Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  "Make love to me, now," she whispered, her fingertips grasping at his lower back, pulling him to her, into her, until she knew he was all hers.

  Panting, nearly at the height of ecstasy, his breath burning in her ear, he withdrew ever so slightly, tormenting the both of them with hesitation, as he demanded her promise once more.

  "Tell me again that you are mine."

  "Oh, Mac…yes, yes! I am yours."

  And now there was no doubt in his mind that Jessica truly existed for him, and he for her.

  ~ * ~

  "Orion’s belt," he pointed out, holding her close against the rapidly cooling air.

  "Mmmm…" she responded, snuggling against him underneath the beach towels that covered them.

  "Fighting isn’t so bad, now is it?"

  "I’ll never enjoy fighting with you; but I have to admit…I don’t mind making up one bit."

  ~ * ~

  Dane Pierce leaned lazily against the wall of the club, a cellular phone in his hand within the pocket of his rough leather jacket. Intrigued by a young girl in streetwalker attire, he shook his head at some private joke. Stopping nearby, the girl picked up the receiver from a pay phone and dialed, talking in an animated fashion while scratching the back of her thigh.

  Slipping his hand into his hip pocket, Dane pulled out a torn matchbook cover. He squinted at the number printed on it, then quickly punched at the cell phone in his other hand before slumping back against the wall.

  "Hey, Jackie. Dane." A sardonic smile spread on his lips. "Yeah, well, the guy I was meeting canceled…you still want to get together?" He grinned at her response. "Good, hey, I’m on my way down to the Skybar, you know where that is? That’s right…I’ll meet you there in say, thirty minutes? Terrific. See you, doll."

  He folded the phone and walked back outside where a street vendor stood selling flowers from a cart. He pulled his wallet out and handed the man a ten dollar bill.

  "What’s nice tonight, Joe? How about that…what the hell is that, anyway? An orchid?"

  "Sure, man, that’s an orchid. But if it’s a special lady, I have some great roses here. Take a look at this, man." He fingered a perfect red rose bud.

  Dane stared at the rose, then slowly shook his head. He flashed a smile at the vendor. "I’ll take the orchid. You can put the roses on ice for me--for about nine months. Don’t forget now, I’ll be back."

  The man shook his head with indifference and carefully wrapped the orchid. Dane tucked the blossom under his arm and slowly walked back to lean against the building, staring at the night sky in amused wonder. From the doorway, loud, soulful music poured into the street, seeming to swirl about him. The song was a mournful tune, recounting the pain of unrequited love; the love of a man for a woman who is, and always will be, out of reach.

  Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, Dane Pierce pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

  Part Seven: Hearts Divided

  Fifteen

  Forever Jessica

  "Forsaking all others…"

  Jessica’s hands were shaking so badly she could barely steady them long enough to slip the gold filigree band onto Mac’s finger. He didn’t help matters by grinning at her ineptness, making her give up a small repressed giggle. The laugh relaxed her a little, and the ring went on easily.

  "Whew! Glad we got that taken care of," Mac said to the merriment of the surrounding guests as they stood in the Great Room of the Brighton Country Chalet. "And I thought I was nervous."

  Jessica giggled again, and he squeezed her hand. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she’d appeared in the room twenty minutes earlier. Her dress was white, despite her impending motherhood, and simple. The cut was almost peasant-like, but the materials were of the finest silk, lace and taffeta. A single string of white pearls adorned her neck, a balance to the sweeping neckline of the gown.

  Behind them, Christine wept with joy for her twin, feeling Jessica’s happiness inside her own heart. Roxanne, too, watched tearfully, remembering all that Jessica had been through during the past several months; no one deserved this rapturous day more than Jessie. A life with a man who’d flown 1,600 miles alone in a tiny plane to see to her safety; a man who’d risked it all, his very life, to protect her from harm; a man who would hold her above all others for eternity.

  Tom held Roxie tightly about the waist as they watched the couple, who’d of late become their closest friends, finally tie the knot on their fairy-tale courtship.

  "I now pronounce you, husband and wife."

  And Mac was kissing his bride: Mrs. Jessica Lynne MacKendall.

  Megan squirmed uncomfortably on the couch next to her grandmother. Reva MacKendall patted Megan’s hands briskly.

  "You settle down, honey. This is an important time for Daddy," she whispered, absently reaching down to touch the oxygen machine on the floor beside her feet.

  "Is he ever going to stop kissing her, Grammy?"

  "All too soon, dear…all too soon."

  The reception was more than festive. Jessica and Mac were waited upon like royalty, Megan sitting prominently between them on the loveseat while they opened their gifts.

  The Inn was closed for the July 21st weekend, and everyone stayed overnight before returning to their respective homes the following day, with the exception of Janet Taylor. Jessica’s mother planned a week’s vacation with her daughter and new granddaughter, Angelica, now three months old and adorable.

  "Three months old! What a big girl!" Jessica exclaimed as she held Angel on her lap.

  Mac, too, was enamored and took the baby from her, kissing the infant’s cheek affectionately.

  "Three months. Seems a long time ago." He turned his shining eyes onto his bride, conveying what he knew was a shared thought; their own child was most certainly conceived the night little Angel was born.

  "It’s about time I got a grandchild," Jan admonished, now stealing the child from Mac’s arms. "Always thought Jessica would be the first. Almost was." She turned and walked away from the couple, but her parting words were not lost on her daughter. Jessica set her jaw and got to her feet in pursuit.

  Moments later, she caught up with her mother in the kitchen.

  "Surely you don’t still think that miscarriage was my fault?" she demanded, her face growing warm at the painful memory of the beating she had suffered. "After everything I’ve been through, how could you even…"

  Her mother turned to face her, the infant still cradled in her arms. Jessica’s building rage was quickly extinguished by the glistening shine in her mother’s eyes.

  "I didn’t want to believe," Janet began, her chin quivering slightly. "I only wanted the best for you. I think I knew from the start, from the time you started dating Wesley that he was wrong, that he wasn’t good enough for you. But he loved you so, and I made that good enough for me. He used to ask me little things, you know, things about you, what cologne you liked, what flowers were best…and I couldn’t believe anyone as sweet as he was could hurt a girl like you."

  A tear escaped from her cheek and dampened the sleeping baby’s forehead. Jessica took a deep breath and struggled to remain composed.

  "Well, he did. Maybe if you had chosen to see that sooner, he wouldn’t have used you to get information about me. Maybe--"

  Her words had a devastating effect upon her mother. The normally bold, outspoken Janet Taylor was reduced to a trembling mass of remorse and regret, visibly shrinking before Jessica’s eyes. Suddenly her mother’s image was changed; she was no longer the powerful, dominating parent. Instead, the older woman before her was frightened, confused and ashamed of having succumbed to Wesley’s manipulation. Unable to bear her mother’s grief, Jessica rushed forward and embraced her and the infant, her own tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.

  "I’m sorry, Jessie. I was so blind. So stupid."

  "It’s okay. It’s all over now. Let’s just forget about it, ‘kay?" Jessica kissed her mother’s rouged cheek. "Come on. We’ve got to d
o this bridal garter thing."

  Somehow, the simple act of forgiveness made the burden of her horrific memories just a little lighter.

  ~ * ~

  Jessica and Mac spent their wedding night in the Zurich Suite. It was 10 p.m. before Mac was finally allowed to steal his bride away and carry her over the threshold of the suite, gently landing her on the round bed where they’d spent that first amorous night together. He ceremoniously kicked the door closed behind him.

  The heather gray tuxedo jacket was unceremoniously cast aside along with the rose bow tie and cummerbund. Mac fell down upon the bed beside her, and they stared at the ceiling together for several moments.

  "I don’t believe this," he murmured.

  "Neither do I," she said quietly.

  "So much has happened since we were here before."

  "Some of it I’d like to forget." Jessica touched his shoulder, just barely healed from where Wesley Elliot’s bullet had torn across his flesh. He’d bear the scar as a lifelong reminder of the day he’d fought to save the woman he loved from her deranged ex-husband.

  "God, I love you!" Mac declared passionately, grasping her chin in his fist affectionately. "Don’t ever go away, okay? I don’t think I could live without you, now." His voice was thick with emotion.

  "I’ll never go away, Cory. Never. You are my whole life." She touched his face, lightly dragging her fingers down his cheek and across his lips. "I can’t believe we’re married. We’re really married!" She giggled, making his dimples appear as he looked on her adoringly.

  "I missed you last night," he whispered, delicately fingering the pearls hanging from her neck. "I’m not too keen on these pre-nuptial traditions."

  "It’s bad luck."

  "We’ve slept in the same bed for three months."

  "I appreciate your humoring me, my husband," she chided.

  His eyes became warm and seductive, his fingers leaving the pearls and dipping into the cleavage exposed by the now misaligned gown as she lay on her side next to him.

  "Mac…" she pouted, her expression coy and teasing.

  "Jessie…" he mimicked her whining tone, moving his face close to hers. Jessica’s pulse quickened as she anticipated his kiss, but he stopped just short, his lips touching hers like feathers, brushing across them slowly. He tantalized her senses, teasing her, then extended his tongue just slightly to moisten her lips.

  Slowly he eased her backward until she was lying down, and he hovered over her, looking into her face before finally pressing his mouth firmly over hers. They kissed with the combined passion of all the lovers the heavens had ever blessed with true love. Jessica’s mind replayed again and again the sound of his voice saying "I do," her ultimate dream come true.

  Minutes later, Mac lifted his face for a breathless intermission. Jessica began once again working on the tuxedo studs on his shirt, and he grinned at her wickedly.

  "I think I need a shower."

  ~ * ~

  The "Dog Days" of August had indeed set in. The humidity magnified the L.A. smog and heated up the valleys to an unbearable degree. Even in the offices at Castle Studios, where new refrigerated air conditioners hissed from every vent, the air was heavy and close, and Mac impatiently fussed with the button on his shirt collar in hopes of some relief.

  "So. What’s the bottom line, Steve? Are we out?"

  "Well, Mac…we have a choice. Not a good one, mind you, but…we can bail out this season or get canceled next."

  Mac unconsciously chewed on his lip. His respiration stepped up; the heat was suddenly worse.

  "So, I’m out of work?"

  "Mac…come on, you’ll never be out of work. You’re too good. What I’m saying here is, we can go out now and grab other opportunities, if we want, if YOU want, or you can ride it out. Your choice, Mac."

  "MY choice? What about all the others? There’s a lot of people involved here."

  "All fine professionals. Being associated with Doctor Jim won’t tarnish their resumes one bit. And Mac," Steve asserted, lowering his tone, "you know New Dimension still wants you for that movie deal. Maybe it’s time."

  "Jesus, Steve, my wife’s expecting. I can’t do a film now…"

  "Just think about it, Mac. Maybe talk it over with Jessie. We’ll meet again on Monday."

  Mac was quiet that evening. He thought about explaining his dilemma to Jessica, but she seemed tired and away in her own thoughts. And he wanted to think it over some more first.

  In bed that night, Jessica mentioned his preoccupation. She laid her head on his shoulder and he reflexively wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as he stared at the ceiling.

  "Cory Lee," she whispered, tugging on a strand of his hair.

  "Hmmm?" he responded, not really paying her attention.

  "What’s on your mind?"

  "Nothin’ babe. It’s nothing." He kissed her forehead. "Better get to sleep, Mommy."

  Jessica sighed, stretching her fingers across his bare chest. She was soon asleep on his shoulder. Mac lay awake for another hour, wondering how the future would play out. He had an appointment in the morning with New Dimension Pictures.

  ~ * ~

  "It’s a fantastic opportunity, Mac. We’re in New Zealand for, say, three months. The role was meant for you. He’s an American transplant, trying to make it on a sheep ranch left him by a dead uncle. But there’s problems with water rights, squabbles from left-out relatives, you get the picture."

  Mac pulled at his bottom lip in contemplation.

  "Can we possibly shoot it in two?"

  "Ummm…would be tight."

  "I need to be here in December."

  "We can make it. If you take this, we’ll make it happen. What do you say?"

  "Give me a day, Jack. I can’t commit without talking with Jessie."

  "A day. Fine. I’ve waited long enough to get you into this office; you take as long as you want, only you’re the one with the time constraints. The sooner you say jump, the sooner we say ‘how high?’ Okay?"

  "You got it. Call you tomorrow."

  Her first maternity clothes were Mac’s mostly unworn dress shirts. Jessica looked around the nursery bedroom in frustration, noting the odd angles she’d have to measure for wallpaper. Armed with a tape measure, she busily set about making notes and marking the drab, unpainted walls with her ideas. Roxie would be picking her up in an hour.

  On the ladder, a pencil clenched in her teeth, she carefully drew out where the border would be pasted. The doorbell’s beckoning forced an oath from her mouth. Roxie was early.

  Jessica scrambled down the hall and threw open the front door. Stopping short, she caught her breath as she looked upon Dane Pierce standing on the porch, a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

  "Hey, sweetie…how’s the little mom?"

  Overwhelmed, she took the roses and gave Dane a brief hug.

  "They’re lovely, Dane. Thanks." She took them to the kitchen and immediately put them in water. "Gosh. What a surprise. How have you been?"

  "Fair to middlin’, as they say. You look good, Jess. And you should have told me you were pregnant. You never stop breaking my heart, do you?"

  "Dane…you must have had some reason for coming here today."

  "Alas, you’re right, my pet. I’m off on a new adventure, and I couldn’t go without telling my best girl good-bye."

  "What kind of adventure?" Jessica walked down the hall, returning to her work in the nursery as he followed her.

  "Malaysia, sweetie. Kuala Lumpur, then Singapore."

  "Whatever for?"

  "A film, Jess, a major friggin’ epic! The chance of a lifetime."

  "Are you joking?"

  "Not on your sweet life, darling. I’ll be gone six months, so I came by so you can send me off in style…" He reached for her and she swiftly moved aside.

  "Be serious. When do you leave?"

  "Tomorrow. And I won’t leave until you kiss me good-bye." His tone was now more serious, although the green eyes still danced
merrily and his expression was comically begging. "C’mon, Jess."

  "Dane, please. You know how I feel."

  "Yes, I do, and that’s why I’m here. You’d hate me if I left without saying good-bye."

  He had her there. She would have been hurt.

  "Jessica, there’s something I have to tell you. It’s pretty pointless, now, and I wish I could congratulate you on your marriage, but you’d know I was lying anyway…" Dane stopped her flitting about the room by grasping her forearms tightly in his strong hands. "Please listen."

  She stood still, peering into his face with wary anticipation.

  "This film I’m doing…there’s a certain amount of risk involved."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I can’t really say. It’s just that it’s a political venture, there’s some opposition to our being there, you understand…"

  "You’ll be in danger?"

  "Well, probably not, but…" Dane looked down briefly, then brought his eyes back to hers. "I just want you to know…you’ve been the most important woman in my life for…a long time. I don’t know if I’ll ever get past this obsession, Jessica. I…I wish I could tell you how I feel…" He paused again, searching for words. "Look. I won’t be here when, you know, the baby comes, and…well, let me know, okay? I’ll be thinking of you every day."

  "Of course," she said softly, feeling her walls trembling, her defenses threatened. But before she could tear away from his gaze, before she could assert her independence from him, Dane was kissing her good-bye with the conviction of a man going off to combat.

  She didn’t know what made her open her eyes. Perhaps it was the quick return of her resolve as Dane’s tongue began probing her mouth, bringing on the painful memory of their first kiss so long ago; perhaps it was the disillusion, the challenge to her belief that her mouth, her lips, all belonged to Mac, and Dane had no right to the liberties he was taking; or maybe it was just because she could feel Mac’s overwhelming presence as he stood in the nursery doorway.

  Jessica’s eyes widened in terror and she shoved Dane away from her. Startled, he followed her gaze to Mac, standing behind him.