My Star, My Love

by Natasha Boyd

  “So I heard. You’re a sweetheart for giving him the work.” She set him at arm’s length, inspecting him head to foot.

  “Of course,” he assured her. “Though, I think he helps me out more than the other way around.”

  Mrs. Eversea clucked and looked past Jack to catch my eye. I suddenly realized I was more nervous about meeting this lady who’d saved Jack’s life once upon a time than I was his mother. “So,” she said seriously and looked between Jack and me as he stepped to the side, putting a hand on my elbow about to introduce me. “This is the girl you’re going to marry?”

  There was an instant of silence and the loud clattering of a spoon Charlotte was holding.

  My heart seemed to stop and give one long, loud, thud.

  And then Jack let out a sound. A cross between a breath and a laugh. Strangled and torturous.

  A sound that gouged meat hooks into my heart. Painful.

  “Oh, one day,” said Charlotte, casually picking up the spoon. “They’re still young. Keri Ann still has college.”

  Charlotte. I could kiss her. But had Jacked talked to her about it? Had she talked him out of it? Into it? If indeed that was what he was planning. Aaaah, God, my head was reeling, my heart thudding.

  Jack still hadn’t said anything.

  Jack, still hadn’t said anything.

  Shit, this was my queue.

  Since Jack was still standing in the minefield afraid to move, I stepped forward. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Eversea. I’m Keri Ann Butler. Jack’s told me so much about you.”

  “Ha! That accent! I could listen to you all day. Come here,” she said and pulled me into a hug that smelled of violets and laundry detergent. “You’re a brave girl putting up with his shenanigans.” She released me. “Don’t know how you do it. All those blasted photographers. Absolute vultures, the lot of them.” She huffed and backed up her larger frame into the kitchen chair. “Don’t you dare let him tie you down ’til you’re good and ready. Give the boy a chance to get his life a bit steadier too.”

  Charlotte set two steaming mugs on the table. “Here’s some tea for you both, you look frozen to the bone.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said and pulled out two chairs for us.

  “Uh, do you mind if I take my tea upstairs? I need to call my brother and let him know I made it here safely.”

  Jack aborted his movement to sit down. “I’ll come up and get you my phone.”

  “That’s okay. You stay and catch up.” I kissed him on the cheek and gave everyone a cheerful smile. “I can manage.”

  Jack nodded and sat. He added milk and two spoons of honey to my tea and handed it to me. “We had a ‘run in’ with a bull,” he said to Charlotte and Mrs. Eversea and launched into our story as I quietly went upstairs. I would have actually liked to stay and be a part of that, but the need to be alone for a moment to clear my head was too overwhelming.

  That’s exactly what I was. Overwhelmed. I hadn’t realized how much until right in that moment in the kitchen. I’d felt the full weight of the love his family had for him and the nervousness I felt about being accepted by them. And of course, the unspoken issue of our future. Jack was done filming in Savannah. He’d stayed as long as possible but had been back in Los Angeles doing post-production and voiceover work for sound issues. Soon, he would be on a publicity tour for the movie, and he was already in the planning stages of another movie he was scheduled to be in, shooting down in Uruguay. I’d been putting all of this out of my head, just making it through to the end of the semester and looking forward to having Jack all to myself for three weeks over Christmas break.

  But I didn’t have him to myself, not really. It wasn’t just being here with his mother and Jeff and Mrs. Eversea. It was all the other weirdness Jack seemed to carry around with him here.

  I grabbed Jack’s phone off the dresser and sat on the end of the squeaky bed to dial my brother’s number.

  IT WAS LATE, and I lay awake in the large cold bed alone. Apparently, Jack had left in Charlotte’s car sometime during my phone conversation with Joey and still wasn’t home. I’d stayed up as late as possible with Charlotte and Jeff. Jeff was charming and gruff, a handsome man with silver hair and friendly blue eyes. We’d had dinner and played scrabble but time ticked on. I was worried sick, as we all were, especially as he didn’t have his phone. Charlotte asked me twice if Jack and I were okay. Which was acutely embarrassing, despite the fact I knew she only meant it in the way of a concerned mother whose son has run off and she wants to make it right.

  Finally, Nigel called and told us that Jack had called him from Hastings. He’d had too much to drink and couldn’t drive Charlotte’s car home and had asked Nigel to go and get him. It was over an hour’s drive away.

  Concern gave way to anger and simmered away inside me.

  I heard the sound of a car on the gravel sometime after midnight. The dull thud of the front door. The murmuring voice of Jeff, clearly upset we’d had to get ourselves so worried. The trudge of a heavy booted foot up the creaking stairs and hallway to our bedroom. And past our bedroom toward the Blue Room. Was he fucking serious, right now?

  I slapped back the covers and ran straight to the bathroom and through it to the door on the other side, wrenching it open. I stood, my chest heaving as Jack froze halfway in from the hall.

  The Blue Room was smaller than ours by far and had a single bed coming out from one wall, and an armchair in the other. Jack dominated the space.

  He squeezed his eyes shut at the sight of me and pressed the door closed behind him, sealing us in.

  I could smell the whisky across the ten feet separating us.

  “Not tonight, please,” he muttered, slurring. He was still in his jeans and shirt he’d worn earlier and a pair of heavy, undone lace up boots. “You’re mad. You have every right to be mad. I didn’t want to wake you and have you be… more mad.” He swayed, and I unfolded my arms on a sigh and stepped toward him.

  “I’m fine.” He staggered back from me.

  “Jack, just let me help you. Okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said again and stumbled toward the bed where he fell face down, his feet off the end.

  I stood still a moment, the energy behind my anger completely gone. Then I went down on my knees to loosen his boots and pull them and his socks off. I took a moment to press a kiss to my fingertips and transfer it briefly on the small sea turtle that was inked into the skin of his foot. Jack stirred and turned his head, his eyes finding mine and watching me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. Then he closed his eyes.

  Standing, I grabbed a blanket that was draped over the corner armchair and laid it over his body. His breathing was already deep and even. He’d need water.

  I went back to our bedroom, pulled my shoes on, and headed downstairs in my flannel pajama pants and long sleeved Henley.

  Charlotte and Jeff were at the kitchen table, talking in low voices. I stopped, uncomfortable. “Sorry, I was just going to get Jack some water.”

  She smiled at me in welcome, and Jeff cleared his throat and got up. “I’m heading to bed. Early start again.” He leaned down and kissed Charlotte’s forehead. “I’ll be glad come the weekend, then a nice break for Christmas. Good night, Keri Ann,” he said as he went past me.

  I walked to the table and sat down. “Does he always act like this when he’s here?” I asked. “Disappearing off and coming home drunk?”

  Charlotte sighed. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Not really. Not since we’ve been together anyway.” I twisted my fingers. “He says he finds it hard to be here, in England. Maybe that’s what it is.”

  “Maybe. I also think he’s feeling insecure.”

  “About what?”

  “You, I would imagine.”

  “Me?” I asked, taken aback. “Why?”

  “Honey, I’ve never seen Jack in love before. There was this girl in New York, when we lived there, a silly teenage crush. Not
that there weren’t other girls, mind you. But it’s the only other time in his life I’ve seen him close.”

  Sharp jealousy pricked at me.

  Charlotte fiddled with the edge of a placemat still on the table. “But of course, he was young and she barely acknowledged his presence,” she was quick to add. “He’s never given his heart away easily. He’s always been closed up so tight; I wondered how on earth he’d survive in Hollywood. It still baffles me. But I’ve come to realize he literally has two personalities. One he’s created, and the one he is inside. I worry that his outside one has reinforced the feeling he doesn’t believe he has much to offer anyone beyond glitz and glamour.” She took a sip from her mug.

  I sat still, hanging on her every word.

  “I’m sure that’s one of the reasons you and he work so well together. That’s the one part you have zero interest in. But I’m wondering if perhaps that could also be part of the problem.”

  My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that you’ve given him direction and meaning and become such a large part of his life I think it’s made that other part of him even emptier. Made him aware of what it would mean for him if you suddenly weren’t there for some reason. If he… lost you. I think it terrifies him.”

  My heart squeezed. I thought of how I shut down conversations about our future all the times he brought them up. Not because I didn’t want a future with him, but because I felt if we fixed our future too tight, it was more likely to break. We needed wiggle room. Flexibility to grow and change together. I just wanted to take things a step at a time. Make sure I wasn’t losing myself and my dreams along the way. “I get scared when he brings up our future,” I admitted. “You said it yourself, I’m still young. I still haven’t figured out my dreams, beyond my art and finishing school. I’m scared I’ll wake up in a few years and be in this life he created for us and have had no hand in what it looks like. I want to make sure we are living and growing together, shaping our dreams together. And he needs to be in California for his career and…” I swallowed as I geared up to admit the truth out loud. “I hate it there, Charlotte. I hate who he is there. I can’t stand seeing him don that weird empty facade and pretend he likes half the people I know he hates. I don’t ever want to live there.” There, I’d said it. God, I was so selfish. I just wanted Jack to fit into my life and not fit into his. My eyes burned with the urge to make tears.

  Charlotte squeezed my hand. “So you don’t really accept that part of his life?”

  “I’m never going to relish getting spied on and misquoted. Let alone, get over the insecurity I feel every time I go out with people, wondering if I’m good enough for him. But I do accept that part of his life, or I wouldn’t be here with him. I haven’t done a very good job of proving that though, have I?”

  “Maybe he does need to know you can exist in both of his worlds. And you know what? You are young, but your words tell me you are probably a lot wiser than your years. I feel sure you two will get it worked out.”

  I sniffed and nodded. “Thank you.”

  She smiled and patted my hand.

  “So what’s in Hastings?” I asked. “Is that where his friend from school lives who Nigel mentioned?”

  “Yes. Max. I didn’t realize they’d gotten back in touch, but I for one am happy to see him reintegrate parts of his old life with his new life. He’d cut all ties, you know? Refused to even acknowledge his childhood here. Max is a good sport, owns an old house by the fishing docks in Hastings that he’s turned into a successful restaurant and inn.”

  “So them getting back in touch won’t blow Jack’s identity then? Aren’t you worried they’ll come and harass you?”

  She laughed. “I’m sure people would care for about a split second, but then who’s going to give a toss what some over-the-hill lady like me is doing down here in the middle of the countryside on a daily basis? I think Jack cares more than I do, frankly. But anyway, it’s been wonderful in the sense that he has this safe place to come to where no one would ever think to look. That would be gone. I think that’s why we’ve all worked hard to keep it hidden so long. But anyway, Max is a good chap. I can’t imagine him ever telling anyone Jack’s real name. They’ll just think he had a celebrity friend. That’s all.”

  I failed to hold in a huge yawn.

  “Oh me too, look at the time.” Charlotte glanced at the delicate antique-looking watch on her wrist. “Jeff and I are going up to London tomorrow, together. I need to do some last minute shopping, and we’re due for dinner with friends. We’ll be back the following morning. Is that all right? Will you two be all right here for meals and what not?”

  Alone.

  With Jack.

  For twenty-four hours.

  I could have kissed her. As it was, I hugged her good night and took a glass of water for Jack. Tomorrow I needed to sort things out between us, lay some of Jack’s fears to rest, and get naked with him as soon as possible.

  SLIPPING INTO THE darkened room, I left the door to the lighted bathroom open so I could see where I was going with Jack’s water. It was a good thing I was wide awake on American time because I had a lot to figure out in my head.

  We were three days into our three weeks together, including travel time, and things weren’t going the way I’d imagined. We’d been desperate for this time together. The last few months had consisted of intense moments stolen from our otherwise single and busy lives, him with work, me with school. The few weekends we’d managed were focused and protected from the outside world by going to extraordinary lengths, and we’d never addressed anything beyond our happiness to be together. The island of Daufuskie near my hometown resort of Butler Cove had been a destination more than a few times due to its difficult access. And Jack didn’t have a problem flying. Perhaps we’d put too much pressure on ourselves. Jack had gone running from us today, but I wasn’t necessarily mad. I recognized my own culpability in the situation.

  In the early days I’d had to watch as each new week brought another random woman from the pages of media sensationalism, claiming to have had a piece of the cheating Jack Eversea. Mostly, we’d tried to avoid seeing any media, but it was almost impossible. Jack’s reputation as a cold and careless Lothario grew stronger with each publication, and our spirits had dimmed in response. Trying to believe it was all lies had put my heart and my pride through an unimaginable house of horrors last summer. But seeing how each new article hurt Jack had definitely solidified the fact we were in it together. I thought we’d grown stronger since then, but perhaps we really hadn’t. Perhaps, I hadn’t.

  I set the water down gently, so caught up in my thoughts, I jumped as a warm rough hand clasped mine.

  Jack was watching me from where he lay the same way I’d left him. Face down but with his head turned to the side. Light from the bathroom sliced across his face, illuminating his glassy green eyes and dark stubbled jaw. His soft brown hair glinted, and I itched to slide my fingers through it.

  “You scared me.” I breathed out a small laugh. “I brought you some water.”

  He blinked slowly, and his hand squeezed mine gently. “I often wonder,” he whispered so softly I leaned closer to hear, “what would have happened if Audrey’s story had come out before you decided we were worth a shot.”

  I swallowed, heavily. “What do you mean?” Audrey’s story of Jack cheating on her with me, as well as countless other women, had hurt. Despite it all being lies, she’d won the sympathy of celebrity gossips everywhere when she claimed the stress of it had made her lose their baby.

  “I mean… I don’t think we’d be together.”

  “Jack,” I said, my voice catching. “What are you saying?” I sank to my knees on the floor by his bed, close to his head.

  “Not on my part, baby, don’t worry.”

  “So on my part then?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond, just watched me in the darkened room, his gaze heavy on my heart.

  I shifted toward him more
and pressed my hand against his back, the warmth of his body seeping through his shirt, trying to understand where this was coming from. Then I gave in to the need to slide my fingers through his silky hair. “Jack?” My voice was confused and thready.

  He closed his eyes in a long blink. “I often thank my lucky stars you are so good at doing things you set out to do,” he said quietly, opening his eyes again. They were deep and shining and settled on me. “Determined to stick by your decisions. I’m always grateful you picked us before the shit hit the fan. I’m not sure you would have if the shit had hit first.”

  A huge lump materialized in my esophagus. I drew my hand from his hair, confused by what he was saying or why. Thinking back on that time was hard. We’d gone through so much. But I knew in my heart, I would have always picked Jack. He knew it too. Surely.

  “You’re drunk, Jack.” I shook my head.

  “Would you have?” he pressed, his eyes suddenly revealing his vulnerability.

  My heart heaved. How long had he been feeling this? Had I just not seen it?

  “Would you have fought for me?” he asked.

  I thought back to the moments when I’d let doubt creep in, even before the scandal had thrown our lives upside down. I knew my indecisiveness about giving Jack another shot hadn’t made for the most convincing case, but what did he expect? Of course I’d needed time to get my head and my heart aligned. Life wasn’t a movie script where someone said the one magic word or phrase that erased all doubt and misconception and suddenly everyone understood and all was forgiven. We’d gone through this. I thought we’d moved past it.

  “Do you even want to be with me? Or will it cause too much publicity to break it off?”

  I inhaled sharply. Knowing he was coming from a vulnerable and scared place took the edge off, but it still stung.

  “Never mind. Don’t answer that.” Jack breathed out and rolled onto his back. He brought his hands up and tucked them under his head, his soft T-shirt stretching over his chest and rising up to reveal a strip of taut abdomen.