Diamond-paned, beveled glass windows that cranked open adorned the front, many without screens. Wooden French doors opened into the little garden, and Jessica wondered if Mac planned to restore the grounds to their original splendor or if they would fall prey to a more convenient design.
Mac snapped his fingers and she turned her head quickly to find his hand outstretched, waiting to help her down from the truck’s elevated cab. "Sorry," she murmured, "I’m dazzled."
Inside, they toured the "modest" 5,000 square foot residence, she in awe and he in critical search of the most current changes effected by his hired craftsmen.
"This is beautiful!"
"This is a mess…"
"I love these windows!"
"They’ll have to fix this sill."
"The kitchen is huge!"
"I’m hungry."
She stopped expounding and turned to Mac. "Hungry?" she asked, not able to comprehend his being hungry in the middle of this incredible home tour.
"Starved. Missed lunch."
Jessica huffed in mock disdain and went to the refrigerator. The kitchen was large and updated, with an island work area in the center and counter space all around. A long breakfast bar behind the sink counters overlooked a tremendous family room, darkened now by heavy draperies and poor lighting.
The refrigerator was, of course, empty but at least cold and running. She turned to Mac and shrugged. "Chinese?"
"Yeah, let’s go," he offered, but Jessica was not yet through here and demanded he show her the rest. The house was somewhat "U" shaped; the kitchen, living and family rooms central and a wing on either side. The "South Wing" included a bedroom identified as Meggie’s, drab and undecorated, but with an appealing layout that would lend itself to an attractive decor; Megan’s bath, adjoining; a maid’s room, another bath, a utility and laundry room.
The "North Wing" had been completed with the recent upgrade. A study came first, a small, cozy, office-style room, rich with mahogany paneling and built-in bookcases. Next down the hall was a small bedroom, freshly painted white but undecorated. Mac’s bedroom was next, a huge suite that also included a bath and dressing room, finished decidedly masculine with antiques and Scottish details. And finally, another large bedroom.
"This would belong to the mistress of the house, if there was one," Mac explained as he threw the door open wide. Inside, Jessica’s heart stopped as she surveyed this last bedroom. A suite in itself, this spacious room was L-shaped and provided a dressing area, large walk-in closet and a bathroom nearly the size of the study. The bath contained both a stall shower and a Jacuzzi tub, and everything appeared to be brand new.
"Oh, Mac…" she whispered, looking around. French doors with lace panels opened into what she supposed was the backyard, and through the fading light she could see a vast, rectangular pool just steps away. Antique furniture adorned the room, a queen-sized, four-poster mahogany wood bed was central, with a large matching mirrored vanity and chair adjacent. Dainty flowered wallpaper matched a feminine patchwork and eyelet comforter and window valances. "This is…just…" She sought words but could find none fitting.
"The bath’s just been added. You’ll have to let me know if the tub works," he said, winking at Jessica, who was emerging from the closet. He then unlocked and pulled open the French doors.
"You want me to try out the tub?" She joined him in the doorway to the yard, then followed him outside.
"The pool isn’t finished, but hopefully by summer…they’re adding a solar heater, new filters, new decking…it’s horribly cracked from earthquakes."
Jessica was still thinking about the splendid bedroom, the Jacuzzi tub and the wink Mac had given her. He means for me to stay in that gorgeous room, she thought, looking mesmerized while she gazed at the pool.
Mac crossed his arms and sighed. "Can we go eat, now?"
His feigned annoyance caused her to look up. Back on her stride, she ignored his question. "What’s that building?" She pointed to a structure that matched the house, about the size of the garage, just beyond the pool.
"The guest house, of course. But there’s nothing to see in there right now. It’s a mess. It’s last on my list." With this comment, he grabbed Jessica by the wrist and pulled her back toward the French doors. "I am starved," he proclaimed firmly, and she allowed him to lead her inside, where he carefully latched and locked the doors.
~ * ~
They rose early on Sunday. Roxie joined them for coffee at 8:30, then they began loading the truck. Between the three of them, they had cleared the house of their possessions, the truck filled and ready to go, by two o’clock. Then the cleaning crew Mac hired arrived, commencing the tedious chore of cleaning and vacuuming.
Jessica had thrown herself into the move with a vengeance, but now that it was time to go, a sadness overtook her and she became suddenly quiet, checking the closets and cupboards again and again.
"Well, I’ll see you at Mac’s. I have the address," Roxie announced, waving a slip of paper on which Jessica had scribbled directions. She raised her eyebrows in question, but Jessica only nodded vaguely and turned back toward the bedroom again. Mac shrugged and followed her as Roxie took her leave.
"Tough, huh?" he asked softly, standing close behind her as she stared out the window toward the pool.
"Yeah…I guess I’m being a baby. I’ve only lived here a year, but it’s been a very important year for me. A lot has happened…it’s scary to move." She gazed out the bedroom window once more. "I guess we’d better go." Her eyes burned with restrained tears. She turned toward Mac and without another thought, pressed her face against his chest. His arms were around her in an instant, holding her tightly for several moments while she sought the strength to leave.
"Don’t be scared. You’re going to be too busy to even think about it for a long time. And when you come home, we’ll take care of everything."
Mac’s words embraced her heart, and she felt his lips press against the top of her head.
"Okay, I’m all right." She pulled gently away from him and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She sniffed, then smiled. "Let’s go."
~ * ~
"Well, it works!" Jessica announced as she joined Mac in the kitchen late the following evening, wrapped in a voluminous terry robe, her hair tied up. To his puzzled look she continued, "The tub! It’s mah-volous!" She had worked all day, trying to quit early but with no success. Mac had taken the day off to prepare for his trip, and was still tying up loose ends.
"Sounds wonderful. Next time, invite me." Before she could protest at this outrage, he opened the freezer door. "How about some Cookies ‘N Cream?"
Her response was now a decided nodding and an "Mmmm" escaping her throat. He dished out a bowl for each of them, and they sat together at an old-fashioned oak kitchen table. "You went shopping," she commented. "Thank you."
"Just a few things. Can’t live without ice cream, can we?" Despite his animated conversation, Jessie could tell Mac was preoccupied and she anticipated some weighty conversation. Soon, he reached for a large envelope on the counter, and carefully slid its contents onto the table.
"Okay." He sighed, still pausing to taste the ice cream in between statements. "Keys: front door, garage, guest; alarm key; and garage door opener." Each item was displayed in turn, then pushed aside as she nodded. "Phone numbers: Mom’s, Megan’s, Gretchen’s--she’s the housekeeper who will be coming weekly; and this is a number where I can be reached in an emergency. I’ll get you a better number after I arrive in Berlin." Again Jessie nodded, her mood becoming somber as she realized Mac was truly leaving in the morning.
Next Mac picked up a checkbook. "This account has about $1,500.00 in it, for household expenses and emergencies. I also pay Gretchen from it. I’ve signed a few checks, so keep these tucked away. And there’s some cash in here, for small stuff, you know, just in case the plumbing blows up tomorrow or something." He lifted another spoonful, but playfully stuck it into her gaping mouth as she stared at the cash an
d checkbook. "There’s supposed to be a big storm moving in tonight. I’m hoping this roof holds."
Jessica’s throat felt tight, despite the delicious cold of the dessert. Things were happening too fast. She had lost her home and now she was losing Mac, who was whimsically feeding her another spoonful. She couldn’t speak, so opened her mouth dutifully. Soon, she, too, would be leaving L.A. and leaving Roxie behind. Can I handle this? She felt a mild terror coming over her.
Mac’s voice brought her back. "I need you to do a couple of things before you leave, okay?" Again she nodded dumbly. "Start up the cars a couple of times while I’m gone, especially the truck. I meant to get it tuned up this week, but I just ran out of time. It gets pretty sluggish if I don’t drive it once a week or so."
"Sure," she finally managed to croak. "What else?"
"Call Megan once, just tell her that I’m fine and will be home soon."
"I think I can handle that," Jessica replied, clearing her throat. "What…what time do you leave in the morning?"
"I have to be out of here by five-thirty."
"Can I drive you to the airport?" Her voice was almost a whisper.
"No, there’s a limo coming. Besides, if it is raining, you won’t want to be driving to LAX. Here, last bite." He scraped up the last of her ice cream and gently put the spoon into her mouth. "You aren’t going to get brain dead on me, are you?" he asked, watching her eyes thoughtfully.
"Too late for that," she smiled, finally forcing herself to appear confident and strong. She stood and took their bowls to the sink. Her back to him, she fought to keep her voice casual. "And when do you get back, exactly?"
"The day after you leave. Can’t change it, I tried…there’s some sort of festival occurring over there that we need to film. This is our finale, you know."
"Oh," she managed, absently rinsing the bowls and putting them into the dishwasher.
"So! You must be pretty excited about going to…where is it?"
"Amande, yes, I’m really looking forward to it," she said woodenly.
"Boy, was that convincing! Rather go to Iraq?" he laughed. When she didn’t respond, he tugged on the back of her robe and motioned for her to sit back down. She complied and forced a smile. He took her hand in both of his and sighed. "Talk to me."
The warmth of his hands was comforting, too comforting for him to be leaving tomorrow.
"I’m just a little nervous, that’s all."
"About what?"
"Everything. The trip, being gone so long, the filming, my performance, I won’t know anyone…God, Mac, it’s this tiny little island, they probably don’t speak English…and you can’t even drink the water…" Her words, slow at first, rushed out as she opened the flood gate holding her fears.
His fingers slowly massaging her hand, Mac spoke with firm but gentle conviction. "Hold on, Jessie…give yourself a little credit here. Don’t wimp out. I know it’s hard to believe right now, with everything happening at once, but you’ll be fine. More than fine, you’ll be brilliant." He stopped rubbing her hand and squeezed it warmly between his.
His eyes were serious and delving; she felt the strength he was offering her. She brought her other hand to join his. And with his tone slightly altered, he ventured his real concern. "Are you afraid of Pierce?"
Her eyes immediately flashed to his. His perception was uncanny when it came to her feelings about Dane, and right now there was no place to hide.
"No," she responded, boldly lying to his face, and they both knew it. Mac seemed torn between chastising and applauding her. He chose to accept the lie as fact.
"Good. You know, vampires can’t come in unless you invite them."
"I’ll be sure and pack silver bullets," she assured him, smiling. Inside, the terror remained, but it was now covered with the gentle blanket of his words. As usual, he had her laughing again and she could be strong in the presence of his comforting aura, but she dreaded the morning and his departure like death.
~ * ~
Five o’clock came much too soon for either of them. Mac seemed irritable and complained of a headache. Jessica ignored his crankiness and helped him gather his luggage at the door.
"Where’s my jacket?" he demanded, then smiled sheepishly as he spied Jessica holding it to her chest. He took it from her just as the limo driver honked, signaling his arrival at the porch.
The rains had indeed come, pouring buckets instead of drops, and Mac looked at the ceiling warily. "Would you check around?" he asked, donning the jacket and opening the door. "Hello, Henry." He shook the driver’s hand. "Bit wet?"
Henry was extremely large, Jessica noted, but equally friendly. "A bit, Mr. MacKendall. I dare say we’d best get on down to LAX. It’s going to be living hell down there. I’ll load your luggage."
"Thanks."
Jessie became suddenly animated.
"Passport?"
"Yup."
"Directions?…Wallet?…American Express?" Mac checked off each item she questioned, finally breaking the tension with a laugh. They moved outside to the porch as Henry loaded the last of Mac’s bags. Mac stepped down one step and turned to Jessica, now eye to eye with her. The stormy gray dawn darkened his brown eyes as they searched hers for some note on which they could say good-bye.
"Well, this is it." He took her hands, but dropped them in favor of placing his on her cheeks. A tear had escaped, and he brushed it away with his thumb. "Ah, ah, none of that," he scolded. "Promise me you’ll be careful?"
She nodded slowly. "And you," she managed in a tight whisper. She felt an eternity was passing in seconds, her eyes taking in the entire scene, almost as if she could see the two of them from some remote angle. I need to remember this morning, she thought fiercely, it will be two months before I see him again.
"I’ll call you in a few days," he said softly into her ear as they embraced quickly. He kissed her cheek, then dashed through the sheeting rain to the waiting car.
She did not stand and wave. She returned to the house and numbly closed and locked the front door. And she didn’t cry, either.
~ * ~
Dearest Mac,
It is unbelievable that I am finally leaving. As I write this, I know you are packing your things to come home as I pack to go. I’m sure you can imagine my state of mind; I am moving in a programmed fashion, and I hope I’ve remembered my toothbrush when I get there.
It was wonderful talking with you the other night. I called Meggie this morning and she is excited that you will be there on Saturday. She said the sweetest thing, wishing I could be with the two of you. What a little love she is. Glad to hear your film is good and your trip successful. I am actually trying not to think about what is ahead for me, for as you know I’m apprehensive, no, petrified that I will be awful or freeze up. A car is coming for me at seven, and I am all ready.
I had the truck tuned up, I hope you don’t mind, it’s running great. By the way, the plumber said the kitchen sink will now perform for another 70 years after he replaced the pipes last week. Also we need to have the roofers replace some cracked tiles over the study. No leaks, thankfully.
Jessica stopped and looked at the last two sentences. She crossed out the "we" and wrote "you".
Thought you might like to know, Amande is one of the "Windward Islands," part of the Grenadines, near Barbados. We are staying in a remote beach location where there is only a hotel, a little market, a few houses and a primitive airstrip. We’re bringing in our own food and water, and a doctor. We’ll be shooting just up the beach from the hotel. A replica ship is already moored there. The nearest "big" town is on another island.
Mac, the most incredible thing has happened! Roxie is doing a dress for Helen Hunt! She has been getting calls ever since People Weekly did an article on the Bellerive premier, and she finally answered one. I just know she’ll make it big, she has so much talent and creativity. I wish to God that I could be here for her, but since I can’t, will you please call her and ask her how it goes? She’d love to h
ear from you, in any case.
There is a large fruit salad and some leftover lasagna Rox and I couldn’t finish last night, so you’re set for now…and of course, there’s ice cream."
She smiled at the thought of Mac teasing her with a spoonful.
Gretchen is here now, so the house will be clean when you arrive.
Well, my dear friend, I will call you Saturday night and confirm that I am still alive. Dane has promised that no time will be wasted and that we will be home the minute the film is in the can. (He has also offered to taste every glass of water for me, such is my obvious and insane paranoia.) I was so glad to hear that you have the next several weeks off, and dearly hope you will take the opportunity to zone out for awhile. (Or maybe you could have the pool done by the time I come home?) Please take care of yourself. I miss you.
Love, Jessica
Mac read the letter thoughtfully, sitting at the kitchen table after returning home the following evening. He smiled and frowned alternately at all of her news, then read the letter once again before popping the tray of lasagna into the microwave. Her casual mention of Pierce’s "promises" caused him an inordinate level of annoyance, but he passed it off as Jessica’s way of letting him know she was "okay" with Dane’s attitude.
After a brief dinner, Mac went to the phone to call Roxie. He wanted to hear her news, and to be prepared for Jessie’s questions when she called on Saturday.
~ * ~
Roxie was thrilled to hear Mac’s voice, and hers indicated success to Mac’s ears. He smiled broadly as she recounted, blow by blow, her exciting interview with Helen Hunt and her hysteria upon getting the order.
"And what’s more, she’ll be wearing it to the Oscars! Can you believe it? Oh Mac, she’s really, really nice in person, and she invited me to have lunch next week when I bring the sketches!" Roxie’s voice had taken on a feverish pitch, and Mac could not contain his laughter. She laughed with him, though, and they chatted about her future for several minutes.
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