No Greater Love

by Susan Rodgers

  ***

  While Sophie and Michelle were baking nachos for the hockey game, Jessie was about to have an all out fight with Deirdre Keating. Jessie hadn’t really managed to get back on any sort of level playing field with Dee since the return from Scotland, despite the fact she’d dyed her hair back to a more normal auburn-brown, and despite a successful return to the spotlight. On this day, Jessie was stressed and humiliated. So when Charles called and said Susanne was on her way to pick up Jessie, she was fearful. Charles hadn’t said much regarding last night’s covert meeting – he was far too close to Jessie to trust himself to speak evenly in her presence, and so he left the gruesome details up to Matt. But he had called Dee, who flew home immediately. Now, his wife was furiously pacing the imposing front room of La Casa after having insisted on hearing the tape from the night before, which both Charles and Matt implored her not to listen to. She was incensed, and when Charles put in the call to Jessie, his demand was firm.

  “Why?” Jessie wailed in dismay from her condo in response to Charles’ insistence on her appearance at his dinner table that evening. “I just want to hang out here with Jacob. Charlie and Jane are coming over.”

  Not that she wanted to see Charlie, either, but at least it would be a chance to hash things out with him and create some sort of truce. Jessie was not prepared to see Charles and Dee. She knew they were apprised of exactly what happened with Deuce and she was, frankly, terrified to face their wrath for allowing herself to be put in such a position in the first place. No way would they understand her desperate need to find Sandy’s remains, to bury him by Rachel; they wouldn’t understand that in her heart she felt her old Charleston buddies were her truest friends, all she had left, until…well, she was trying not to get her hopes up over Josh, but by God it was something that day, hearing him finally say she still meant something to him. Especially after his rage last week, which she now knew was fuelled by a growing envy from a nervous Michelle.

  “Charlie and Jane are coming here,” Charles said decisively, leaving no room for argument. “Matt has been here all day. Be ready in twenty minutes.”

  “Ah, poop,” Jessie grumbled to no one in particular as she dropped her cell phone with a crash on the side table. She plopped down onto the couch and stared blankly at the black television screen. Jacob was perched comfortably at the piano behind her, picking out notes for a new song.

  “What?” he asked, having derived from her end of the conversation that the caller was Charles.

  “Dinner,” she responded grimly. “No choice. Must go.” She hesitated a moment longer, and then answered a text from Stephen before forcing herself upright to get ready.

  No movie, ordered to North Van God help me Dee is home yeesh

  She turned to Jacob and stretched catlike, yawning. “You still want to be a part of all this, Jacob?

  The great Charles Keating doesn’t take no for an answer.” She pouted.

  “How much time do we have?” Jacob was already off the piano bench. He was hot for this game of celebrity becks and calls. He would do a thousand kowtows for Charles Keating at this point in his career. No question.

  “Twenty minutes. Minus two.”

  Jacob knew better than to chase Jessie into the bedroom today. But he did sweep her up into his arms and carry her laughing into the washroom, where he ruthlessly deposited her in the shower. They shared some sweet tender kisses and caresses as they cleaned up for Deirdre Keating, and managed to be only about ten minutes late, arriving at the Keating door in much better moods than the welcoming doomsday crowd expected.

  Deirdre didn’t wait for Carlotta to seek permission from Matt’s young guard at the entry to let them in. She whipped open the arched mahogany door and stood, arms crossed, in a white pants suit and high heels, eyes blazing.

  “Do I hug you or slap you?” she demanded of Jessie in her low authoritative Deirdre don’t-fuck-with-me voice. She softened immediately when she read from Jessie’s eyes that the girl had already been punished enough by the previous night’s ordeal. But still…enough was enough. And she was sick about what happened last night. Sick.

  “Jessie, I’ve had it. You are not to go see McCall again. I don’t care who he threatens.” She did have the grace to look apologetically at Jacob, at least. “No more,” she said, echoing Josh from earlier in the day. Her eyes were glistening as her anger started to give way to the unbelievable memory of what McCall had done to Jessie that fateful muggy August night a few years earlier.

  Dee moved into the house so Jessie and Jacob could steal quietly in. By the tense looks from the others in the front room, it was apparent the couple was entering during the tail end of a nasty, heated argument. It seemed likely everyone had received a verbal whipping from the mistress of La Casa.

  Jessie exhaled silently as she glanced around at Charles, Matt and Charlie, and received a hug from Jane. Jacob accepted the offer of a drink from Charlie, so the two guys and Jane marched off to the kitchen, gratefully. As Charlie passed by he touched her arm. Jessie looked nervously up at him, her eyes earnest. He was pale and drawn, and once again she found herself wishing for speedy transport to another place and time. She was so tired of hurting everyone.

  She found some fight, and turned to Dee as the three in the kitchen took seats and eavesdropped.

  “Dee,” she started, “I did what I felt I had to do. And if Deuce calls me, I may have to go one last time.”

  That was news to Matt and Charles. They straightened noticeably, suddenly on super-alert.

  “Jessie…,” started Charles.

  “No, Charles,” she said, raising a hand to stop him. “I went through that hell last night to ask for a map. And I intend to get it.”

  She had been thinking about it all day. The only way to get the map was going to have to involve meeting Deuce the fuck McCall one last time. Even though earlier in the day she swore she would not meet him again…

  Dee was livid. “No! No, you will NOT meet that monster again. Do you hear me?”

  Jessie whipped around to face her. “I will if I have to, Dee! I can handle him!”

  “Yes, you proved that last night, and then again back a few years ago when he almost killed you! Leave it up to the authorities! To Matt! Although,” she pointed angrily at Matt, “You are not out of the woods yet, my friend!”

  “Leave Matt out of this, Dee. He only did what I asked him to!”

  “Matt knows better! He was hired to protect you, Jessie, and occasionally he has done a terrible job of it!”

  Jessie could not stand seeing Matt’s shoulders shrink the way they did then. She glared furiously at Dee. “You leave him alone, Deirdre Keating.” She never called her manager by her full name, but she was infuriated. “If you want to blame someone, then blame me. You wanted me to come back here, and I did, and now you want me to do what, sit back and let Deuce have reasons to hurt the people I love?”

  Josh flashed through her mind. Come hell or high water she was not going to give Deuce a reason to go after him. Not now, when there was the tiniest glimmer of hope. “It’s like you’ve dropped a bomb into the ocean and now you’re asking why there’s a tsunami!”

  “Do we have to lock you up, Jessie? Are you hearing me? You are not to see that psychopath again!”

  Jessie’s already piqued face drained completely of color as she carefully backed out of the grand room under the watchful warm tones of the alluring Paul Peel painting. She didn’t put it past Dee to order Matt’s flunkies to throw her into the upstairs room and toss the key down the drain. Jessie’s eyes were wide, frightened, angry, threatening.

  “Deirdre Keating,” she hissed, her hands knuckled into fists at her sides. “You – are - my - manager. You are NOT my mother!” Instantly, she regretted saying it, because that shut Dee up once and for all. Dee stood there in her virginal pantsuit looking every bit the innocent martyr while Jessie ripped her apart.

  “Do not try to tell me what I can and cannot do. This is my life and I w
ill fucking well handle Deuce the way I see he needs to be handled.” She continued backing towards the door. Uneasily, Jacob got up and followed, one eye on Jessie and the other on Charles. Carlotta stood nearby, hands over her mouth, appalled.

  Dee took a step towards Jessie and raised an arm like one would to a drowning man whom you knew you could not rescue no matter how far you extended your reach. She was hopeful, wistful, but she knew this battle was already lost.

  This is futile, Dee thought. Everything about this girl is futile. Trying to love her is futile. Later, she would lock herself in her bathroom and cry, alone. She was embarrassed, even in front of Charles, whom she knew would strongly reprimand her for the heartless comment to Matt. Matt, who was always there when they needed him regardless of the day or time, and whom she knew tried his absolute damnedest to save this wild girl.

  Then Jessie was gone, swallowed up in the early evening’s moist warmth, shaking from the raw emotions Dee’s imposing presence had furiously conferred. Jacob was right behind her after throwing an apologetic look at Matt, who was already on his cell phone calling Susanne. The Scandinavian woman was right outside the front door but Matt felt he could not reach her without crossing in front of the irate Dee, and that was a path he was not willing to take at this particular moment.

  Susanne opened the back door of the Audi and Jessie hurled herself in sideways, leaning her forehead against the cool window and wishing this nightmare would end so everyone’s raw emotions would be a little less exposed.

  Taking Jane by the hand, Charlie laid a hand on Dee’s shoulder as they passed her by.

  “Don’t worry about her,” he said in a comforting tone. “We’ll keep her close. And Dee,” he paused only for a second because he wanted to keep the sedan in his sight, “just so you know, the two of you just fought like mother and daughter.” He grinned. “So if I were you I would take her anger and wrap a great big hug around it. You’ve just evolved to the next level.”

  A quick kiss on Dee’s wet cheek and he and Jane flew out the door, jumped into his sports car, and followed the Audi back to Jessie’s building. To no one’s real amazement Jessie climbed out of the sedan, slammed the door, parked herself behind the wheel of the red Mustang, and peeled out of the underground garage alone.

  “Damn Susanne, I’m sorry,” Jacob apologized as he watched the taillights of the old car disappear around the exit. “This shit is too much.” The last bit was almost an afterthought but Susanne, who was new to the job, clearly understood her orders as well as Jessie’s state of mind.

  “It’s okay, Jacob,” called Susanne hurriedly through the open driver’s side window as she thrust the car back into gear. “Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I were her. I’ll keep a watchful eye from a distance.”

  Charlie rushed to the opposite side of the sedan and grabbed the handle of the passenger door before Susanne could stomp on the gas pedal. He sent a look of apology to Jane, who bit her lip and crossed her arms casually as he spoke.

  “Go upstairs with Jacob and think about ordering some take-out. We’ll be back.” Charlie swung into the car and he and Susanne squealed out not far behind Jessie.

  No way was Susanne going to let the girl out of her sight or both she and Matt would be fired. As incensed as Mrs. Keating had been a short time ago, it was obvious the woman was deeply stricken by the menace Jessie had endured last night and throughout her lifetime. If nothing else, Susanne’s observant persona and experience working security gigs helped her understand such worry and pain, and both Jessie and Deirdre clearly exhibited the heavy price exacted upon victims.

  Not far ahead, in the Mustang, Jessie wasn’t stupid. She expected to be followed, but hoped she’d gotten enough of a head start to slip off on her own. Caught at the exit from her building’s lot while heavy traffic floated by on the street, her heart sank when she adjusted the rearview mirror to spy Susanne pull out of the parking garage just behind her. Damn, some privacy would be nice for a change. Oh well, she would take the new security gal for a ride, and ignore the fact that her own cheeks were flushed pink from embarrassment over her childish behavior. The woman must think she was nuts. Squealing into the street between a grey Mazda 3 and a white Lexus SUV she slammed her hand repeatedly on the steering wheel, ignoring Stephen’s texts as they popped in now and again. When they finally stopped, Jessie figured rightly he was now likely texting Jacob or Charlie, who would fill him in on the latest drama. As she calmed down, she hung her head in shame over what she had screamed heartlessly at Dee, the woman she knew loved her deeply as the daughter she never had.

  Listening despondently, abstractly, to bands like Mumford and Sons and The Zolas on The Peak radio as she drove, Jessie eventually found herself at Benny’s, the abandoned ice cream stand where she and Josh often hung out during their exquisite time together. The place was the same as she remembered – there was peeling Benny himself, standing up tall on his sign, guarding over decay and rot. Ever present, he was incapable of judging those who insisted upon utilizing the privacy of the potholed parking lot, yet somehow his warped expression insisted upon speaking his mind. Today he was saying rest little girl, and then go back and apologize. She loves you. She will forgive you. Families do that.

  Families. Huh.

  Strangely enough, Jessie was rather relieved to see that Susanne had kept up to her despite the busy traffic. She watched as her new bodyguard drew the Audi to a halt a ways back, then Jessie straightened in surprise when Charlie jumped out, waving Susanne to a spot just down the road where she could likely contact Matt, Jessie thought, and still keep a good eye out for any passing cars, of which there seemed to be few. The place was rather desolately located. Jessie was righteously terrified the Fusion might appear, but Deuce seemed to be doing other things today other than taunting her, for he was nowhere in sight – phew.

  She cranked opened the door to the Mustang and slowly leveraged herself up to a standing position, turning at the same time to face Charlie.

  He stopped about six feet from the other side of the car and, to her astonishment, started laughing.

  Irked, Jessie sidled around to the front of the car, which she had parked to face the ocean. Wistfully she wished she was with Josh, relaxing on the tailgate of his truck with him, her hand on his thigh, her foot behind his swinging their legs happily back and forth as they contemplated the infinity of the roiling waves cresting the Pacific before them. Vaguely, as Charlie joined her, Jessie wondered if he knew this was where she nurtured her relationship with Josh while she and Charlie were engaged. She figured on some level he instinctively did, but Charlie had grown over time and was adult enough now not to state the obvious.

  Instead he said, still chuckling, “Jessie, you can be a spitfire when you want to. I’m glad to see you have some fight left in you.”

  Meaning after last night, she thought, her eyebrows knitting together angrily as she recalled the humiliation of being with McCall, thrown back in her face in front of everyone by Dee.

  She wanted a smoke but she was trying so hard to quit she kept her hands under her butt to keep from getting up and grabbing the spare emergency pack stashed under the driver’s seat.

  Charlie got straight to the point.

  “Do you ever think about leaving again?” he asked, not daring to look at Jessie for fear of what he might see hidden in the blue eyes that still had the power to sink him.

  “Yes,” she said truthfully. “All the time. Every second of every day, mostly.” Until today after brunch, she thought quietly.

  Charlie nodded, unsure how to process that. Jessie helped him out.

  “Why is it easier to survive on your own?”

  Charlie leaned back on the hood of her car, twisting slightly so he could ponder Jessie in order to read her mood and thus, her intentions. “I think you can tell yourself it’s easier but if you really think about it, people who live alone are giving up a lot. So they’re really just taking the easy way out.”

  Turning
her head to peek at him, Jessie pondered what Charlie had to say.

  He continued, pausing now and again as he searched for the words, watching the soft breeze buffet Jessie’s curls, annoying her, so she had to keep brushing strands of hair out of her eyes and sweeping them behind her ears.

  “Think about it, Jessie. Look at what a person gives up by choosing to be alone – family, closeness, kids, friendships…yeah, sure, there are all kinds of wars and battles people fight in relationships, with lovers, family, friends…and so in the end it’s all about risk-taking, isn’t it? Do you risk a friendship, a romance? Because you might get hurt, in fact you will, Jessie, as you know.”

  He shifted his weight as he continued searching for the right words, words with the power to convince his troubled friend to stay, to fight for the happily-ever-after she deserved. “People who love each other often hurt each other, but the thing is in most cases their love is deep enough to endure those digs. They lash out at each other because they trust their love is deep enough to endure. Because they trust the person.”

  He could see Jessie was getting what he was telling her, because she stopped fiddling with her hair and just let the breeze play with it. She started twiddling her fingers, tapping on her thighs at first, but then she stopped as if his words had some magical way of sinking in, of eliciting some sort of peace within her troubled mind on that messed up day.

  “Jess,” Charlie added. “Think of it this way. The people who don’t survive are the ones who can’t trust and who are afraid to take risks; they are the ones who end up alone watching TV all day or taking drugs or drinking, anything to insulate themselves from others who might prove to be the greatest love or the best friendship or even the best parents or siblings. Look what they are missing. They might think they’re happy, but they’re not. It’s just that they don’t know what they are missing so they continue to move along all day every day living their lives in caves, never connecting with anyone else on any meaningful level. And how more alone can you be than that? Hey?”