Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  The first gray rays of light were visible in the east over the Wasatch Mountains. The air was cold, and crisp, and sweet. "This is real air, Jessie. Not that nasty brown stuff we have in L.A." He sat in a patio chair and pulled her onto his lap. "I wish we could stay here a week."

  She put her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah…and make love all…the…time." His voice was low and seductive. He kissed her softly. They sat together in silence watching the gray light become pink light. The quiet augmented their mutual feeling of contented comfort, their thoughts singly on each other, and on the miraculous change in their relationship.

  "I wanted you the first time I saw you." Mac said quietly. "You were so wound up."

  "In my kitchen. At Christmas."

  "No. Before that. That morning you came for the audition that wasn’t."

  She turned and straddled her knees around him, leaning down to kiss him again. "I could kiss you forever."

  "I could live with that."

  A knock at the door inside brought them around. "Ice cream time." Mac’s eyes lit. He found his wallet and pulled out several bills. Jessica answered the door.

  The young man with the tray looked to be around sixteen or seventeen years old, with long, straight hair and curious brown eyes. It was obvious he was stunned by Jessica’s appearance.

  "Mrs. Reeves?" He glanced at her slender figure. "Whoa…impossible…" Terribly confused, he looked at the slip of paper on the tray, trying to read the words in the dim light. "Mrs. MacKendall?"

  "Thank you," Mac said, taking the tray from the poor boy. He put it on the bed and handed the boy some cash. "You got the right flavor, didn’t you? She’s a bit…eccentric, you know, I have to keep her happy or she gets…out of control." Mac spoke conspiratorially and the boy’s eyes widened as they walked out of the door. "You know what I mean?"

  "Wow…I hear ya." The boy shook his head, then looked at the ten dollars in his hand. "Hey, this is most excellent…uh, Mr. MacKendall, I mean, if you need anything else, I’d be real grateful if you’d ask for me, Dennis."

  They sat on the bed and shared the ice cream. The newness of their situation had not spoiled their sense of the past, and their friendship only grew stronger as a result of their love. They took turns feeding each other playfully, and when it was gone, they lay back down on the bed and made love again.

  "You actually attacked me in the shower." His fine, sensitive fingers were playing across her chest as he parted the brown robe, exposing the milky white part of her that had not seen the Caribbean sun. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her breast, slowly, tenderly expressing his renewed desire for her. His still damp hair touched her chest, and she shivered slightly.

  "You kept me waiting. On purpose," she accused. She felt, rather than saw, his confirming smile against her skin as he continued to explore her body.

  "I needed a shower, ma petite." The warmth of his words, now spoken into her ear, made her jerk with another shimmering spasm down her spine. "You’re cold?" he teased, moving to lie on top of her. He laced his fingers tightly with each of hers, pressing her hands into the pillow, peering deeply into her eyes once again. She sensed his restraint of some comment, some endearment which he was not yet ready to impart.

  Jessica was filled, overfilled, with desire and love for him. She strained against the pressure of his hold on her, lifting her chin to capture his lips with hers. He took her on, now exploring her mouth with his tongue, giving her what she craved. She had never known kissing like this.

  Pulling away quickly, Mac grinned at her. "You’ve been seriously deprived of proper kissing all your life, haven’t you?"

  "Yes," she panted. "Let go of me so I can attack you again."

  "No. We do it my way this time."

  It was beyond Jessica that she could be made to feel so wonderful. She could not help but compare this experience with the ones with Dane. Dane was…sexual, even erotic. He knew her buttons and soft spots and knew her desires, instinctively. He performed on her, rather than with her, his own desire heightened by his success in arousing her. He seemed almost like a well-defined, sexual machine, exacting perfect control over her.

  Mac neither knew of, nor cared little for such control. His actions were driven solely by his devotion and adoration for Jessica. He gave of himself equally to his taking from her, with no premeditation, planning, or expectations. Just spontaneous, generous love, and they enjoyed each other completely.

  As the sun’s light finally poured into the suite, Mac drew the dark draperies across the windows and they slept, entangled with one another in affectionate comfort.

  And it was noon before they awoke, delighted with the sight of one another. Now they welcomed the sunshine into their room, and Mac stood over her as she lazily stretched on the bed.

  "What are you looking at?" she teased.

  He sat down and lifted her hair to inspect her neck, turning her chin from side to side.

  "I wouldn’t want to have marked your lovely skin."

  She looked up at him, suddenly alert to the fact that he was referring to Dane’s parting souvenir of the island. Obviously, he had seen it that morning in the kitchen. A million years ago. She started to speak, and he pressed a finger to her lips.

  "That was then." No other words were necessary, it was clear.

  Part Five: Night Of Terror

  Eleven

  Trials and Truces

  Jessica spent as long with her sister as the hospital would allow. They talked about their different lives until they were each hoarse, the subject ultimately turning to the new little life to be christened Angelica.

  "Well, we’re really different now, Sissy," Jessica sighed. "You’re a mom."

  "You will be someday, Jess." Chrissie grasped her sister’s hand.

  "I almost was, once…but lately I’ve been glad, sort of, that it didn’t work out. It just wasn’t meant to be. If I hadn’t miscarried, I’d probably be a fisherman’s wife cleaning crab with five kids clinging to my apron." The girls laughed.

  "And instead you’re being courted by all these Hollywood studs." Chrissie poked at Jessica’s stomach.

  "No, only one, Chris. There will be no others."

  "Sounds serious. Is he as wonderful as he is handsome?"

  "He is," Jessica said softly, her eyes becoming blurry, "everything."

  "God, you sound like me when I met Nick. I hate to say it, Sissy, but you didn’t act this way about Wes."

  The girls had taken to calling each other "Sissy" when they were young in order to confuse people trying to tell them apart.

  "Are you going to marry him?"

  Jessica looked down at her lap. "If he asks me, yes. But knowing Mac, it could be awhile before he decides something like that." She smiled. "I can wait. The way I feel right now, I would wait forever."

  "Oh, Jess, please! You’re making me sick." Chrissie laughed.

  "Nick’s giving him the grand tour of Salt Lake."

  "Yeah, he was thrilled at the opportunity to get out of here. He hates hospitals. And, he likes Mac."

  "You lightened your hair, Sissy, it looks great."

  "I had to do something. I’m afraid when Lost Season opens, I’ll have no peace."

  "Could be good for business," Jessica teased, then added, "I’ll send you one of those big noses with the glasses."

  "You seem a little underwhelmed today, Sis, is something wrong?"

  "Naw…Mac has to fly back to L.A. this afternoon, and I’m bummed."

  "Go with him."

  "No! I want to be here with you for a few days, honest. Mac and I have a whole future ahead of us."

  "Jess, go home with Mac. I’m fine, really."

  "Forget it, Chris, I’ve already purchased a ticket home on Tuesday. Mac’s doing this environmental TV special and he’s pretty busy, otherwise he’d stay, too. This trip wasn’t exactly planned, but we want to come back up later this year."

  ~ * ~
<
br />   She argued with Mac about taking him to the airport. "You should know by now that I can take care of myself. You can’t be worrying about me. I’m taking you to the airport, and that’s final." He shrugged and gave her an exasperated, if loving, look, and they left for Salt Lake International.

  It was more than hard to say good-bye. "Seems like we’ve done this a lot," she said, trying not to cry.

  "You’ll be home Tuesday, right? I wish I could stay, but yesterday was Megan’s birthday, and I promised to take her to the Music Center this evening." At Jessica’s puzzled look, he continued. "She’s precocious, I told you. It’s a children’s opera."

  "That means that Angelica was born on the same day as Megan." Jessie was losing the battle with her tears and he hugged her.

  "Call me, okay? Every night until you come home."

  "Sure," she sniffed. "You’re working, right?"

  "Yeah, but not late hours. You be careful, okay?"

  She nodded over his shoulder. Blinking away her tears, she caught sight of someone across the crowded terminal staring at her. The face seemed hauntingly familiar, but different…

  Mac felt her stiffen and looked in the direction of her gaze. "What is it?" They both glimpsed a man in the crowd, some twelve yards away, watching them. Very tall and thin, he had shoulder length reddish-blond hair, a mustache and several days’ start on a beard. As his eyes met Mac’s, he turned and disappeared into the throngs of passengers.

  "Just thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken," Jessica said. "You be careful, too."

  Standing in the middle of the airport, they kissed until the ominous voice of the airline called his flight for the final boarding.

  ~ * ~

  Jessica spent the next three days dividing her time between visiting Christine and helping out at the lodge. In another era of her life, she would have stayed at least two weeks. She loved children and would have enjoyed helping with the baby. But needless to say, her mind was filled with images of Mac, and it was difficult to stay.

  As it turned out, she extended her stay until Wednesday morning, for the hospital released Chrissie on Tuesday evening and a small celebration was held at the lodge. She continued to occupy the suite, despite her protestations to Nick that it was an unnecessary luxury. She dutifully called Mac each night as promised, and he told her all about Megan’s birthday and the opera and the "special" with which he was involved at the studio. Just the sound of his voice mesmerized her mind; closing her eyes she could see him in the house, talking to her on the phone.

  Tuesday night after the party, she tiredly returned to the suite and on a whim, turned on the Jacuzzi jets in the spa. The hot bubbles felt good and she called Mac from the phone she’d brought with her to the tub.

  "Don’t you dare tell me you’re not coming home tomorrow," he warned her.

  "Not on your life. My flight gets in at ten in the morning."

  "You know I can’t be there…but I’m sending Henry, you remember him, don’t you?"

  "Of course. That’s wonderful, I appreciate it." She sighed. "I’m in the Jacuzzi, Mac."

  "Don’t say that," he moaned. "God, I miss you, Jessica."

  She giggled softly. "Good. Because I’m going to jump on you tomorrow."

  ~ * ~

  It was difficult, at the last minute, to leave Chrissie and the others. Her mother admonished her for staying so briefly, but she swore that she’d return in the late summer or fall and stay a couple of weeks. She also promised to visit Seattle soon, suggesting the family get together there for Thanksgiving. Or better yet, everyone could come to L.A. for Christmas. Her mother scoffed but hugged her with tears in her eyes.

  "I’m sorry if I might have offended your young man, Jessie. It’s just that Wesley has missed you so." She stopped short of saying more than she wanted to.

  "What, Mother, what about Wes?"

  "Nothing. I just meant that I’m not used to seeing you with someone else."

  "Mother! It’s been five years since Wesley and I divorced!" Jessica cried in frustration. "And Mom, Mac is ten times the man Wesley was."

  "Is, Jessica, he’s not dead, although you might think so." Her mother seemed overly concerned about her ex-husband. "Anyway, Mr. MacKendall seems to be a nice young man, Jess, for an actor."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" Jessica threw her hands up, exasperated with her mother. And she wonders why I don’t call her back, she thought dryly.

  ~ * ~

  "Mom means well, Sis," Chrissie consoled her moments later as they said their last good-bye. "She’s just living in the past, when we were all together, and you and Wes used to come over for dinner every week…she remembers those as the good old days, and she equates your career with the demise of those times."

  Jessica nodded. "I know. She just gets to me sometimes…And it bugs me that Wesley calls her all the time." Glancing at the clock, she cleared her frown. "Look, I have to go, or I’ll miss my plane."

  The sisters hugged and cried and promised to stay in touch. Jessica said she’d remember to forward the "disguise" as soon as the picture was released.

  Nick drove her to the airport, and while boarding the plane, her excitement began to build. She was going home, to Mac this time.

  ~ * ~

  Mac’s right about this deadly air, she thought as the United wide body approached L.A.’s International Airport. She imagined her lungs were already hurting. But nothing could dampen her spirits today.

  Christine had unloaded a few dresses on her, one of which was perfect for today: a springy, flowery sun dress with a full skirt and fitted bodice, accented by a solid red belt hugging her trim waist. Red pumps completed the outfit. "Take them Jess, they’re not much use around the mountains here," Christine had told her. And from the airport gift shop, Jessica added a perfect straw hat with a red hatband.

  The jet landed without incident, and Jessie sighed with relief. Her hasty trip meant no luggage, everything being in the carry-on over her shoulder. Although she wasn’t quite sure where to look, Henry appeared out of nowhere and ushered her gallantly to the waiting limousine.

  ~ * ~

  "Where to, Miss Taylor?"

  "Well…" She grinned at Henry. She had a plan, and he grinned back. "Do you think you could get me past the gate at Castle?"

  "Mac working today? I think we could sneak you in." And they were off.

  Jessica’s stomach was aflutter. She twisted the strap of her bag nervously. Oh boy-oh boy-oh boy-oh boy…come on come on come on…each red traffic light was an eternity.

  At Castle Studios the guard waved them in. "Should I wait, Miss Taylor?" Henry asked.

  "Uh…no. I think I can get another lift, thank you." She smiled brightly, and Henry chuckled. He helped her out at the door to the sound stage where Mac’s BMW was parked outside. The red light was flashing, and Henry started to say something.

  "I know." She smiled, and Henry drove away. Nervously she paced, and the minute the light went off, she hurried inside.

  The stage was set up for an interview, talk-show style. An observation booth loomed twenty feet above the set, to one side, wherein sat the producer and director. They talked to the cast and crew via a loud speaker system overhead.

  "Okay, let’s try it again," the overhead voice boomed. A bell rang. Jessica slowed her pace, her heels echoing loudly as she approached the stage. Mac was sitting on a couch, apparently interviewing a woman about toxic waste as slides changed behind them on a large screen. He caught sight of Jessica and jumped to his feet.

  "Wait, Bert, wait!" he called. Leaping off the stage, he ran toward Jessica and swept her up into his arms, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, all the while kissing her hungrily. Everyone else in the room watched them, and above a spotlight was trained on them by a humorous light technician.

  After several moments, the man in the booth clicked on his microphone.

  "Excuse me, uh, Mac, could we continue sometime today?"

  Mac waved h
is arm and eventually put Jessica down.

  "Can you take a break?" Jessica whispered.

  "I…" Mac looked up at the booth, frowning, "…don’t know."

  Although he could not hear their words, the director’s voice boomed. "Take five, Mac."

  "Fifteen, Bert?" Mac called back.

  "Ten maximum. Maybe you won’t be so worthless when you get back, huh?"

  "Ten minutes." Mac looked at his watch and glanced down at Jessie. A smile was curling on his lips, creating the boyish dimples she adored. "This could be a new record…come on."

  He took her hand and they ran from the room, much to the merriment of the crew. This particular stage was farther from his dressing room than the Doctor Jim set, and they were panting when they reached it, Jessica carrying her heels as she ran in her stockings.

  Mac closed the door and threw the bolt. Jessica reached behind her and began unzipping the flowered dress, and Mac approached her.

  "Ah ah ah ah, my turn this time."

  Their chests heaving from their abrupt getaway, they undressed each other quickly, laughing at their own adolescent behavior. Then they were on the small bed, instantly falling into a playful, loving game of passion and desire, delighting one another with sensual pleasure.

  "Not much opportunity for foreplay," he laughed, turning on the shower minutes later.

  "Foreplay was over when you touched me the first time," she confessed.

  "That good, huh? Damn." Then, more seriously, "I missed you so much; it seemed like forever."

  They washed any physical evidence of their encounter from their bodies, but there was no mistaking the obvious glow in their faces as they returned to the set, hand in hand, calm now. They had been gone twenty minutes.

  "Nice of you to rejoin us, Valentino." The voice was invading their private good-bye. Mac ignored it, his attention all directed at fussing with Jessica’s hair.

  "Henry dropped you off…you need my car?"

  She nodded and slipped her hand into his pocket, seeking the keys. She pulled them out and he took them, attempting in vain to separate two halves of the key chain. Jessica took them back and unhooked them easily. "Guess I’m still worthless," he joked. "Where are you off to?"