by S. L. Scott
The air at LAX is thick with notoriety. Paparazzi are swarming the airport. I’m glad I shaved on the plane, but I wonder if I would have gone unnoticed if I’d kept the beard.
Security surrounds me, but it won’t be enough. I’ve played this game too long to know that four guards won’t stand a chance against them. We’re pushed. One guard is called a name. I turn my music up, hoping to block the sounds of ‘adultery’, ‘love child’, and ‘Sebastian’ that are shouted at me. A cab is waiting for me, the door wide open. One of the perks of fame.
I call Holliday’s mom as soon as we leave the airport. She answers after the first ring, “Jack?”
“I’m in LA. Where is Holliday?”
“I heard from her an hour ago, but your phone doesn’t have voicemail so I couldn’t leave a message.”
My determination to get to her kicked in before we hung up back in Wyoming. I’m indomitable now. “Where is she?”
“I’ll tell you where she is, but I’m only telling you because she needs you right now. If you go out there to hurt her—”
“I won’t, Marilyn. Now where’s ‘out there?’”
“Ojai. She’s at the property.”
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I say, “I should’ve known. I’m going straight there. Don’t tell her. I think it’s best if I see her first. How is she?”
“Okay health wise, but other than that, I’m not sure.” She huffs as if she can’t stop this, so she gives in. “I trust you to make this right, whatever is right for her.”
There’s no wavering on my part. “I only want what’s best for Holliday.” She’s the only thing that matters anymore.
“Be careful, Jack, and safe travels.”
“Thanks.”
My phone rings as soon as I hang up with Marilyn. “Hello?”
“So you’re back in LA, I see,” Rochelle says, all knowing.
“News travels fast.”
“The press works that way. You’re all over the online gossip sites.”
“I’m going to see Holliday, Rochelle.”
She sounds anxious. “You know where she is?”
“Yes,” I reply. “Would you have told me?”
“I would have if I believed you were ready and she was ready to see you.”
“Do you believe we are?”
The silence indicates she’s thinking. “Yes.” There’s another pause, then she says, “You don’t have to figure out life apart. You can do it together. Life is fucking hard. I know that more than anyone, but it’s so worth it when you have someone by your side going through it with you.”
“I don’t know if she’ll take me back.”
“And you won’t until you try. I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. But I’m just the fool who let her get away in the first place.”
“Holli’s a great girl. She’s level-headed, but her heart sure is weak to you. I think you two will be fine. Just be kind to one another and leave your ego behind.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye.
I tip the cabbie well. He’s earned it for driving me out here. When he drives off, I walk up to the gate and punch in the code. After shutting it behind me, I stop, standing there looking at the house up on the hill. I’ve been away from her for too long and don’t want to wait any longer. I jog up the rest of the way. The house is dark from the front, so I head for the back, choosing to go in that way instead. My heart rate picks up with each step as I approach. My palms are sweating by the time I round the corner, nervous what the night holds for me. I’m anxious to finally see Holliday after all of these months and I hope she doesn’t kick me out. The fire in the pit on the patio grabs my attention and then I spot her. I stop, holding my breath, and stand there.
The top of her head is seen just above the back of the Adirondack chair she’s sitting in. The wind is blowing lightly and strands of her hair float above her head highlighted by the soft light on the back of the house. Her feet are propped up on the stone surrounding the fire, her gaze focused up at the sky. I follow and look up. The stars are out, millions to be seen. Something I’ve always loved about this property is how you can see them so clearly at night without the distractions of the city.
I take a harsh breath. I want to go to her, to touch her, to be near her, but I hold myself back, which feels a lot like I’m stabbing my own heart. I set my bag down and move closer, but keep a distance so I don’t scare her. I say, “Our bodies are stardust to bare. I left you when you should have been the one to part. Your beauty haunts me for the stars can’t compare. The morning light gives us a new start.”
For a few intolerable seconds, she doesn’t move, but then she sits forward and turns around. Her eyes are shining, the stars little reflections in her tears. When she looks down, she wipes them, seeming to be embarrassed to feel this much. When she looks up again, she asks, “Do you think morning can still bring a new start?”
“I hope so.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you and the baby.” I know I’m leaving myself open for a harsh comeback, but I’ll take whatever she throws at me and let her get it out. I deserve worse.
But she doesn’t throw sarcasm or hate or even anger. Her hand covers her stomach and she stands. My eyes go to her middle. Her shirt is loose, so I can’t see any changes, but I can see it in her face. It’s thinner. She’s more beautiful than any other woman could even try to be, but tired. Then she uses something much more dangerous on me—kindness. “We’ve waited a long time for you.”
We’re standing just ten feet apart, but it feels like I have an ocean to trudge through to get to her. “If I…” I look down, ashamed. “If I could take it all back, I would. I lost faith in the one person that would never betray me.”
Her head drops and she starts crying.
I take a step closer, not wanting to invade the space I forfeited months earlier. “Hollida—”
Looking up, tears streak down her face, she says, “After all you did, all you did to hurt me and this baby, you show up here after months of being gone, months of not calling and all I want to do is hug you. What is wrong with me? You’re the last person I should want to hug right now. But here you are and my heart is beating again and just seeing that you’re safe and healthy, and so damn annoyingly handsome that I want to run to you, but how do I push all the pain you put me through away?”
“You don’t. I don’t deserve you and you’d be smart not to ever talk to me again, but despite wanting to protect you and your personal space all I want to do is wrap my arms around you and kiss you.”
She takes a step closer and I take another. Then I take a chance and close the distance. I can’t resist her anymore. I hold her as tight as I can in my arms for as long as she’ll let me. It’s not nearly long enough. She pushes off gently and walks to the other side of the fire pit. With her arms crossed, her weight shifts to her right and she stares at me. “I’m really mad at you, Dalton.”
“You should be.”
With the back of her wrist, she swipes it across her face collecting the last of the reflective tears from her skin. Raising her chin, she says, “Why are you here now?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“Be specific.”
“I know the baby’s mine.”
“Oh wow,” she snarks, rolling her eyes, “you got all that without a paternity test? I thought for sure I’d receive a court order to prove who the father is.”
Shot one to the heart. I’ll take each and every one though because she hasn’t kicked me out yet. “I know you didn’t sleep with that model.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.”
She shakes her head, getting annoyed. “You didn’t know me when you came charging onto the film set, insulted me, humiliated me, then left me?”
“I have no excuses. I can’t exp
lain where my head was at, Holliday. I saw those photos and—”
“I could have explained those photos if you would have given me a chance.” She looks me in the eyes, and says, “I shouldn’t have taken the ride. I said no, but felt pressured into it. To me it was harmless, but out of respect for you, I will apologize for accepting. The rest was bullshit gossip that you believed.”
“All I knew was my world was spinning out of control and I couldn’t control it—”
“So you decided to destroy it the rest of the way, help it along?”
“You have every right to be mad. I’ll give that to you.”
“You don’t have to give it to me. It’s here, full blown. Oh wait, or is it Johnny to me as well these days?”
“You can hit me with your words or your fists if that will help, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. All of me. All…” I struggle to say the rest, my love for this woman clumped in my throat, wanting to come out, but stuck, just like we are. “I’m nothing without you.”
“You figured that out now? You figured that out by leaving me to go through this pregnancy alone? My friends have stepped in where you left me. I went to appointments by myself. I heard our baby’s heartbeat the first time and every time after without you by my side. I was puking every meal I ate while you were off fucking someone else and ‘finding yourself’, so when you say you are nothing without me, it makes me realize I didn’t have that luxury because I had to be everything for this baby—mother and father. I was preparing to raise this child without you because you ran off to wherever you were this whole damn time.” She turns her back to me and the action hurts just as much as the words. “I don’t need you back, Johnny. We have learned to live our lives without you in it. That’s your doing. That’s your legacy to your family.” Stunned in place, she leaves me, goes inside the house, and slams the door closed.
“No one ever said it would be easy.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I don’t want to fight, so I let it slide when I hear the alert that someone has entered the house. I stay in my room with the door locked, but I can hear him rummaging around the kitchen and watching TV. My attitude is bad right now, my sarcasm at a high. I’m so glad he’s so okay with everything because I’m sure not. Rolling my eyes, I roll over and close them, hoping to sleep.
In the middle of the night, I open the door and sneak out. I tiptoe into the living room and find him asleep on the couch. I click off the TV and take the blanket from the chair to drape over him. Sitting down on the coffee table in front of him, I lean down and tilt my head to the side to look at him, really look at him. It’s been too long.
He’s better looking than any photo or memory can serve. Like me, he has dark circles under his eyes as well and I find comfort in that, like he might have actually lost some sleep too while we were apart. Leaning in even closer, I tuck the blanket over his shoulder and slowly, ever so lightly kiss him on the cheek. I can’t resist. He shifts suddenly and his lips are against mine, his hand on my neck. My eyes close and I stay there, needing this as much as he does. But I come to my senses and stand up quickly, trying to leave. He grabs my hand before I escape and says, “Stay, Baby. I want you to stay.”
I can’t say anything, unsure of the emotions that might come out, so I slip my hand from his and go back to the bedroom. I’m too tired to fight and it’s too soon to make up. I get back into bed and go to sleep instead.
I smell bacon.
Dalton doesn’t cook, so I’m curious as to who is. I slip on my robe and open the door, peeking into the hallway and looking in all directions before I step out. The coast is clear so I continue down the hall and across the living room to the kitchen. Holding onto the corner of the wall, I spy Dalton standing at the stove with his back to me. There’s a plate of bacon next to him and a stack of pancakes plated next to that. I watch as he goes to the fridge and pulls the orange juice out.
Even though I’m starved and the food smells amazing, I’m dumbstruck by the fact that he’s here… and shirtless… and cooking for me. Or maybe he’s cooking for himself. Who knows? I turn around to head back to the bedroom when I realize that many wrongs can be righted by crispy bacon, but our troubles run deeper than an incredible smelling plate of pancakes with extra syrup.
My stomach growls and I rub it, whispering, “I’ll feed you soon, baby.”
“You can feed the baby now, if you like. I cooked breakfast for you, for you both.” I turn around to find him standing there with cooking tongs in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. He holds it out to me. “I didn’t squeeze it, but I bought it for you.”
A reply comes in the form of another growl from my tummy. His eyes lower to my hand. I remove it and loosen my robe just enough to hide the shape of my body, feeling a little uncomfortable. My body has changed in ways that he might not find attractive anymore. I’ve changed in ways he might not find attractive anymore. All my self-doubts about where we stand after all these lonely months hit me. “I should get dressed.”
“You should eat, Holliday.” He references behind him. “I made it for you. I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but please… eat.”
I lick my lips and my bottom one ends up tugged under my teeth in debate. “It smells really good. You’ve never cooked before.”
“I’ve helped you cook before and I can read directions,” he says with a smallish smile that hits my heart full force by its charm.
My head knows better than to fall for his lines this time around. “I’ll eat, but only because I don’t want it to go to waste.”
I straighten my shoulders and take the orange juice from him as I walk by with the intention of getting stuffed. He makes me a plate and then makes one for himself and sits down across from me at the table. I inhale half the pancakes before I feel his eyes on me, drawing mine up to his. With a piece of bacon in hand, I point at him. “Don’t think this makes it all go away. I’m serious.”
“I know you are. But I am too. I’m back and I’m going to put us back together.”
“What if I don’t want to be put back together with you?” I take a big bite of the bacon, but keep my eyes trained on him.
He sets his fork down and rests his arms on the table. “Do you not love me anymore? Has it been that easy to forget me?”
Gulping, I look down not sure if I want to answer that because he’ll see through my strong front, right into my weak heart. But my feistier side has every intention of doing just that. “Easy? The last four and a half months have been the hardest of my life. Everything we said we’d never be, never do to each other, we did. And then when I fly across the country to be by your side, I find another woman has already replaced me. So easy is not the word I would ever choose or ever think of when I’ll think back on this time.” I stand up and add, “Thank you for breakfast.” Wanting to leave before the anger grips me again, I grab one more piece of bacon off my plate and the glass of orange juice and go.
“I hope we’ll be able to talk about this soon. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
Turning back, I say, “Who said I will be?”
His expression falls, taking any hope he held with it. And now I feel bad. I turn back around knowing now is not the time for this discussion. I can’t carry around this much armor if I ever want to find peace.
After a long shower, I get dressed and settle down on the couch for a few hours to recover from eating too much. I’ve been using the paperback in my hands as a cover to sneak peeks at Dalton. He’s been sitting in the chair by the window messing with his phone for the last twenty minutes. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him. I can see the difference in him this morning. Beyond his sweetness toward me, I don’t quite remember his eyes being that green, that vibrant. I’m guessing as time passed without him, they had dulled in my memories. I shift on the couch so he’s not framed so perfectly by the large windows. Trying to get back into my book, I turn the page with irritation, the corner catching my finger, tea
ring into my skin. “Ouch!” I mumble to myself.
The blood pools at the tip and I hold it up when I decide I need a Band-aid. But Dalton’s there taking hold of my hand. “It’s not too bad,” he says, analyzing it, then leans forward wrapping his lips around it.
Holy… the feel of his tongue wrapped around my finger shoots sensations through my body like a current being awakened. I wiggle as nonchalantly as I can as I pull my finger back. The blood is all gone. Gulping, I take my finger back from his gentle grip and look into his eyes. He asks, “Too soon?”
“I’m not sure,” I reply, standing up and maneuvering around him to escape to the bedroom. As soon as I enter the hallway, I lean against the wall, needing to catch my breath. My heart is racing and my mind is a whirlwind challenging my best interest.
“You okay?”
I jump, startled, and so busted by him. He smiles as he stands there, watching me. All flustered, I wave my hands in the air erratically. “I’m fine. Okay. Just fine.” I raise my chin into the air and hurry to the bedroom. As soon as the door closes, I fall against it and instantly lock it behind my back. Putting my hand to my head, I check my temperature because I feel so heated. “Damn him.”
Running to the nightstand, I grab my phone and call Tracy. When she answers, I whisper, “He’s here.”
“Holli? Is that you?”
“Dalton’s here.”
She starts whispering. “Why are we whispering? And oh my God, he’s there? Where’s there? Where are you? At home?”
“He’s here in Ojai. He showed up a few hours after me.”
“When did you get there?” she asks back in normal volume.
“Yesterday. Long story, but Tracy, he’s here and he looks really good and I missed him, but I’m still so mad at him and hurt.”
“Take it slow.”
“I am, but all I want to do is jump him.” Damn him and his tempting tongue. “How am I this horny when I’m pregnant?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. Ask Rochelle about that. All I know is you have to be strong—emotionally and physically. He can’t just waltz back into your life like nothing happened. He owes you an apology or thirty.”