Beyond the Stars

by Stacy Wise

Dad frowns. “He seems okay. I get the feeling he hasn’t seen Meg for a while. He was asking about you girls.”

  “That’s really sad.” I pause, considering what to say next. “Meg won’t talk about him. They got in that huge fight senior year, and then she moved to the apartment with her mom.” I can’t help thinking her father and I have more in common than I thought.

  Dad shakes his head. “It’s been long enough that they should be able to get past a high school argument.”

  “You would think so.”

  He nods. “Yes, you sure would. Pete didn’t know if she was working or going to school.” He pauses to pour a hearty swirl of cream into his coffee. “Where is it that she works? I told Pete she works at a bank, but I wasn’t sure if I got it right. You’ve told me before, but old age has set in, and my brain is like a sieve.”

  Mom pats his arm. “It’s not old age. You’ve never been able to remember a thing.”

  I laugh. “Busted, Dad. She does something or another at a brokerage firm in Beverly Hills. To be honest, I don’t even know what a broker does.”

  My dad looks up from his coffee. “You should know the basics of what a broker does. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to start purchasing some bonds and slowly building your portfolio. We’ll look at the business section of the paper tomorrow morning, and I’ll give you a tutorial on the stock market. I should’ve done it years ago.”

  “Wow, Dad. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” He clearly didn’t pick up on the sarcasm in my voice.

  Mom turns to me. “Meg’s lucky to have you. She’s always been a bit of a lost soul. I admire the way you can see the best in her.”

  My mom has never mentioned before that she thinks Meg’s a lost soul. I wonder what she would say now. That she’s a lost cause? For a moment, I consider telling them everything. I’d probably feel a lot better. But then they’ll get worried, and I can’t do that on Mom’s birthday. I push my chair back and stand. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to head over to Balboa. It’s always so nice in the mornings before the streets get too crowded.”

  We spend a leisurely day strolling the quaint streets of Balboa Island. It reminds me of coming here as a kid. I feel carefree and happy, munching on my Balboa Bar. Meg and all her bullshit are shoved to the recesses of my mind. I’m not going to let her ruin my fun day with my family.

  We wander in and out of stores, taking in the vast assortment of coffee table books, jewelry, and cool wall signs. I find myself lagging behind my parents as I read the positive messages on the wooden plaques that cover the wall. Maybe one will jump out at me, like a sign from the universe, reassuring me that everything will be okay. Being open to receiving the message is the key. I read one that catches my eye: You are my sunshine, with a bright yellow sun painted above the words. I wander by a few more, until my eyes land on one that says:

  Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. –Dr. Seuss.

  My thoughts hone in on Jack. I wish I could get it for him, but it’d be weird to show up with a random gift. But I know he’d appreciate the message.

  A wall plaque that’s probably no more than a four-inch square catches my attention. It says:

  Always be yourself unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.

  I don’t know if it’s the sign from the universe I was looking for, but it makes me laugh out loud—a welcome feeling after the tears and stomach knots last night. Mom walks over to see what I’m giggling about.

  “Which one are you reading?”

  “The unicorn one, right there.” I point to it.

  “That’s funny?”

  “Yeah. It’s cute, don’t you think?”

  “Be a unicorn? Is that a euphemism for something? I don’t get it.”

  “No. It just means to be yourself unless you can be something magical. It’s like being the best part of yourself.”

  “Maybe I’m too old. I still don’t get how it’s funny.”

  “It’s not really funny so much as smile-worthy.”

  “Smile-worthy. Okay. I’m happy to buy it for you if you’d like.”

  “I’d love it. Thanks, Mom. I’ll think of you every time I look at it.”

  She chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re something, Jess.”

  I grin to myself. I don’t care if she doesn’t get it. I do. And I’m going to live by my new credo. I need to focus on the awesomeness in my life and not worry about the little things.

  Colin is at the parents’ house when we return home. His old Chevy Tahoe sits in the driveway, and I rush in to say hi.

  “Jess! What’s up?” He pulls me into a bear hug.

  “Hey, shrimp.” I give him a teasing punch in the arm. Colin’s over six feet tall. He clearly got the height genes in the family.

  Dad steps past me to hug him. “Hi, son. What do you say we put a game on? Enough of this girly shopping crap.” He winks at my mom, who has weaseled her way to Colin and is giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “You can’t steal him so soon. We haven’t gotten the chance to talk yet.”

  “Come on, Mom,” I say, ushering her toward the kitchen. “Let them have their dude time. We can all talk at dinner. I’ll give you a birthday manicure. You can let your nails dry while I cook.”

  After the dishes are cleared and Mom’s birthday cake is long gone, Colin and I sit on the sofa. My parents have gone off to bed. I think having both of us home wore them out.

  “So tell me about your first year. How’s life in the dorms?”

  “It’s great. My roommate’s a good guy. He’s a math major, too, so that’s cool.”

  “Awesome. And how about the girls? How many hearts have you broken so far?” I swear my brother just blushed a little. Blushed. Never in my life have I seen him blush. “Oh, man. You have a crush on someone. Spill.”

  He chuckles to himself. “I kind of like this girl in my statistics class. She’s from Hawaii.”

  “And?”

  “She likes to surf.” He shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but a girl who surfs is my brother’s dream come true. It’s not just a hobby. It’s an obsession with him.

  “Well, that’s a huge bonus. Have you gone out in the water together yet?”

  “No. We’ve studied together. It’s easy to talk to her. She’s really mellow.”

  “Are you going to ask her out?”

  He clasps his hands in front of him and looks down, then turns to me. “I don’t know. I’m kind of intimidated by her. She has this long dark hair and tan skin and deep brown eyes, and I feel like I want to melt around her.”

  I grin. “You’ve got a big crush, little bro.”

  “Any advice?”

  “Yeah. Be yourself. Tell her she has pretty eyes as you’re leaving class then keep walking. Make her wonder about you a little bit. But don’t be an asshole. Always be nice. And don’t act cocky.”

  He smiles at me. “Anything else?”

  “Um, yes. You’re a great guy. So at the end of the day, just be you.”

  “Thanks, Jess. I’ve never really felt this way about someone before. Maybe you’ll get to meet her one day.”

  “I hope so.”

  “What about you? Are you dating anyone?”

  “No. It’s tough meeting people since I’m not in school, you know?”

  “Yeah, that’s rough. So how do you like working for a movie star? Is Jack McAlister a nice guy?”

  “He’s okay.”

  “And?”

  “And…nothing. I don’t know what else to say.” With all the quizzing, Colin seems a lot more like my dad than I’ve ever noticed before.

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s a decent boss, I guess.” I yawn, ready to be finished with this conversation.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You mean do I like him the way you like Hawaii Girl? What’s her name, by the way?”


  “Moana. You didn’t answer me.”

  “Because it’s a ridiculous question. He’s a movie star and my boss, and no. Seriously.”

  “Hey, I’m just asking. Millions of girls think he’s the hottest guy in the universe.”

  I take a second to think before responding. “He is hot. I’ll give you that. But let’s not forget I’m not going to fall for an actor again. Period. Jordan taught me all I need to know. And from what I’ve seen, I think I can safely say that I shouldn’t go anywhere near Jack.”

  “Okay.” He nods. “I hear ya. I don’t know that Jordan represents all actors, but okay.” He gives my arm a little shove. “So you really think I should ask Moana out?”

  “Yes. Just be confident. Girls like a confident dude.”

  The dinging of my phone rattles me out of a deep sleep Sunday morning. I roll over in my childhood bed and peek at the text. I blink, trying to get my eyes to focus on the tiny words. I’m surprised to see it’s from Jack. Can you come over today? I need help with Leo for a few hours.

  Oh, man. I’m not ready to leave yet. Being home with my family has been the salve I’ve needed for my Meg wounds. The thought of getting up and going to work is painful. I push back the pale blue and lavender Hawaiian flower comforter and sit up. Is he okay? What do you need?

  He’s fine. Can you watch him for me?

  From pig chauffer to pig sitter. Neat. Sure. Coming from my parents’ house in OC, so it’ll be at least an hour.

  Didn’t know u were down there. Stay with your fam. I’ll figure out something else.

  I hold the phone in my hand, fully awake now. He wouldn’t ask unless he really needed help. It’s okay. I was going to head back up anyway. :)

  Thanks!!! You’re awesome.

  I look at the words. You’re awesome. He’s said it before, but it seems different in writing. It’s nice.

  I strip out of my pajamas and throw on my jeans and a T-shirt and knot a flannel around my waist. A little concealer helps cover the dark spots beneath my eyes, and I brush on a hint of rosy blusher before finishing with a dash of lip gloss. Satisfied that I look okay enough to appear in public, I go out to tell my parents the news.

  Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table. My dad is reading the world news, and my mom has the food section of the Times spread out in front of her.

  “Morning. I have some sucky news. Jack needs help with something, so I have to leave earlier than planned.”

  “What?” Mom pulls off her tortoise-shell reading glasses. “He expects you to be available on weekends? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “That’s how it is. Anyway, I’m paid double for overtime.”

  “Well, I hope you’re keeping track of the extra hours. I’ve always thought these Hollywood types seem like they live their lives with a sense of entitlement.”

  My skin bristles at her rush to judgment. I’m surprised by my reaction. It isn’t my job to defend Jack McAlister. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to stay longer.”

  “I was hoping you could stay, too. I was just looking at some recipes for Thanksgiving dinner. I’m going to brine the turkey this year. See?” She points to a recipe in the Times. “This bay leaf and lemon brine looks wonderful. Anyhoo, I’ll call you later and we can discuss what you’ll bring.”

  “Sounds good. Is Colin still sleeping?”

  “No, he left early to surf. I’ll tell him you said good-bye.” She stands to hug me. “Can I send you with a bagel or something?”

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  “Drive home safely, sweetie,” Dad says, looking up from the paper. “We’ll have our investment lesson next time. Don’t forget.” He shakes the paper and looks back up at me. “Do you need help with your bag?”

  “No, it’s not heavy.”

  He stands to give me a hug, and I enjoy the comfort of it. Mom hands me a bagel wrapped in a paper towel and kisses my cheek. “We’ll talk soon. Drive safely.”

  “I will.” I head out the door and start the long drive to Jack’s house.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The faint strumming of a guitar greets me as I near Jack’s front door. I lean in closer, trying to determine where the music is coming from. It almost sounds like it’s in the backyard. As I listen, the name of the song drifts into my mind—it’s “One” by U2. It sounds hauntingly pretty on acoustic guitar. I know I should knock, but I can’t bring myself to lift my hand to the door. I strain to hear more and am startled when a raspy voice begins to sing.

  Holy hell. The emotion in the singer’s voice encompasses my entire body. Does Jack have a real-life rock star friend visiting? I know it’s not Bono, obviously, but damn—whoever it is has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. I stand by the door and listen to the rest of the song. He doesn’t sing all the lyrics. Sometimes he just plays. But even the way he coaxes the sound from the guitar is arresting. When he finishes, I feel breathless.

  I snap back to reality and realize I need to let Jack know I’m here. I quickly send him a text, then lean my head in to hear more. This time it’s a song I don’t recognize. I wish Jack would hurry up so I can meet this mystery singer. I could listen to his voice all day.

  The music suddenly stops, and in a few seconds, Jack is at the door. “Hey. Thanks for getting up here today.” He has that sincere look in his eyes again. As much as the singer had me feeling all swoony, the sight of Jack makes me forget about that for the moment.

  I follow him through the house to the kitchen. He takes a couple of glasses from the cupboard and starts to fill them with water. The patio area is visible from where I stand, but I see no one. “I thought I heard a guitar when I was waiting at the door.”

  “You could hear that? I was out on the patio.”

  “That was you?”

  “Yeah, I was just screwing around. I taught myself to play a few years ago. I’m still learning, you know?”

  I picture him sitting on the plush patio sofa in his faded blue jeans and white T-shirt, caressing the guitar strings, and then the smart section of my mind throws water on that image. Stop it. I clear my throat and shake my head. “You sounded great. I thought you had a rock star friend over.”

  He smiles. “That’s really nice to hear. Thanks.” He looks outside and turns back to me. “So I have a situation with Leo.”

  My curiosity is piqued. “What is it?”

  He pulls a barstool over and pats it. As we both sit, he begins. “My next-door neighbor is an animal activist. A huge, PETA-loving, pets-before-people activist. She saw Leo with me when I first got him and started firing off questions, like do I have a permit, do I have the proper housing, and so on. Her questions were starting to piss me off. But the more she talked, the more I saw her point. I didn’t have a clue about what pigs need.” He pauses to sip his water. “I started checking out websites and got a lot of good information. That’s how I knew to get Leo a kiddie pool and what to feed him.”

  I nod, wondering where he’s going with this. “It sounds like you’re doing the right things.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I was feeling pretty good about it. I mean, he’s rooted up an entire side of the backyard, but that’s what pigs do.”

  “Yeah, I have noticed him digging around out there.”

  “He’s made a fucking mess. It’s not his fault; he’s just following his instincts. But Hillary came over this morning and said she wanted to talk about Leo. When I was out yesterday, he apparently raised hell squealing the entire time.”

  An image of a lonely Leo wailing at the door floats into my head. It’s true that he loves to be around people. “Poor little guy.”

  “Yeah. He hates being alone for too long. During the week, he’s fine, because you or Imelda are here, so he has company. That’s why I figured he’d be okay if you were around today.”

  As much as I didn’t want to leave my parents’ house, it makes me happy to know I’ll be helping Leo. Helping Jack.

  “So Hillary asked what my plans
are when I’m shooting this film. She said pigs are social and want to be around humans or other pigs all the time.” He runs a hand through his hair.

  “Does it freak you out because it’s sounding like too much responsibility?”

  He nods, and sadness clouds his blue eyes. “Yeah. And shit… I don’t know what the hell to do. I can’t rely on you or Imelda to entertain him all the time. Hillary said she’d help me find a good pot-bellied rescue place, but I don’t know.”

  “That’s, um…I don’t know. I guess it’s nice that she’s offering to help you, but a little presumptuous, too, right? What if you want to keep him?”

  “That’s the thing. I do want to keep him.”

  Before thinking it through, I say, “I’ll help you with him.”

  His eyes meet mine. “I know. And thanks for getting here today—you’re a life saver. I have a photo shoot that was rescheduled for this afternoon because the photographer has to leave town tomorrow. I actually need to head out now. I’ll text you to let you know when I’m on my way home.”

  I follow him to the door, and a strange longing tugs at me. I swear, sometimes he’s so sweet that I want to hug him. I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t scare me. I shove the thought from my head and turn outside to find Leo. He’s sprawled on the patio. “Well, piggy, it’s just you and me today. I’m totally down with napping if that’s what you want to do.” I slide next to him and wrap an arm around his plump belly. The stone patio is cold, but it feels good. I allow my eyes to fall shut.

  I wake to the dinging of my phone. I glance over and see that Leo has shifted but is still snoozing. Thank God he didn’t wake up and start tearing up the yard. I grab my phone and see a text from Kolbi: Nothing to report on the apartment front, but don’t worry! We’ll find something. I’ll c u tonite.

  U r awesome. Thank you! Xoxo

  As I re-read my text, I realize I used the same words Jack did. I didn’t mean anything by it—it’s just an easy expression. It was stupid of me to feel special when he texted those words to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sometime near five o’clock, Jack’s motorcycle roars up the driveway. Seconds later, he’s walking through the door, helmet in hand. “Hey. How’d it go?” His cheeks are flushed.