***
Chapter Sixteen
Since it was Friday when they flew home, the Drifters cast and crew had a few days off before being expected to show up for the last three days of shooting. To Jessie, it meant a long weekend of waiting and wondering and worrying about Charlie and Dee and wedding plans. She killed some time by going for a drive along the Sea to Sky highway on Saturday, ending up at Whistler, where she stayed in the Keating condo for a night. Sunday, she got up before sunrise and went for a long hike, which helped manage her stress to some degree. She grabbed a sandwich and an almost perfect latte from Whistler’s Rebel on a Mountain Coffee, and she ate and drank while writing a song during the drive back to the city. Instead of going straight home, she decided to end the torture and drove to North Van.
Jessie pulled up into the drive, amazed at the still constant array of mourners and flowers outside the Keating home. A collective yell went up when the ’66 Mustang and its pretty driver were spotted. Jessie was met at the door by Charles, and together they went out to have a look at the flowers, cards, and little gifts, and to meet some of the folks who came to pay their respects to Terri and Jessie, who had become even more legendary and genuinely admired because of the viral video made of her bitter stream of tears at the hospital that tragic night.
There were about 50 or 60 people wandering around outside the Keatings’ wrought iron fence. This had become a destination in Vancouver. Carlotta the housekeeper had been designated the caretaker of the flowers and gifts – as they piled up, she went out to check on them, and she and the gardener or publicist or whoever came around hauled away some of the more fragile items, made a thorough list, and distributed them amongst the foundations, charities, hospitals and seniors’ centers in the city. But they just kept coming – it was quite humbling. Some were clearly wedding gifts – Jessie was touched but also chagrined at the thought of people spending their hard earned money on a wedding that was quite likely not going to be happening.
Surprisingly, people were actually quite shy about meeting the celebrity they’d seen screaming hysterically in the video. They smiled and stayed back for the most part, although a few brave souls mustered up the courage to come up and give Jessie great big bear hugs. After bending and peering at the mementoes for a while, Jessie and Charles stayed and talked to some folks. She bent down and said hello to a boy of about six who shyly cowered behind his mother, but who smiled at her just the same. He didn’t have a clue who she was.
“Hey there,” Jessie said, smiling quietly back at him. He had a mop of red hair and a few scattered freckles, and was wearing big yellow rain boots even though it was a hot sunny day in Vancouver.
“Hi,” he responded shyly. Then, waving a chubby little arm, “Are these all for you?”
“Some, I guess,” she said. “Although I suppose they’re really for a friend of mine.”
“Oh.” Then, “Is your friend going to come out to get them?”
“Well. No, I guess not.”
“Why not?”
“My friend isn’t here.”
“Is your friend a boy or a girl?”
“She’s a girl.”
“Where is she?”
Jessie paused, and then looked up at his mom, who mouthed it’s okay.
Sighing, Jessie said, “Well actually, she died. That’s why people are leaving the flowers and the presents. It’s a kind thing to do when someone dies.”
He cocked his head and looked closely at her. “Oh, I forgot. I remember now.” He was grinning and had put a finger up to his chin in that silly way kids do sometimes.
Jessie looked at him curiously. “You remember flowers from when somebody died?”
He nodded. “Blake died.”
“Who was Blake?” Softly.
“My baby brother.” Curly redhead was smiling as if he didn’t quite get the enormity of the situation. But under that veneer she could tell that he did, that the adults around him had suffered enough that he, too, knew something about the finality of death, at a much younger age than when Jessie experienced that rude life lesson for the first time.
Ahhhh. Nobody gets out of this life intact, she thought. She smiled again, and looked up at his mom with a questioning eye. “Did I see you looking at that teddy bear over there?”
“It’s not really a teddy bear. It’s a frog stuffie.”
“So it is…I was wondering if you’d like to take that frog stuffie home. I get the feeling he’s kind of lonely on the street out here.” Again, a look to mom.
The mom nodded, and squeezed her son’s hand tight. The son inhaled quickly and loudly – he quite liked that frog stuffie.
“Really?”
“Sure, kiddo. He’s all yours.”
“But what about your friend?”
“She’ll be glad that frog stuffie has a new home.”
“Thank you!” And suddenly there were the smallest chubby little arms around Jessie’s neck. She caught herself chuckling with surprise and pleasure.
“Awesome,” she laughed, pleased. “I am glad you can take care of him for us.” She squeezed back. Geez, it feels good to be hugged. She was almost twenty-eight. Jessie caught herself wondering whether she would ever have children and, if so…well, she hoped they’d look like Josh. That was now a given.
She stood up and gave the mom a big hug too. “He’s adorable,” she swooned. “What’s his name?”
“Frankie,” the redheaded mom answered. Then, because this seemed to be a safe place where you could talk about people who died, she added, “Blake was two. He drowned, actually.” She took a deep breath.
Jessie nodded in sympathy. “I’m really sorry Frankie lost his baby brother.” She realized that perhaps a lot of people here today had experienced pain and loss. Maybe that was why they came – suddenly she didn’t feel so alone, and it didn’t so much feel like people were staring at her anymore. Instead, she felt like one of many who lost people she loved.
The mom tilted her head nervously as Frankie pulled on her hand – he was ready and anxious to retrieve the frog stuffie. “Blake fell in the pool. We - my husband and I – both thought the other was watching him. Talk about learning to communicate in a marriage…” She drifted off into a dark place with bad memories.
Jessie pressed her hand lightly. There was nothing to say.
The mom caught herself and gasped. “Oh! I almost forgot – Happy Wedding, Jessie.” She was puzzled at the distracted look that passed over Jessie’s face, but Jessie forced a small smile.
“Thank you.” It was a whisper. Charles was crouched nearby, his back to her but still within earshot as he leaned over the flowers to grasp the frog stuffie for Frankie. Jessie almost wished she could go have coffee with this young mother. She felt like they’d have lots to talk about. In the end, she gave her another small hug and whispered, “Thank you for coming.” She asked Charles to take a picture of her with the mom and Frankie, with the frog stuffie front and center, and all three were grinning as the older man handed the mom back her cell.
As they wandered away together, Jessie slipped her arm around Charles’ waist. She was feeling a little better now, and had managed to start eating again, but she still had a difficult task ahead of her. She bit the bullet and they went in, with Jessie waving and murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ to the folks outside one last time.
***
Jessie found Dee at the kitchen island going over seating plans for the wedding. The color drained from the singer’s face as she dropped her car keys on the granite countertop. Charles went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He raised one in offer to Jessie but she shook her head and swallowed.
“How was Whistler, honey?” Dee asked as she moved little miniature nametags around her diagram. She was relieved that Jessie seemed to be looking a little better, although she was certainly still quite pale.
“Great,” Jessie mumbled, dropping down in one of the high-backed leather stools. “I wrote a new song,” she added quietly.
Charles glanced over at her and frowned. She was the picture of doom. It must’ve been because of all the people outside, the overwhelming show of generosity, the little boy who lost his baby brother. Although a new song from Jessie was always good news, of sorts.
Jessie inhaled a deep lungful of air and pulled out the stool next to her. Scrape, it went across the floor. She looked up at Charles. “Please sit,” she breathed.
Deirdre glanced up from the seating plan, her hands freezing in mid-air. She set down the miniature nametags and glanced across at her husband, who slugged back some beer and then sat, as asked.
It was just one sentence, and then the hardest part would be over. Jessie would not allow herself to break down. The woman outside had lost a child, her child, a baby boy. That was serious shit. This wedding was just some weird spectacle, entertainment for the masses.
It came out in a fast-paced whisper, so low both Charles and Dee had to lean forward in order to hear.
“HowcanImarrysomeonewhenIaminlovewithsomeoneelse?”
Charles, a music producer, and as thus half deaf, had to ask to hear it again and so she had to repeat the question.
“How - can - I – marry – one man - when - I - am - in - love - with – another man?” This time it came out in great gulps. So much for promising herself she wouldn’t break down into a smushy pile of Atlantic jellyfish. Jessie leaned her elbows on the counter and tried to breathe in but she was close to hyperventilating. Charles reached down and moved the seating plan aside. Dee held her breath.
That was it. That was all Jessie could handle. What a week. She wanted Josh, and that was that. Oh, to be with Josh at Benny’s dairy bar sitting in the back of his pick-up truck watching the sun set over the Pacific. She broke down completely, finally, and for ten minutes straight she sobbed at the Keating kitchen island while Charles put his arm around her and looked up at Deirdre, completely taken aback.
Deirdre let the tears come, too – she was a rock, but here was her girl of almost eight years now, finally showing some real feeling, coming to her and Charles for support. She ached at the depth of emotion flooding her belly, and reached down and grasped Jessie’s shaking, wet hands, and soothed her as best she could. After all, Dee wasn’t really surprised.
When Jessie calmed down and wiped the wetness from her eyes, Charles got up and made the ladies a pot of green tea with lemon. He handed Jessie a pretty teacup with pink flowers on it and asked about Charlie. Dee threw him a scolding look.
“I’m just wondering if he’s aware – is that why he left Ashland unannounced?”
“Is he aware of what?” Dee asked critically.
“About Jessie, and…” He looked at her crazily. “Exactly who is this other man?”
Dee rolled her eyes and Jessie tried not to smile as she hugged her teacup.
“Have you been living under a rock?”
This time it was Charles who shot Dee a dirty look.
Jessie broke the tension. “It’s Josh, Charles,” she said.
He looked like he’d been hit with a large rock. “Oh,” he said, and sat down again, looking rather grave, Jessie noticed.
The ladies sat quietly sipping their tea and Charles his beer before Jessie found the nerve to speak again. “I realize that not everybody out there knows the truth about Josh, but he’s a really good guy, you know. He’s been clean for more than a year now, and he’s the kindest, most gentle person I know.”
“I hear he’s got a feature film this summer,” said Dee, quietly.
“Yeah, that’s true, I mean he’s really doing well. He’s an amazing actor, as I’m sure Jonathon’s told you.”
Dee and Charles exchanged glances again. Should they try to salvage this wedding? Maybe there was some ammunition they could use. Dee shook her head at Charles, but Jessie caught the look.
“What?” she questioned. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”
The older couple was silent for a moment as they pondered what to say and how to say it. Then, from Charles, “Jessie, did you ever wonder how Josh got that job on Drifters?”
She could feel the rug slowly being pulled from underneath her flip-flopped feet. Jessie shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs inside. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any truths about Josh other than what she really wanted to know.
Dee groaned as Charles went on, and she laid her head on her arms, which she had crossed on the countertop.
“Think about it, Jessie. He was on his third stint at rehab, was constantly fist-fighting with his father.”
“C’mon, Charles, not constantly - once or twice, mebbe.”
“And, only a few months clean, he got cast in a lead role in one of the biggest series ever shot in Canada.”
She shrugged it off. “He’s a good actor. A great rider!”
“He was virtually untested, apart from a stint in that Disney film when he was a kid.”
“So?” she asked, but her stomach was suddenly in knots. “What of it? I’m sure he auditioned and earned the part.” She set down her teacup. “Don’t try to tell me he slept his way into the part, because I know Jonathon’s not gay and I’m pretty sure he’s not into weird threesomes, either.”
Deirdre quietly stepped into the fray. “Charles, I’m not sure this has any bearing on Jessie’s affection for Josh.”
“Sure it does,” Charles answered. “He’s fly-by-night. Charlie’s the real deal. He’s here to stay.” He always had a way of saying exactly what he felt. That is probably why he is such a successful producer, Jessie thought abstractly. But it annoyed her now.
“Well, would you mind sharing this mind-blowing information with me?” Jessie asked. Not that it’s going to change a thing, she told herself.
Dee broke the news. She took Jessie’s hand and held it gently. “Josh got cast because Jonathon is his father.”
They gave her a second to digest the news. Sure, Jessie thought wildly, maybe there is some similarity if you really look closely, but – well, that explains why Wes Sawyer has always hated Josh. This was news. But still –
“He’s a fucking awesome actor, you guys.” In other words, Fuck you. I don’t care how he got the part or who his father is. Then – geez. “Does Josh know?”
The room suddenly got quiet. Only the refrigerator’s bumps and clangs echoed throughout. Guess that’s a nope.
“Oh, hell,” Jessie said. That’ll be a helluva secret to keep. She moaned and started twisting ringlets in both sides of her hair at once.
“Honey,” Dee said, leaning towards Jessie and grasping her fingers. “The thing is, maybe Josh is a good actor. But Charles is right. He’s not really a keeper. He’s volatile, and fragile. So the thing is, even if you’re certain about your feelings for him at this time, it could change. If…” She inhaled deeply. “If you are absolutely certain you don’t want to marry Charlie, then make that decision based on the right reasons. Not because of the affection for your co-star.”
Oh, Dee, Jessie thought miserably. She mustered up some courage and Dee saw the change come over her. “I’m not attracted to him, Dee. I’m in love with him. I wasn’t functioning with Charlie. I wasn’t really – alive – when I met him. I was a ghost of a person, and then time just kept ticking away and there we were, suddenly like seven years in and marriage just seemed like the logical thing. Dee, when I met Josh it was like I got struck by lightning, it was that fast, I swear, like some old cliché. I knew it the day I met him, I knew it when I started Drifters; I’ve always known it, Dee. Hell, why do you think I went to TV in the first place? I took the job because of Josh, Dee.”
Unexpectedly, Dee found herself smiling. This was something, that Jessie was really sharing her feelings with them. It was a rare and special moment, no matter how much cancelling the big wedding was going to deplete their vast pocketbooks.
Jessie went on as Charles watched Dee, grinning stupidly because he knew how much Jessie’s opening up to them would mean to his wife.
“I me
an…Dee, I loved a boy once. I mean – really loved him, even though we were young. And he – well, he died, Dee.”
“Sandy,” Dee said softly.
Jessie sighed and took a sip of tea. Dee could see how hard this was for her – she almost tipped the teacup over, her hands were shaking so hard. “Yeah, Sandy,” she said. She set the teacup down and looked deeply into Dee’s eyes. “He died,” she said more firmly. “But I remember how much I loved him. I never loved Charlie that way, Dee. I just accepted him and went along with him, and he showed me off and he cheated on me - often. I’ve found that feeling again, Dee, well – not even just that feeling, but something even more incredible and real and amazing. And I ask you again, I beg you to tell me, how can I marry one man when I am in love with another?”
Dee squeezed Jessie’s hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it, her eyes bright with tears.
“We’ll work it out, honey,” she said. “This, too, shall pass.”
Charles was his usual blunt self. He took a big swig of his beer, draining the bottle. “I expect,” he said, “that’s how Josh ended up getting born in the first place. Out of love. And I guess that’s not such a bad thing, being in love.” He grinned across the table at his wife of many years. “Only maybe you and he will have better luck staying together than Jonathon and Josh’s mother did. Their romance ended pretty much in tragedy, I’d say.”
“Charles,” Dee admonished, with a wary eye towards Jessie.
Fear tore through Jessie’s gut as she remembered Sandy, and terror struck her heart. No. No more tragedy, she begged to whoever might be listening in the universe. Dee saw the panic cross her face, and she glared once again at Charles. They’d learned a bit about their girl here tonight, but not nearly enough, and now there were secrets on both sides that would someday beg to be told.
But not tonight. Tonight they ought to start making phone calls, first to Charlie’s parents, the kindly Jack and Lydia Deacon, who would be heartbroken at the news, and then to Janet, the publicist, to arrange a meeting for tomorrow. There would have to be a thousand arrangements cancelled, and silence would have to rule until they were ready to make this rather shocking news public. One thought occurred to her as she went off to pour them more tea.
A Song For Josh, Drifters Book One Page 31