Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  "You’re welcome anytime, Mac." She spoke with sincerity, and then a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Mac, I was just thinking…come back inside."

  He followed her back in and she led him to the closed door adjacent to the bathroom. She opened it and they entered the second bedroom of Jessica’s small home.

  It was two rooms, really, a smaller one intersecting a larger one. The door opened into the smaller room, which held a roll-top desk, a highboy dresser and mirrored wardrobe closet. A second access door to the main bathroom completed the room’s features. Through the corner, a step down led to the larger room, housing a queen-sized bed and a wicker chair. The room was long and there was a single French door at the opposite end that opened to a path that turned to the street.

  Currently, the bed was piled with odds and ends, "Goodwill" clothing, books and scripts. Jessica turned to Mac. "This is Roxie’s room, but since she doesn’t live here, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing it with you for awhile." She laughed, clasping her hands together over her brilliant idea.

  Mac looked around the room, then back at Jessica."I don’t believe this. You’re offering this room to me?"

  "Sure, until your roof’s done and your house is livable."

  "Are you sure?" He looked at her incredulously, then hesitantly. "It’s perfect."

  "Well, far from that, but it has a private door, so you can come and go as you please; I’ll clear out this closet and get rid of all this junk," she offered, sweeping her hand toward the bed, "and you can stop sleeping on couches."

  Mac pressed his fingers to his lips in indecision. He opened the closet again, not really looking inside, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned back to Jessica. "I’ll pay you, of course," he began. She held up her hand.

  "Don’t offend me, please. Just stock the pantry with whatever you like to eat."

  "I keep really bad hours, Jess, I’d be showering at four in the morning and dragging in at ten at night…"

  "No problem."

  "…and bringing in strange women…"

  "That’s what the side door is for," she smiled warmly, and he tousled her hair.

  "It’s a deal. How much of a security deposit do you want?"

  For Jessie, it was a very different kind of New Year’s Day. They hadn’t even turned on the TV to see the Rose Parade, which had always been a big deal to her while growing up. Nonetheless, there was still the sense of a new beginning in the air.

  ~ * ~

  By that evening, a Sunday night, Mac had moved a few items and clothing into Jessie’s spare room and he went to bed early. He explained that most of his calls were at five in the morning, and that he might not see her much except on weekends, if then. Not used to having a roommate, this was fine with Jessica, and life went pretty much back to normal. She did hear him showering the first couple of mornings, but drifted back to sleep each time. There was actually something comforting about having him around.

  Lost Season rehearsals began in earnest and Jessica’s own hours became erratic. One evening she returned home late to find Mac already retired and a note on the refrigerator door.

  Jess--Pierce called. 7:30 p.m.--Mac

  Her face grew warm and she looked at the clock. 10:30. Thinking it could be about the film, she decided to call him back.

  "How about dinner Saturday night? I’d like to go over some of the scenes and get your ideas about the location shoot."

  Jessica took a deep breath. "I guess…sure. Can I meet you somewhere?"

  "No, I’ll pick you up." He paused. "I, uh, understand you have a roommate?" he asked casually. "If I’d known you were taking in boarders, I would have applied."

  Saturday night brought Jessica to her usual unnerved state at the prospect of seeing Dane. In the kitchen, Mac stood over his own stir-fry chicken dinner on the stove, chiding her as she flitted around the house.

  "Hey, Jess, he’s just a guy, right? Just a guy."

  "No, Mac, you’re just a guy. He’s Dane Pierce, and he’s got my number, remember?"

  Mac feigned hurt feelings at her comment, and Jessica smiled, then rearranged her hair for the fifth time. "Where are my keys?"

  "Don’t worry, you probably won’t need them."

  She stopped and gave him a frown, then went back to the mirror. Finally, she confronted Mac across the breakfast counter. "I’m scared, Mac."

  "Well, you don’t have a very strong track record against this guy. Just keep up your guard, and if he gets fresh, throw him a right hook--between the legs." Making a fist, he demonstrated a low punch for her. She pouted at his failure to be serious, and he leaned across the counter, his face close to hers. "Look, if it wasn’t for this film coming up, I’d tell you to just blow him off. I wouldn’t even let you go. But you are about to have a very intimate encounter with him--as Mariah Sinclair--and for that to come off okay, you have got to get past this obsession. Get it?"

  Jessica nodded.

  "And," he added, "I’m not going to wait up for you." He pointed his finger and touched her nose.

  The doorbell made her jump; Mac rolled his eyes and went back to the stove. She let Dane in and went for her coat.

  "MacKendall. What’s cookin’?"

  "Dinner. I offered to share, but Jessie said you’d rather go out." Mac offered Pierce a sliced carrot, which he took good-naturedly but stopped short of putting in his mouth.

  "Wouldn’t try to poison me, would you Mac?" His green eyes glittered, and Jessie hastened to get him out the door.

  But Mac was not to be outdone. "Have her in by midnight or don’t bring her back." Jessica frowned at him behind Dane’s back and he grinned indulgently, then blew her a kiss as they went out.

  ~ * ~

  Dane was quiet during dinner, and Jessica still felt nervous. She stole an appraising look at him while he was talking to the waiter. Still thin, but still immensely attractive. Just a guy, she reminded herself. Finally, she spoke up. "Dane, why did you ask me out?"

  "I had to see you again."

  She paused, carefully nursing her drink. She would never allow herself to drink to excess again. Another resolution. I might as well become a nun, she thought in amusement.

  "Jessie, are you sleeping with MacKendall?" Dane’s question was aimed right between the eyes and was so unexpected that Jessica nearly upset her glass.

  "Dane, that’s absurd! What a thing to ask!" The immediate color rising to her cheeks evidenced her surprise. Regaining her composure, she added, "as if it’s any of your business."

  "You’re absolutely right, it is none of my business," he conceded, but was obviously quite satisfied with her denial.

  "Besides, he’s not interested in having a relationship with anyone right now." Jessica detected a look of surprise, but went on to change the subject. "How is your family?"

  "Okay, I guess…They seemed fine at Christmas, the kids I mean, except that Zoe doesn’t remember me. I guess I don’t remember her too well either…Hey, it turns out Rita’s tennis guy is a law student. A fucking law student! Hey, that’s funny." His sarcasm was bitter, and out of reflex she put her hand over his. Seeming to take her gesture as a positive sign, he threw down a wad of bills. "Let’s get out of here, Jess."

  They walked back to the Porsche, and, instead of starting the car, Dane reached for her. She resisted his advance, and he spoke softly. "Jessica, come home with me."

  Jessica felt her spine turn to jelly. She sat silent, searching his eyes, his face, his lips…and back to the green eyes, sensually asking her for another night of lovemaking and intimacy.

  "No."

  There. She said it. She felt her eyes burning and prayed that she wouldn’t start crying.

  "Ah, Jess…I know I’m a complete jerk. I know I blew it with you. Please, let me make it up to you…"

  "Dane, don’t say these things, please." She took a breath, and went on. "I think…the world of you, Dane, please believe me. But we’re out of sync, you and I." The tears were going to come anyway, and she touc
hed his face affectionately. "The timing’s not right. I can’t be what you want, and you can’t be what I want. There’s a lot at stake here, not just the film. I want to help you, but what I have isn’t what you need. Maybe someday, when things settle down for you…but for now, it’s best if you just take me home."

  "Things will never settle down for me, Jess. We’re good together, and you know it. No one sets me off like you do…and I know you feel something for me…we can come up with some arrangement that would work for us, I know it." When she didn’t respond, he continued. "I hate this cat and mouse game we play. And I hate it that you’re shacking up with MacKendall. I want you, Jessie…" His parted lips met hers, now wet with tears. She let him kiss her, then held her cheek against his.

  "Take me home, Dane. I’m sorry, really," she sobbed. "You’ve got to…to understand…why…this won’t work…for me. Please?"

  He sighed and lowered his chin to his chest, then started the car.

  ~ * ~

  "Looks like your roommate is out," Dane mused, as they stopped at the curb before the darkened house. Jessica looked down, feeling for her purse on the floor of the car. Instead of a handbag, her fingers closed on a small book, which she retrieved. Black, with a soft leather cover, she almost expected it to say "Holy Bible" across the cover. Instead, the gold embossed letters in the lower right corner spelled "DANE T. PIERCE." Instantly he snatched it from her hand and tossed it into the black abyss of the back seat.

  Jessica looked at him in surprise, but Dane ignored her look and glanced again at the house. "By the way, Jessie, regardless of what he tells you, he is involved with someone."

  Now grasping her purse, she frowned. Dane seemed to delight in stirring her up, and she decided not to encourage more conversation about Mac. She shrugged, then hastily got out of the car. She leaned down to look back in, keeping her swollen eyes guarded.

  "Goodnight, Dane. I…had a nice time. See you at rehearsals."

  ~ * ~

  Quietly Jessica crept across the living room. Indeed, the house was dark and she turned on the small television in her bedroom, the volume low. On auto-pilot she dressed for bed, washed her face, brushed her teeth and her hair, then lay down, grasping a pillow to her stomach. Silent tears wet the pillow as she tried to put the evening behind her. It had been hard to say good-bye to Dane, hard to deny herself one more night of owning him, of being treated, if only briefly, like she belonged to him.

  A movement caught her eye and she looked up to see Mac standing at the foot of her bed, rubbing his eyes and squinting at her.

  "You okay?" he asked softly, shutting off the television.

  "Yeah," she whispered, but he came to her anyway and sat on the edge of the bed. In the dim glow afforded by the back porch light, Jessie took in Mac’s appearance. Despite the chill in the house, he was wearing a tank shirt and running shorts, and looked ready to run a marathon at a moment’s notice.

  "I didn’t really expect you home. What happened, didn’t he ask you to stay?" Although seemingly calm, his voice was edged with a touch of disdain.

  "Yes," she whispered between sobs.

  "So? Why are you here?"

  "I told him no."

  "What?" Mac’s eyebrows went up. "I don’t understand. He invited you home for fun and games and you turned him down?" Jessica nodded, sniffing. "But I thought that’s what you wanted!" Mac jumped up and paced to the French doors and back to the bed, his arms outstretched in demonstration of his surprise. "I don’t get it." He sat down again, his back to her in exasperation.

  "I couldn’t do it, Mac. I told him that we weren’t compatible, that it wouldn’t work and that maybe someday, after he gets his life together."

  Mac turned to look at her, and with a sigh, stretched out on his side next to her. "I can’t believe you did it. I’m proud of you."

  Despite his encouraging words, the tears were still coming, and Jessica grasped his shirt in her fist and pressed her face against his chest. Her gesture touched him and he gently lifted her chin to reveal her eyes to him.

  "It’s just so sad, Mac," she explained miserably.

  "I know," he murmured, pulling the covers up to tuck her in, "but you did the right thing, and these will be the last tears you shed over that guy." He began brushing her hair from her face with his fingers, repeating the motion again and again until she fell asleep.

  ~ * ~

  Somewhere, a phone was ringing. Jessica thought she was dreaming, because the ring seemed far away. Still, she sleepily stirred in the direction of the noise, and in doing so, found she was not alone. Bound by an arm tucked comfortably around her waist, she could feel slow, even breathing at the back of her neck.

  Alarmed at first, she turned her head quickly toward the source and looked onto her roommate’s sleeping face, apparently undisturbed by the ringing telephone. The phone was on the opposite nightstand, and as Jessica turned to reach it, the arm absently maintained its grip on her. Finally retrieving the phone, she fell back on the pillow, Mac’s protective hold still embracing her.

  Her eyes wide, she lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

  The voice on the line was a young child’s, identifying herself and asking to speak to her daddy.

  "Your daddy?" Jessica said groggily.

  "Yes, his name is Cory Lee MacKendall and he’s late. Is he there?" The little girl was assertive, there was no doubt.

  "Um…I think so," Jessica stared in awe at Mac’s sleeping form next to her, "I’ll go see; hold on, honey." She put her hand across the mouthpiece and struggled to turn herself to face him. In doing so, she discovered that her legs, bare beneath her short nightgown, were comfortably nested against his, long, and bare, and warm. She loathed waking him.

  "Mac!" she whispered loudly, "Wake up! It’s Megan!" Gently she shook his shoulder.

  Mac lifted his head up and took everything in at once. "Am I in your bed?"

  Jessica nodded, amused at his reaction to finding himself with her; gingerly he pulled his arm free of her waist.

  "Mac, it’s Meggie! On the phone!" She tried to make him comprehend.

  "Megan? Shit--what time is it?"

  "Nine-thirty."

  "Damn!" Mac took the phone, and his agitated state went under wraps. "Hi sweetheart. Yeah, it’s Daddy. Yeah, I’m still coming, you know how I sometimes get busy…" At this Jessica couldn’t contain her giggles and pressed her face into a pillow. "One hour, Meggie, I’ll be there, sugar. Let me talk to Mommy." Jessica heard his voice change. "Yes, I am coming. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme a break. As if you never made a mistake. Yeah? Well I guess I made that one, too." Although the words seemed unkind, he laughed in good humor before handing her back the phone, then plopped back into his pillow with a groan.

  He lay there only a moment before bounding out of the bed, slapping her on the behind and commanding, "Get up. We’ve got to be in Camarillo in an hour."

  Jessica propped herself up. "What do you mean, ‘we’?"

  He hollered at her from his bedroom as he began gathering his clothes. "You’re going with me," then, as he peeked back around the corner of her door, he added, "if you want…I could use the company…please?" with a most beguiling smile.

  Having nothing better to do, she nodded and raced to get ready.

  It was an hour drive to Camarillo. They took Mac’s ancient Ford pick up and headed across the south Valley, chatting about the city, the weather, and local politics. It seemed refreshing to talk about normal things, and Jessica began to relax for the first time in weeks. After a few moments of quiet, Mac spoke of the night before.

  "Sorry about falling asleep in your bed," he began. "One minute I was staring at the moon through your window, trying to figure out the meaning of my life, and the next, well, you know the rest."

  "Your life can’t be that boring," she said with a laugh, taking the edge off of his apology and letting him know she wasn’t annoyed. It had been a long time since she had awakened to the feel of a warm, masculine body wrapped comfort
ably around hers…no, she certainly wasn’t annoyed.

  "It’s getting better," he said softly, stealing a sideways look at her as he drove.

  ~ * ~

  Megan was a bright, articulate child, still a baby and yet quite a young lady in many ways. With curly brown hair and her father’s sensitive brown eyes, she was petite but a tornado of energy, full of questions and opinions about worldly things. Jessica loved her immediately, and they enjoyed a splendid day shopping in Ventura Beach. It was obvious to Jessica that Megan was the single most important person in Mac’s life. Once, she and Wesley had planned a baby, and Meggie seemed just like the child she had always envisioned.

  While waiting for Mac to purchase carousel tickets, Megan crawled onto Jessica’s lap.

  "Daddy says you’re his special friend. Are you going to marry him?"

  Jessica stroked the little girl’s hair. "Do you want your daddy to get married?"

  "No. Mom says he wouldn’t come for me anymore if he gets married."

  "Well, you should never worry about that. Your daddy loves you more than anything in the whole world. He’ll never stop coming."

  "I wish he lived with us." Megan’s face was puckered.

  "You know your dad works very hard at his job, and he can’t always be there, but he wishes he could be with you, I know. He told me. And when his house is all finished, he wants you to come and stay with him for awhile."

  "I don’t think my mom will let me. She says I won’t like it there."

  "She just might change her mind, Meggie. It’s a beautiful place, with a special room, just for you."

  Mac returned with tickets and ice cream cones. Megan scrambled off of Jessica’s lap and threw her arms around Mac’s legs in a rush of affection for her father, who quickly handed the ice cream to Jessie. He lifted Megan and tossed her into the air, catching her in a bear hug and kissing her neck playfully. Jessica watched with unabashed envy.

  Jessica found Linda MacKendall to be a complex person, someone still not comfortable with being divorced and trying to protect her daughter from the negative influences of separation. Although she was cordial, almost friendly to Jessica, Linda seemed to resent Mac and his chosen lifestyle, and therein lay the conflict in raising their mutual child. Jessica found herself thankful that she and Wesley had been childless. She couldn’t fathom going through Mac’s struggle to keep his daughter close, nor Dane’s heartbreak at losing touch with his youngest.