Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  "Oh." Jessica swallowed, transfixed by the sight of his mouth kissing her fingers, speaking the words of redemption.

  "You feeling better?"

  She nodded. So complete was her preoccupation, she would have nodded at any question.

  "Forgive me?"

  Forgive me. Jessica stared at him for a long moment. The endless nights of misery, of wondering what she’d done to offend him, the practiced apologies never uttered, all came flashing by her as she looked into his eyes. Forgive him. She shook her head briskly, briefly, to break free of the memories. "Forgive you for what?" she whispered.

  And then he smiled again, making everything as it had been before. Except for the gentle hand-playing, of course.

  Still holding her left hand in his right, Mac drank down the rest of his drink.

  "Before I forget, Megan sends her love," he said. "She can’t wait to show you her pierced ears."

  "You," Jessie begin, pausing to clear her throat, "you were with Meggie today?"

  "Of course," he said simply. "Where else would I be?"

  "Oh, there’s probably a million things you could have done today," Jessica replied, looking up toward the stars as she paraphrased Roxanne’s words.

  Mac only smiled softly, slowly shaking his head.

  They talked for nearly an hour about the day he had spent with Megan, and Jessica’s career plans after the completion of Lost Season. At around nine, he picked up their empty glasses and extinguished the candles. At his cue, she followed him back to the kitchen. It was clear he was dismissing her.

  He walked her to the front door. "And now I’m going to send you home."

  Jessica was bursting inside. She stood on the porch, filled with anticipation. Touch me, Mac. Please. Anywhere. Any way. Make things right.

  Instead, he went back inside and immediately returned with an envelope. "Something for your new kitchen; open it when you get home." She bashfully took the envelope and put it in her purse.

  "I’ll call you before Saturday, Mac. I should have a phone later this week." She fumbled with the car keys.

  He nodded and walked past her to the car, parked at the end of the walk. Turning, he casually sat back against the passenger door and shoved his hands into his pockets. Overhead, a three-quarter moon dusted the scene with silvery light. Jessica stood awkwardly on the brick walk, wondering what to do or say next as he silently considered her. She took a tentative step, glancing nervously at her feet, the words she wanted to say sticking somehow in her throat.

  "Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life," she finally admitted. "I was so afraid that we might not be friends anymore. I don’t ever want that to happen again."

  "It was bad for me, too." He paused, searching for words himself. "Everything has changed, hasn’t it?" he asked softly. Her lips smiled briefly and she offered a subtle nod. "I don’t know exactly how to be…" he confessed, now pulling his hands from his pockets and rubbing them on his thighs in an effort to dry his damp palms.

  Hesitantly, she moved slowly toward him, stopping just inches from touching him. He brought his hands to rest, ever so lightly, on her hips; she could barely feel them.

  "It’s so strange, I keep feeling I don’t know you the same way, anymore," he continued, his voice soft and unsure.

  "Do you want to know me?" she asked simply, bravely, not moving a muscle. Her body was rigid with expectation.

  "Oh yes. Very much."

  At his response, Jessica lifted her hands to his shoulders and lightly ran her fingers over them, while at the same time pressing her lower body against his, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, knee to knee. The touch caused her to catch her breath. She continued dragging her trembling fingers down his shirt, absorbing his warmth, before returning them to encircle his neck.

  "I’m a wreck," she confided giddily.

  "So am I," he responded with a nervous chuckle.

  His hands were suddenly alive and finding the warm flesh of her back inside her sweater, pulling her tightly against him until her face was just before his. He stared into her eyes, and she wondered if he was trying to tie the past with the present, as she was.

  Kiss me, Mac, kiss me now!

  Mac could not help a small smile from forming on his lips. Closing his own eyes, he dragged his lips slowly across hers, savoring their softness, delighting in their sweetness.

  Jessica, too, closed her eyes, absorbing the loving affection conveyed by the warmth of his lips on hers. Bringing her hands to his cheeks, she stopped his wandering appraisal of her mouth and pressed her lips firmly against his. He needed no further encouragement; his lips now consumed her mouth; slow, wet and delicious. Inside, her heart danced wildly and her mind lolled in pleasure. Surely, she had never been kissed like this in her life. It was almost as if she’d never been kissed before, his touch filling her with the kind of excitement that comes with a first kiss, a first intimate encounter with a new love.

  At last he pulled his reluctant lips away from hers, leaving her breathless and flushed; then he hugged her fiercely, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers around her already trembling body. "Jessie, I’ve missed you so damned much." His voice was tight. "I wanted this…you…so badly. God I hated leaving you there! But I just couldn’t let myself compete. I was afraid." His words rushed out in an urgent whisper. "I didn’t want things to change."

  "I understand," she breathed, seeking his mouth again, making him kiss her again. Jessica was nearly intoxicated with his fervor as he finally let go weeks of repressed longing.

  Soon, too soon for Jessica, he retreated for a deep breath and smiled softly.

  "Is this fun or what?" His tone was intimate, and teasing.

  Almost unable to speak, she smiled shyly. "Why didn’t you ever tell me you could kiss like this?" she managed, her knees feeling weak as he still held her tight.

  "And spoil the surprise?" He rocked her slightly in his arms. "Don’t pass out on me again," he whispered, referring to his arrival on Amande.

  "And miss you kissing me again? Not a chance," she murmured. Being in Mac’s arms was undeniably the most wonderful, secure feeling she had ever experienced. She couldn’t get enough of touching him, her fingers delving into his hair, caressing his face, finding the muscles in his shoulders. It was her vision from the flight home, but real.

  "Am I going to kiss you again?"

  "I think you’d better…if you really want to know me."

  He smiled at her offer. And instead of replaying the passionate display of desire, he instead kissed her gently on the forehead, and cheek, and nose, slowly and casually adoring her face and ears with his lips.

  He released her slowly.

  "You’d better go now…it’s getting late…and I need some cold water, a lot of it." Mac was clearly overwhelmed by the intensity of his own feelings, both emotional and physical. Things were happening far too fast for both of them.

  Jessica nodded, swallowing hard and again retrieving her keys from her purse. She slipped into the Miata, still breathless, and he leaned through the window to brush her lips once more. Despite the euphoria surrounding his affection, Jessica felt a remote disappointment that he had not asked her to stay.

  As if reading her thoughts, he squatted next to the car and took her hand in his. "I won’t be able to sleep thinking about you," he confided.

  "Then, maybe we should…not sleep…together…" she ventured, licking her lips uncertainly.

  "On our first date? I’m surprised at you, Jessica Lynne." He feigned disdain, then winked at her while reaching up to tousle her hair. "Good night, love…be careful."

  She drove home in a fog. It was almost an hour to the cabin, but she hardly noticed the time as she thought about the evening’s events and the days to come. Maybe Dane had been right, after all. It was all true; it was Mac she loved, Mac who truly loved her. All these months of being friends, confidants, companions--had set the stage for the truest kind of intimacy.

  Once home, she went to the kitc
hen for some water. She felt giddy with emotion, and her throat was dry. Suddenly she remembered the envelope. She rushed to retrieve her purse.

  Jessica opened the envelope with trembling fingers. Inside, she found a single, small, yellow square of paper. A "Post It" note, on which she saw Mac’s careful, neat printing, a combination of large and small capitals, that read, "Friday night--Dinner with Mac--7:30."

  Jessie smiled softly and pressed the note to her chest for several seconds before sticking it to the refrigerator door.

  Ten

  Night Flight, Night Music

  Jessica spent the next few days relaxing and rearranging the cabin. New curtains and linens were first on her list, and a small barbecue for the deck. She surveyed the little house from the driveway. It was built into a hillside; the "front door" was actually on the side of the house, on the second level, the first level being the garage. A switch-back, split-log stair had been embedded into the hillside leading from the rocky driveway up to the door.

  Inside, there was a staircase leading to the third, or loft, level, which was one large room with an open rail over the living room. The living room was long with one side nearly all glass, opening onto the massive deck and the view.

  The cabin was furnished; she had almost no furniture of her own. And now, now that her life was changing again, she knew this place was only a rest stop; she suspected that she would spend very little time here. Still, there was plenty of room for her desk, and more, in the loft, if necessary. Looking around inside, she decided the place needed something lively, if temporarily, so she made one more list for another shopping trip to the Valley. "Houseplants, Throw Rug, Firewood, Ice Cream, Variety--Call Teddy--Call Roxie!"

  After shopping, she found a pay telephone and began feeding in quarters and dimes. "I’ve just got to get a cell phone," she murmured as she dialed Teddy’s number.

  Teddy wanted to meet with her as soon as possible. He had several promising "vehicles" for her to read. "Good stuff, Jess."

  "And how are you doing, my friend?" she asked.

  "Never better. You’ve given me credibility, Jessie. I’m getting work for some of my other clients as well."

  "Great, Teddy. I’ll see you Thursday, okay?"

  ~ * ~

  Roxie had a list of calls for her. "Let’s see: Your Mom’s practically livid, your sister’s about to go into labor; Dane has called twice today, railing about something. Teddy’s trying to reach you. And the phone company says it’ll be in on Friday. Hallelujah."

  Jessica giggled. "I owe you, and I love you."

  She would put off talking to her mother one more day, and Teddy was handled. She sighed and popped more coins into the phone, dialing the unfamiliar number Roxie had read off for Dane.

  "Pierce Productions," a switchboard operator’s voice. After heavy interrogation, she finally got through to him. "Quick, I only have one minute left and I’m out of quarters."

  "Jess, we have some bad film. I need you on the set at nine a.m. tomorrow." Dane’s voice was tight and distant.

  Jessica silently mouthed a few choice words. "What film?" she asked dully.

  "That we shot before we left for the Caribbean. The Boston stuff." He was more than irate, and she patiently listened to his choice words for several seconds before interrupting.

  "Dane, I…Dane? Dane! I’ll be there!"

  "I’m sorry, Jess." His tone changed. "Everything okay?"

  "I’m great. I’ll see you in the morning."

  "Thanks, sweetie. And get yourself a damned cell phone!"

  ~ * ~

  The costumer and make-up people were all over her, lightening her skin tone and stuffing her dress. "We have to have you match the earlier shots." This work was simple compared to the island filming, and Jessica breezed through the retakes easily. Dane was pleased, and they walked together to the commissary for a quick meal mid-afternoon.

  They ate lunch companionably, their conversation lively with talk about the trip and the film. Dane was highly animated, in the throes of excitement over wrapping up the film.

  "So how come you’re so chipper?" he asked, "All I’ve had is shit since I got back."

  "No particular reason," she smiled back at him.

  He leaned forward conspiratorially. "You and Mac finally getting it on?"

  Shocked by his frankness, Jessie raised her hand as if to slap him. He caught it and held it back. "I’m learning," he smiled. "My jaw is still sore."

  "Dane Pierce, you are the most disgusting, vulgar, slimy pig to walk this earth," she began, leaning forward for privacy.

  "You mean to say you haven’t gotten into his pants yet? My God, it took you no time to get into mine," he replied, laughing playfully.

  Jessica stood up. By now, everyone in the lunchroom was watching them. "That’s because yours were already down--around your knees," she asserted, emphasizing the last words and walking smartly from the room.

  Dane watched her leave with admiration, subtly pleased with the change in her. He looked around at the others and smiled.

  "That’s Jessica--always rehearsing. She’s really something."

  "I’ll bet she is," murmured one man sitting nearby. Dane chuckled to himself and finished his meal alone.

  ~ * ~

  Friday could not arrive soon enough for Jessica. Thursday found her dragging home a stack of screenplays to read and a new dress for her date with Mac. Upon dropping her packages on the Futon in the living room, she remembered with despair that she’d again failed to return her mother’s phone call. Well, her phone would be in tomorrow; they were getting used to her using the phone in the little market down the hill but she just couldn’t make the trip back to town again today. And anyway, her mother was just being her usual, hysterical self, Jessica was certain.

  Yet when the phone was connected Friday at noon, her first call was not to Mom but to Mac. "Give me directions and I’ll pick you up at seven," he suggested. She had planned on meeting him somewhere in the Valley; it was another half-hour to the cabin, but he insisted and she rattled off a verbal map to her new home. "Got it. See you later."

  Jessica put the phone down reverently. She took a deep breath, then grabbed a couple of the scripts and headed for the tub.

  ~ * ~

  Her dress was simple but quietly elegant. He had mentioned reservations at Le Chene, a dark, romantic restaurant in the foothills, and she knew the white knit dress with tiny silver threads was perfect; form fitting, with small, off-the-shoulder pouf sleeves. She’d had her long hair trimmed and curled, and tonight she pulled it to the top of her head and let the curls cascade down with thin silver ribbons.

  He took a deep breath when she answered the door. A soft "whoa" escaped his lips as he looked her up and down.

  She smiled and turned around for him with mock flourish. As she turned back toward him, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close for a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Mac, too, was resplendent in a charcoal suit, sky blue shirt and, Jessica noted with gaiety, burgundy suspenders. "I really hate ties," he explained.

  "I know that," she giggled. "Come and see my place." She gave him the grand tour, and soon they were riding back south in the BMW.

  ~ * ~

  "I’ll pass on the Frog Legs Provençale," Jessie said with a mock frown.

  "Beef tongue, perhaps?" Mac teased. "How about Sandabs Veronique?"

  "Chicken? Do they have just plain chicken?"

  "Lobster. We’re having Lobster Le Chene. Unless you’d rather have the Baby Salmon."

  "Lobster is wonderful," she said, giggling.

  "Start with the Baked Brie and Artichoke Vinaigrette," he told the waiter. And I’ll take a look at that wine list."

  Dinner was easy and comfortable for both of them. Mac entertained her with comic stories about the haphazard workmen that had finished the pool, and she delighted him with her off-beat description of one of the screenplays she had been offered.

  "Can’t you just see
me as a female Mad Max?" she laughed. "A machine gun in each hand?"

  Everything seemed much as it had been between them before Amande, except for an underlying nervousness Jessica felt when she caught him looking at her just a little too long.

  They ordered decaf coffee after dinner, and Mac became serious. "There’s something I need to say, and it’s not too pleasant, and I need you to…listen and hear me," he began. "It’s about the girl who answered my phone."

  "It’s not necessary, Mac…really," she began, but knew she wasn’t very convincing with her cheeks burning pink.

  "It was Lauren. She called me, claiming to be at an impasse in her life, you know, like maybe suicidal. God, I hate that word." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "She asked me if she could come over, to stay and if I would help her get through it. She’s been sleeping with some director, and they’d had a fight--small wonder--she said he meant her harm and that she couldn’t be alone. I hung up, I struggled with it, and all I could think about was…what if she did it? How could I live with that? And she could do it, too, I’m afraid." He avoided her eyes, instead focusing on the credit card turning in his fingers.

  "I called her back. I told her to come over, that she could stay until the morning, and I’d help her figure out what to do. She came, and things…just got out of hand." He wet his lips, then put down the card and looked directly into her eyes. And Jessica knew; she knew what had happened next. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, but somehow, she had already known the truth and it didn’t hurt nearly as much as she’d thought it would. She couldn’t let him continue the self-torture of his confession alone.

  "And you and she…had a sort of wrestling match?" She offered her implied forgiveness, lowering her chin in question.

  "I was…still reeling from Amande." He squinted at the memory. "And she’s a really mixed up kid, Jess. She thinks that sex is the same as love and acceptance, from anyone. Which of course makes it even more awful that I did it, because I don’t love her. In a way, she’s a victim, just like you felt Roxie was a victim." He sighed. "Lauren answered the phone while I was in the shower. I heard her hang it up as I was getting out."