Starcrossed Hearts

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Starcrossed Hearts Page 23

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)


  "I’ll be okay in a day or so, I’m sure."

  "How’s Mac?"

  "He’s fine. He’s…wonderful. I keep hoping he won’t get this, but the way he hovers over me, it will be a miracle if he doesn’t."

  "Could it be something you picked up on the island?"

  "Gosh, I hope not." Jessica considered this possibility.

  "Make an appointment. Now," Roxie ordered. "I’ll drive you, let me know when you go."

  ~ * ~

  Roxie excitedly completed arrangements for Jessie’s party later that week. "The Elysian Country Club and Resort has a room, it’s modest in size but perfect in atmosphere," she told Mac over the phone. "Glad you got in touch with Chris and Nick."

  "So, I’ll just bring her to the room after dinner. Will that work? And no shouting ‘surprise,’ okay? She’d hate that."

  "Fine. Oh, sorry, I have another call."

  "Finally got call waiting?" Mac asked with a chuckle.

  "I’m on the phone so much we were missing too many calls. And it’s probably your wife calling, so I’d better go. Roxanne pressed the "flash" button on her telephone, and was concerned at the sound of Jessica’s decidedly glum voice.

  "Rox, I have a doctor appointment this afternoon. Still want to go?"

  "Absolutely. I’ll pick you up."

  ~ * ~

  They waited while the doctor finished with his last patient.

  "I hope he can straighten me out. Mac’s taking me out tomorrow night, and I have to be well. It’s supposed to be special," she confided.

  Roxie gave her a broad smile. "He’s one in a million."

  "Miss Taylor?" The nurse motioned her into an examining room.

  Dr. Anderson was a kindly, old-fashioned doctor, and Jessica had been seeing him for several years. He asked her many questions, peering into her various orifices and feeling her glands. He pressed here and there on her stomach and abdomen, and sat back.

  "When was your last monthly?"

  Jessica colored. She hated the unavoidable question, even more so now because she couldn’t really remember.

  "I was in Amande, I think. Gosh, it’s been…it was around March 5th…I think."

  "Hmmm. No spotting, nothing?" He was looking at a chart. "That’s over ten weeks, Jessica."

  "You know me, Doctor Anderson. I’ve never been what you’d call regular. And I’ve been through a lot of…stress lately."

  "I heard. I was truly sorry to hear about Wesley. Well, your blood sugar’s been stable, at least." He sighed, then turned to his nurse. "Get me a pap kit. I’m going to do a pelvic. And get a specimen from her when I’m done."

  Jessie grimaced. This was not going well. The doctor examined her internally, then again pressed around on her abdomen. "Hmmm," he murmured again. He stood up abruptly. "Get dressed, then I’ll see you in a few minutes."

  Jessica was ashen as the nurse directed her to the doctor’s office. "What is it, Doctor? Just tell me. I can take whatever it is. My grandmother had--"

  "Hey! Sit down, Jessie."

  "It’s bad news, right?" Her hands were trembling.

  "Most people don’t think babies are bad news, but these days I never know. Especially among young, unmarried actresses."

  "Babies…what do you mean?"

  "How can I be clearer? Let’s see. How about, You-Are-Pregnant?"

  Jessica froze in her seat, her mouth partially open, her face a perfect picture of shock.

  "No," she said simply. "No, Doctor, that’s not possible." Her voice didn’t sound like her own.

  "Jessie, honey, do you know how many women have said that to me? They haven’t proven immaculate conception yet, at least not in this century." He squinted at her. "Not planned, I take it? Are you okay, do you want some water?"

  "I have to throw up," she whispered.

  "Jessica, I’m having Tami make up a prescription for pre-natal vitamins. And I’d like to meet your…young man, at some time during your term. Do you have any questions?"

  Yeah. What young man? Or better, which?

  In the waiting room, Roxie leaped up at the sight of Jessica’s white face. She said nothing at first, but drove her to a nearby coffee shop. They sat in silence until Roxie grasped her hand across the table.

  "Okay, spill it, kiddo. What gives?"

  Jessica stared at Roxie, her face a reflection of her internal turmoil. Her search for the right way to break the news was futile.

  "I’m pregnant," she murmured.

  Roxie’s mouth fell open. "What? How?"

  "I…don’t…know." She began to weep. "Oh Roxie, why is God doing this to me? Hasn’t enough bad stuff happened to me to warrant my having Mac’s love? Can He really take that away from me now?" She sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a paper napkin.

  "What do you mean? I thought you said you were…safe." Roxie began awkwardly.

  "Dane and Mac both told me they couldn’t have children. Either one of them lied, or one’s mistaken, and I’ve no way of knowing which one…oh God, I’m going to die…I can’t lose Mac, Roxie. I’ll kill myself, I swear it."

  "Calm down. Think this out."

  "There’s nothing to think out. Something has gone terribly wrong. Mac will never forgive me."

  "Mac loves you more than life itself. He proved that to you last month. I can’t believe he wouldn’t understand, or at least try to understand."

  "How could I possibly ask him to accept the fact that I might be carrying Dane’s child? It would ruin him."

  "You’ll just have to tell him. You know you have to. You’re not considering an abortion?"

  "No! I could never do that. I’ll raise this baby alone if I have to." She dried her eyes again. "But I can’t tell him tonight. I just can’t. I have to get used to the idea, to formulate what to say."

  Roxie bit her lip.

  "Rox, please don’t say a word to anyone, not even Tom, okay?"

  "Of course not. Everything will work out, hon, you’ll see." Roxie embraced her warmly.

  At home that evening, Jessica stood in the bathroom, staring at her nude body in the mirror. She turned from side to side. The doctor had estimated her to be seven or eight weeks along. She decided she looked okay, just a little softer. She sighed and stuck a saltine in her mouth. Mac was working late and she purposely feigned sleep when he joined her later in bed.

  Saturday afternoon Jessica was feeling better physically but worse emotionally. She somberly dressed for their night out. Mac had asked her to wear the simple white and silver dress she had worn on their wild flight to Utah, and she agreed easily. Normally she would have balked at wearing the same dress again, but this was just one less decision for her to make tonight.

  Roxie had come by to fix her hair earlier, and was off in a rush for a date with Tom.

  "Are you ready, gorgeous?"

  "I don’t feel gorgeous."

  "You feel well enough to go?" Mac approached her, lifting her chin to peer into her eyes.

  "Yeah, I’m much better. Thanks."

  "What did the doctor say?"

  "You’re wearing a tux!" she exclaimed, evading his question. "I love it."

  "Dashing, right?" Mac grinned at her and pulled her close for a hug.

  "You are dashing in a ragged T-shirt, my darling." Her eyes misted over looking at him. After tonight, she might not have the luxury of flirting with him again.

  "You sure you’re okay?" His eyes were soft with concern.

  "I’m…perfect. And…" she reached up to straighten his bow tie. "…I love you. Did you know that, Mr. MacKendall?"

  His cheeks colored in response to her simple declaration. Jessie swallowed and looked away for a moment, then continued with a forced, bright smile. "And I will love you, always." She again fussed with his tie, and he leaned forward and kissed her gently.

  In the driveway he helped her into a new, white Lotus Elan. The BMW had been sold, now just a bad memory of their night of terror. Their reservations were for 7:30 p.m., and they were promptl
y seated near a picture window exposing a view of the entire, twinkling city below. A single candle cast its warm light on their faces. Mac was unusually ardent, alternately complimenting and teasing her and repeatedly taking her hand. He seemed almost anticipatory, Jessie thought glumly. She had vowed she’d tell him tonight, but would wait until the evening was over. Why spoil a wonderful time?

  "So, what are your plans?" he was asking her.

  "What do you mean? For next week or next year?" Well, I thought I’d have a baby first, then…She smiled with difficulty, the irony of his question overwhelming in her mind.

  He smiled back, but his eyes were more serious than hers. "Let’s start with the rest of your life," he suggested.

  Jessica stared at him, her smile static on her lips. She cleared her throat. "Well…" Her mind was racing. "You know I want to keep making movies." She felt him take her hand, again.

  "Okay, that’s a start," he said softly. "What about us?"

  "Well, what about us?" Her stomach was becoming increasingly nervous.

  He pulled her hand to his lips. "Are you happy with the way things are?"

  She looked into his eyes. "Happy…is a pretty weak word for the way I feel, Mac. Ecstatic, euphoric, maybe…"

  "Secure? Content?"

  "I suppose." She was now off guard. Where was he leading?

  "How would you feel," he said, pausing to fish a small velvet bag from inside his breast pocket, "…about spending the next fifty or sixty years…with me?" He produced a tiny gold ring, set with diamonds around the entire circumference, and slipped it easily onto her finger.

  Jessica’s lips parted slightly in awe. Literally stunned by his question, she lost her voice. She gently pulled her hand away from his, slowly turning it to examine the ring on her finger, touching it with her other hand reverently.

  Her face colored. "Oh, Mac," she finally whispered.

  "Help me out, here, Jess, I need a little more than, ‘Oh Mac.’ Those don’t look like tears of joy."

  He leaned down, trying to interrupt her gaze at the ring.

  She turned her sorrowful eyes to his questioning ones. Her stomach lurched. "I…I don’t…I don’t know what to say," she said, sobs beginning to erupt in her chest.

  "You don’t? Well, of course if you need to think about it…" His voice trailed away as he studied her stricken face. Puzzled, he touched her cheek. "Jess, what’s wrong?"

  "I…need to go…to the ladies’ room…" She stood up and hurried away. After a moment’s reflection, Mac was on his feet and pursuing her through the restaurant.

  Jessica flew through the restroom door and turned quickly to lock the door. She fell against it, her body now wracked with sobs. From the other side, Mac could hear her crying and he turned the knob.

  "Jessie, let me in."

  She held her breath, trying to hold back the sound of her grief, and he pounded on the door.

  "Jessica, damn it, open this door!" She could not believe Mac would cause a scene in a place like this, but there he was, hollering at her through the door.

  With shaking hands she hastily unlocked the door and Mac exploded into the room. His face was hot with concern and irritation; he grasped her by the shoulders and held her against the wall. Her eyes wide and still producing tears, she regarded him painfully.

  His voice was low and tight with restrained anger. "It’s okay to say ‘no,’ Jess, but God damn it, don’t run away from me. It destroys me." He loosened his grip, his rage diminishing with the realization of her fear. "Jessie, baby, I love you! Jesus, if something is wrong you need to tell me. Nothing could be that bad…" He searched her eyes in desperation, finding only grief laced with tears. She did not answer him, only sobbed in uncontrolled misery. She turned her head away from him and down toward her shoulder.

  In frustration, Mac grasped her jaw and turned her face toward his. "Talk to me, Jessie, this isn’t fair."

  "All right! All right! I’m pregnant, okay?" She shouted the words into his face, as if shouting would banish the awful feeling from her body.

  Mac reacted as if the world had stopped turning. His eyebrows raised, and he stared at her in unabashed astonishment. Jessica again turned away.

  "So it’s okay if you don’t want to marry me." She wept quietly.

  Mac released her and turned to fall weakly back against the wall next to her.

  "So. This is apparently distressing news." His tone was flat.

  She tried to speak calmly, but her heaving chest wouldn’t cooperate and her words were lamely broken.

  "Oh Mac, I’m…so…sorry…I don’t know how…or when…"

  He was silent, staring at nothing before him for several moments. The only sound was of Jessica’s traumatic sobbing.

  "What I am hearing here, is that this child must belong to Pierce."

  "No…it…it can’t…be…"

  "What makes you say that?" Mac now rubbed his eyes wearily. "We both know what went on in Amande."

  Now Jessica’s face flushed a deep rose. "Amande." God, please stop this nightmare, Jessica prayed. "Mac, what happened in Amande…could not produce a child. Dane had the same…surgery…you had." Her voice was barely an embarrassed whisper.

  Mac raised his head and regarded her suspiciously. "The same surgery?"

  "Dane had a vasectomy after Zoe was born. He told me."

  Jessica dared a look at him. He was again staring at the floor, frowning eyes shifting in confusion; he absently wetted his lips. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to face her. His look was now nonjudgmental, and a certain softness had returned.

  "I assumed you were taking the pill." He spoke quietly now.

  "No, I…I can’t…take the pill. And I, I…never thought twice about it, Mac…why should I, since you can’t have children? I didn’t think…it was…a concern," she said, sniffing. "But I don’t know how this happened." She could not look at him.

  "Jessie," he said with a sigh, "I’ve had no surgery. It was Linda who opted for sterilization, not me." He moved back before her and again held her shoulders in a gentle grip. "I thought you knew that, baby." His voice was just above a whisper, and fell almost caressingly on her ears.

  The realization of what he’d said took time to spread across her anguished mind. She lifted her face and looked tentatively into his eyes, seeking truth behind his words. He was shaking his head slowly, tenderness turning the smallest smile to his lips.

  "Oh, God," she whispered, the sorrow in her eyes turning to joy as it finally struck her that the new life within her really belonged to Mac. She involuntarily rushed her arms around his neck, now crying openly with relief and happiness. He held her tightly, slowly rocking her as she wept, and finally she pulled away from him, self-consciously wiping her eyes.

  "Well, I guess things have changed," she sniffed, "again."

  "Not everything," he said solemnly. He took both of her hands in his and knelt on the restroom floor in his tuxedo. "I still want you to marry me, Jessica, and despite my deplorable temper, please know that I would have loved and married you regardless of whether the baby was mine or not."

  Jessica smiled through her tears and pressed the finger bearing his ring to her lips.

  "Tell me?" His eyes were nearly feverish with love for her.

  "Oh Mac, of course I’ll marry you."

  He wrapped his arms around her legs and embraced her, then, still kneeling, he slipped his hands up under her dress until they rested on her abdomen; he first felt the softness of her tummy, then pressed his ear against her.

  "Mac, what are you doing?" She attempted to push the dress back down, looking at him in awe, then giggled and cradled his head with her hands.

  It was at this moment that two matronly women entered the restroom, one of them expelling a brief, sharp cry at the sight of them. Jessica blushed, but Mac turned on a beguiling smile. "We’ve just found out we’re expecting. I was, uh, listening." He stood up then and discreetly adjusted Jessica’s dress. The first woman then nodded
agreeably, moving aside so that the couple could exit. She stared after them, immediately turning to her companion.

  "Irene! Wasn’t that Doctor Jim?"

  "Don’t be silly, Francis. Did you ever see Doctor Jim wear a tuxedo?"

  Grasping Mac’s arm, Jessica stifled a giggle.

  Back at the table, he helped her repair her make-up with a compact mirror. He shook his head again. "I can’t believe this. It’s incredible."

  "Is it really okay?" she asked timidly.

  "Okay? Jessica, I can think of nothing more wonderful. I’ve always wanted more children. And with you…my love, it’s…it’s perfect. Megan will be thrilled…Wow." He casually glanced around in excited animation. His eyes fell on his watch. "Oh, Jesus," he muttered. "We have to go."

  "Go? We haven’t eaten dinner yet!"

  "You’re not hungry anyway."

  "How do you know?"

  "Come on. We’re late."

  "Late for what?"

  He had taken her hand and was pulling her through the dining room. "Mac, tell me where we’re going."

  "To a party," he told her as they hurried down a hall and into a room filled with laughing, dancing people. People she knew, and loved.

  ~ * ~

  "I’m dreaming," she whispered as Mac slowed his pace and slipped an arm around her waist. Faces surrounded her, smiling, sipping drinks and…wishing her a happy birthday. In the sickness and terror of the past week, she’d all but forgotten her birthday was just a day away. Roxie, Tom, Jackie, Bill…was that Peter Welles? Christine and Nick! She looked at Mac, who stood smiling smugly at her.

  "Happy birthday, dear," he chided playfully.

  Jessica made her way around the room greeting her friends and feeling on top of the world. While hugging her sister and brother-in-law, Jessie spied a pair of familiar green eyes peering at her from a small table in the corner, a whimsical, appreciative smile on the lips beneath them. She carefully threaded her way across the room and sat down across from Dane.

  He’d propped his foot on a chair and was casually slouched back, a drink in his hand. His hair was trimmed short and carefully groomed. He smiled lazily at her.

  "Didn’t think I’d miss your party, did you, sweetie?"

  "I’m touched. It’s good to see you."

 

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