rodolakis

  “Right,” he said as he pulled into the driveway.

  Jocelyn was startled awake from in front of the television when we walked in.

  “Where have you been? I thought you were just going to grab lunch,” she grumbled and glanced at the clock. “Or possibly dinner now?”

  “I’m sorry, Joce, I forgot. I ran into Andrew and―” What could I tell her?

  “You needed time, I understand. Should I have something delivered?”

  “Order enough for all of us.” Andrew pulled out his worn leather wallet and placed a few twenties on the coffee table. Our fingers entwined, he led me upstairs to his room.

  The door closed with a gentle click. Andrew pulled me down on the bed, and I snuggled against his broad chest. Earlier I wasn’t sure I’d be alive right now, but I survived the wrath of Raymond once more. This time, Andrew made sure he’d never harm me again. A real life hero held me in his arms. His actions were selfless, even though I made it clear I couldn’t stay here with him, he risked everything for me. Andrew faced the mess I made with my life and showed me how to clean it up. There was no way I could disappoint him and run from my problems in Boston, nor here, if it came down to it.

  “If they come asking questions, I’m going to tell them you were never there.”

  Every time I blinked my eyes burned, but I was done crying. “You will do no such thing. Stop trying to act tough for one evening please. Do you even realize how close I came to losing you today?” He let out a choked breath.

  “I know.” We clutched each other tighter.

  The tumultuous day left me exhausted. Even though I was terrified of the possibility of being associated with his death, there was nothing I could do. So I fell asleep listening to the strong drum of Andrew’s heart. It beat for me, and mine beat because of him. How could I ever find the courage to leave?

  Jocelyn rapped on the door. “Mari, wake up. Something’s happened. Please come down here.”

  I thought I was dreaming at first, but the second round of knocking pulled me into reality.

  “The news…they are reporting that Ray’s dead.”

  I bolted upright. My phone was still grasped in my hand. The plastic casing was moist with sweat, and there was a square indent on Andrew’s arm from where it had rested. Subconsciously I must have expected the police to call, for I didn’t remember going to sleep with it in my hand.

  “What’s going on?” Andrew stretched his large legs causing his thigh muscles to flex.

  “There’s something on the news about Raymond already,” I whispered. “I’m coming,” I called in a louder voice to Jocelyn.

  Purple and gray clouds darkened the windows. A check of my phone confirmed she must have been watching the seven o’clock news. Andrew and I followed her downstairs. Each step intensified the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Gunshots don’t go unnoticed, so of course the media already picked up on this story.

  Four men walked in the room, but only three emerged. Would they tell a tale of finding Ray already dead? Would anyone believe them?

  I set the phone on the table and watched the news replay the same clip again and again. A balding reporter stood in front of the neon yellow crime tape that sectioned off Ray’s hotel. Behind him, the police wheeled out one black body bag, then another.

  “This is Los Angeles’ Shane Kennedy reporting on location at the Sun Side Inn where the body of Raymond Stallings, Jr. was found earlier today, the victim of apparent gang related activity. Raymond was a City Council member in Florida and the son of Senator Raymond Stallings, Sr. We are being told the police have two men in custody and are looking for a third, who escaped on foot after this afternoon’s high speed chase.”

  The broadcast then flashed to a clip of Mr. Stallings, Sr. pushing a camera out of his face demanding privacy. Mrs. Stallings was being escorted away trying to hide a tearstained face.

  I was pretty sure my exhaustion reached delirium, because I almost felt sorry for them—almost.

  “I can’t believe it,” Jocelyn said. “I’m actually rid of him.”

  Her and I both. She showed no signs of grief, only shock when she turned her attention to me. “I feel bad that I don’t feel bad.” She gave a short, airy laugh. “I guess it’s safe to call my mom now.”

  Andrew waited until she walked out the back door. “What do you suppose was in the bag they stole?”

  “Drugs? Money? Both? Neither, I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Do you think the police are going to believe them when they say he was dead when they arrived?” We spoke in hushed voices, nervous Jocelyn might hear.

  “They shot someone else in the room. It’d take some serious evidence for them to suspect anyone else was involved.”

  My heart stuttered and fell to my stomach. Had we left any evidence in our hasty exit? My purse sat right where I’d deposited it a few hours ago on the kitchen island. I jumped up to look through it. Inside was my wallet. Andrew pulled money out of his wallet when he got home, so we were clear on that front. Nothing could be done to change the outcome now.

  “My mom didn’t even know about this. She was already in bed by the time the news broke. The police said a detective would call me back, and Mrs. Stallings wouldn’t tell me anything. She kept asking where I was and told me to come home.” Jocelyn rolled her eyes.

  “How many calls did you make?” I asked.

  “I was trying to get answers.”

  I wished she wouldn’t, she might stumble into answers she didn’t want to hear.

  “Well, there’s a bright side to this. You can go home now without fear.”

  “Are you nuts? I’d be returning to a circus. Besides, I know you. You’ll need me when you go home. That is, if I’m still welcome.”

  “Of course, you’re always welcome at my home.”

  The news continued to report on Raymond’s death the next day. Foul play and mafia were words that were thrown around. Jocelyn received a call from a detective at the Los Angeles Police Department, but he was ineffectual in providing any solid answers. The only thing he was interested in was information on a Thomas Cusson. Apparently that was the name of the man still missing. The detective was trying to gather any information that would tie Ray to him. Jocelyn hadn’t heard of him, so their conversation was brief.

  John called Andrew when he heard Jocelyn’s name in the news. She declined to speak with him though, said she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with anyone else right now. Everyone’s phone kept ringing except mine. It was eerily quiet.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So this is it? The last night you will lie in my bed.” A large thumb caressed my hipbone. He smelled of aftershave and fermented hops.

  Thoughts of what happened the day before plagued my memory only allowing me a handful of restful moments that night. I woke in a panic, needing to be out of Los Angeles, so I booked our return flights home for the next day, it was the soonest available. It was foolish to think the distance would somehow make me immune to examination, but I had to get away from it all.

  “Mmm,” I was glad the lights were off so he couldn’t see the hurt in my face. A hand tightened over my bottom, and he drew me closer. His need pressed hard against my thigh. In an almost automated response, I hitched my leg around his muscular body.

  That night we made love for the first time, slowly, memorizing every tiny detail of each other. He told me to keep my eyes open so he could watch me the whole time.

  “The eyes are the path to one’s soul, and your soul is beautiful,” he said.

  This was so different from the lustful grabbing and tearing that we were used to. It seemed wrong to give in to such raw need on our last night together. Our last night. The thought cut deep into me. I would truly never see him again. In seven hours, I would board a plane and try to fit fragments of trivial effects into my life to fill the void that was Andrew.

  Could I do it? Could I walk away from this? On multiple occasions he tried to broach the subjec
t of my leaving, and I refused adamantly to talk about it. I knew if we did I would beg for him to let me stay. This wasn’t what he wanted though. Every time he started the conversation it began with ‘when you leave’. He never endeavored to hint at wanting me to stay with him.

  We wanted different things, just like Dan and I. Two men I loved and neither one wanting what I did. God why did I think about Dan at a time like this?

  “Are you all right?” Andrew murmured. His emerald eyes were heavy lidded and his forehead creased.

  I couldn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded a response.

  With trembling hands, he brushed strands of hair from my chest. The newly exposed skin was covered with tender kisses.

  Sometime later as I was lying on Andrew’s chest, humid with sweat from our exertion, he chuckled.

  “Why are you laughing?” My head bobbled on his chest. I certainly didn’t feel like laughing.

  “I love you.”

  I lay still on his chest for a minute trying to understand why he would say something like that. “What?” In all the time we were together, he never indicated any such notion. Sure, he called me love, but that was a pet name. I simply took it for granted that my infatuation with him was one-sided. The feelings I had grown and nurtured were a manifestation of my disastrous marriage and not something deeper.

  “I love you. God I love you, Marissa. When I’m with you, I’m happy. The thought of you leaving is tearing me up inside.”

  “You can’t say that.”

  “Yes, I can, it’s true. I’ve been trying to refute the fact, but I can’t.”

  I slowly moved off his chest. Our skin made moist suction noises as we parted. “No, you can’t say that to me. You can’t. You just can’t do that.” I pointed at him as my voice rose.

  I grabbed the first article of clothing my hands touched, his shirt, and threw it over my shoulders. I couldn’t stay in the room near him. He had to let me go, I was reconciled to leaving. He couldn’t be saying what I wanted to hear on the eve of our departure.

  “Wait, Marissa, why are you leaving? Please don’t go. What did I say to upset you?”

  “You just can’t do this, I’m leaving tomorrow, Andrew. Please don’t say that to me.” I looked around the room frantically. It was having that circus house of mirrors effect of growing smaller by the second. “I need some air.”

  I clutched the front of his shirt closed around me and stumbled downstairs into the living room. Jocelyn was sleeping on the couch. I slid out the French doors onto the balcony. A slight breeze played with the shirttail, so I buttoned it and used my hands to keep the bottom from flying over my hips. The height of Andrew compared to my small stature made his shirt more modest than a few skirts I owned. It hung midway down my thigh.

  He hadn’t followed me out of the room. I wasn’t sure if I was glad for the solitude or not.

  My body and my soul burned to go back to him and stay with him for as long as he would have me. My mind knew this course of action to be imprudent though. The two entities warred with each other inside me as I stared blankly into the night sky searching for answers in the stars.

  If only I hadn’t drunk so much that fateful night at the dance club. Would I have stopped Andrew’s advances? Should I have severed communications when I found out what kind of person he was? He would be free from me, free from the looming possibility that somewhere, at any time, police could knock on his door.

  I know by the end of shooting I was so frustrated with how everyone was acting, granted my own actions were the cause of my angst, that it had broken my free spirit.

  Mental and physical exhaustion seeped into my bones. I turned to take a seat on one of the plastic lawn chairs but it was occupied. I started in surprise; I hadn’t heard him come outside, yet there he sat quietly staring at me. I walked over and climbed into his lap. He accepted me open-armed, his coarse hands were tender as he pulled me closer. Unspoken words were delivered with his fingertips as they grazed the exposed area of skin right below where his shirttail stopped on my thigh. It was a seemingly absentminded gesture but I understood every stroke, every pause, and every directional change his fingers made. So I nuzzled my head into his neck and fell fast asleep listening to his fingers talk to me.

  ****

  Andrew was quiet and distracted as he drove us to the airport. He didn’t flip through the radio stations when commercials came on, nor did he look over at me once the entire ride. I sat in the front next to him, and Jocelyn sat in the back with ear buds in her ears. She was being kind and giving us what little privacy she could during our last moments together.

  This afternoon I would be back in Boston, returning home to God only knew what. I hadn’t spoken to Dan since I threatened alimony and he said he was moving out. The fantasy romance that was Andrew and I would be a fleeting memory. I couldn’t dwell on such things.

  The car rolled by the passenger drop-off sign and pulled into one of the parking garages. I felt a tiny bit relieved to know he intended to walk with us inside the airport. Selfish I know, but I would have a little longer with him.

  He grabbed two of my bags and walked ahead at a quick pace to the check-in counter. I guess the distance between us right now was a good thing. Still, he remained silent. I wanted to ask what was on his mind but if he wanted to talk he would. I shouldn’t force anything out of him that might upset me.

  We checked our bags and proceeded to the security gate. Andrew stayed by my side staring off in the distance as we wound our way around the line. He slipped under the nylon fence when we got near security.

  Jocelyn walked through the security gate. When she was out of sight Andrew spoke up. “I don’t want you to leave.” His hand reached out to cup mine, but I jerked it away. This was hard enough without a touch. I feared that might push my resolve over the edge. What kind of fool would I be to run off and chase a dream so fragile that a mere whisper could shatter? Then where would I be; where would Jocelyn be?

  Maybe I was the fool for not allowing myself to follow my heart. Maybe I was scared, Dan had been my solid rock, and look how that turned out.

  Sure I would have blinding passion for a time with Andrew. He would read me like an open book and know exactly what to say and do to me. Was that enough though? I thought not; he wasn’t used to sharing his life with someone else. He would grow tired of it the same way everyone outgrows his or her first crush.

  “I can’t do it, Andrew.” My heart tugged at my soul strings in protest. “You can’t ask me to leave my life in Boston to chase the unknown. What will happen if I say okay? Tell me that.”

  Someone behind me cleared their throat. They were getting impatient for me to walk through the gate. I ignored them; they could pass me if they wanted.

  “You stay in L.A. and we live happily ever after.”

  “Happily ever after?” I scoffed. “There is no such thing; life doesn’t work out like the movies. You have to live in the now.

  “What about Jocelyn? You’re suggesting she and I get a one-room shack here, because you know that’s all we both could afford together, and we would struggle? I have a decent paying job in Boston. I have a decent size house in Boston that if I don’t return to, my ex will take.” Neither of us even dared to mention what else my staying could lead to.

  “No, you can pursue your acting career and be comfortable here in L.A.”

  “Andrew.” I would have laughed at him if the situation wasn’t as such. “Be serious, I am a D-list actress at best. Scraping minute roles in television shows and movies won’t pay the bills. Besides, this city would eat Jocelyn and me alive. I mean look what has happened in the little time I’ve been here.”

  “Then move in with me. My place is big enough. I’ll take care of you until you’re on your feet.” He seemed hopeful.

  “And what do you suggest I do with Jocelyn? I have to think about her, I pulled her into this. Besides, once the novelty wears off, you’ll get tired of me.”

  “Now who’s bei
ng ridiculous? Why are you so afraid to follow your heart? I know you want to.” His eyebrows pulled together.

  “I have to go, Andrew. Please don’t make this harder than it already is, I’m begging you. If you love me the way you think you do, you will let me leave.”

  “Marissa, your twisted, misconstrued view on things is absurd. I would never leave you. You are literally everything I have ever wanted and more. You are so scared to let yourself actually achieve something great that you’re willing to push it away? You’ll ruin both our lives; you do know that right? We could be so happy together. You don’t have to self-sacrifice for your friend either. She’ll rebound and pick up the pieces of her life just as easy here as in Boston. If not easier, it’s warmer here.”

  It was a long speech for him to make. He was throwing everything at me, even the weather. Leaving would tear a whole in my chest, I certainly wouldn’t look at love the same again, but I still held strong that Andrew would be no worse for the wear. He would probably be happier in a short time with me out of the way.

  “I owe it to her to make her safe and happy before I run off and do something stupid.”

  “You bloody well do not owe anyone that. She will be fine now, all things considered.”

  “Andrew stop!” I cried. “You know I can’t turn my back on her. You know I can’t do what you’re asking. I have to leave now. If, after I am gone, you’re still thinking about me, try to be my friend. I would love that more than anything. Maybe one day when...” I let the sentence trail off. I wanted to tell him we could pick things back up once I’d settled my affairs. But rationally I knew he wouldn’t forgive me for this, he wouldn’t take long to move on.

  I yearned to reach out and touch him, but I couldn’t. If I allowed myself this one small indulgence, it would be impossible to leave. The pull between us was too strong, as strong as the ties between the ocean tides and the moon.

  How does one say goodbye to someone without a gesture to accompany it? I stood motionless locked in his gaze for what seemed like an eternity.