Mac’s form lost stature as his body seemed to slump where he stood. His eyes were riveted to Jessica’s, filled with pain and growing fury. No one said a word until Mac himself murmured so softly she barely heard his suffering tone.
"Jessica…why?" He shook his head sadly, his defeated countenance encompassing his entire body. Then, setting his jaw, he drew in a decisive breath and was gone.
Entranced by the horror of what had transpired, both Jessica and Dane snapped from their spell and started after him, calling out for him to stop. But Mac was beyond hearing anything except whatever angry, bitter words were screaming in his own mind. He reached the gravel drive and pulled the keys to the Lotus from his pocket.
"Mac, listen, it’s not like it looks, pal," Dane shouted, trotting after him. When Mac didn’t stop, Dane grabbed his shoulder with the intention of turning Mac around.
Mac did turn, and in doing so wound Dane’s collar tightly around his fisted fingers, bringing the paled knuckles of his right hand close to Dane’s chin. His voice was cold and threatening when he spoke the acid words he’d chosen for Dane.
"No, you listen to me, pal," he spat, his face close to Dane’s. "You know, I almost like you Pierce, but you’re bad news--and I don’t ever want to see your face here again, you got that?"
"Go ahead, MacKendall, finish the job. Finish what you started in Amande." Dane baited him. "Come on, if it’ll make you feel better."
Mac stared at his own fist, balled in rage and poised before Dane’s face. He remembered with startling clarity the night at the hospital in Amande, when he’d slammed it into Dane’s cheek, all because of Jessica. Jessie and Dane; would it never end?
Slowly he let go of Dane’s shirt and turned toward the car.
"Really, Mac, it was my doing. I just came here to tell her good-bye. I’m leaving," Dane began, guiltily trying to rectify the situation.
"Good," Mac replied coolly, getting into the Lotus. "Then why don’t you just take her with you." He glanced briefly at Jessica, standing numb with shock behind the car, one arm protectively across her slightly swelling abdomen and the other holding shaking fingers to her lips. Lips that had just been intimate with Dane Pierce. Mac again shook his head at her, then hit the throttle on the sleek, white sports car and was gone.
Dane turned to Jessica, his face awash with remorse. Wordlessly she turned and went inside, and he followed.
She sat down on the couch. He sat beside her and leaned forward on his fists. She didn’t cry, despite the depth of her internal pain.
"He’s gone."
"He’ll be back, Jess."
"No. I promised him, and I’ve broken the promise."
"What promise?"
"That what just happened would never happen."
Dane cleared his throat. "It was my fault, I indulged myself…I, I’m sorry, Jess. I’m truly sorry."
"Forget it, Dane. I should have thrown you a right hook, between the legs…like he taught me." A brief, ironic smile played on her lips as she recalled the night she’d confided in Mac about her fear of Dane’s power over her. Back in the old house, ages ago. He’d demonstrated with his fist how she could ward off Dane’s advances. "But I didn’t. I stood there and let you…I let you." Her voice faltered as she again touched her lips, despising herself for succumbing to Dane’s seductive game. Again.
Dane stood and paced across the room, staring blindly out at the pool. Hot Santa Ana winds were blowing. "I love you, Jessica. You know that, I hope. I would never want to cause trouble for you. But I am trouble, Mac was right. The sooner I’m away from here, the better. I hope you understand that I couldn’t go without saying good-bye."
"Of course," she said softly. "Of course."
"Look. I’ll talk to him before I go. I’ll make him understand you had nothing to do with what happened. I’ll do this for you, Jess, I promise."
"You’re not too good at promises, Dane," she reminded him. "I appreciate your concern, but it won’t do any good. He’s gone now."
The room was in near darkness. Jessica sat on the floor, unaware that the sun had gone and she had not turned on a single lamp in the house. Her swollen eyes, rimmed with the red of a million tears, could tell no difference between day and night. On the table, the answering machine light blinked incessantly with nine messages, unanswered. Oh, she’d listened to the callers as they’d left their words for her later review, but no voice had been the one she’d wanted to hear.
Mac had not returned. It had been four days…or was it five now? It was hard to say; after the first two lonely nights she’d become unconscious of the hour, the day, the weather.
He’d called once, the morning after the first night.
"If you need to reach me in an emergency, call Bill." His words had been crisp and impartial.
"Mac, please," she had begun tentatively.
"Not now, Jessica." He’d hung up after delivering his edict without saying good-bye.
The nine messages? Both Roxie and Dane had called twice; Mac’s boss, his accountant, his agent; some travel agency looking for Mac. And, Teddy Langley, Jessica’s own agent.
She’d called Roxie once, of course; Roxanne was her best friend and was the only one she felt would truly understand. And Dane had called from the airport. Mac would not return the messages he’d left all over town.
Roxie had finally realized that Jessica had stopped answering the phone, and was trekking across the Valley almost daily to care for her dearest friend.
She was letting herself in now, as Jessica sat alone in the dark.
"Jess? Where are you?"
"Here, Rox."
"It’s dark in here," Roxie mumbled, reaching for a table lamp. "How you feeling, honey?"
"Feel? I don’t. My feelings are all gone."
"Okay. Get up. Let’s do something. A movie?"
Jessica didn’t respond.
"Anybody call?" Roxie ventured lamely.
"Teddy." Jessica’s eyes had not moved from their gaze out the back at the pool, the automatic garden lights having just come on.
"Dane’s gone?"
"He called from the airport. He delayed his flight until last night…trying to reach Mac."
They did nothing the whole evening. Roxie had brought a suitcase and temporarily moved into Jessie’s old bedroom, not wanting her friend to be alone. She believed Mac would see his way clear to come home soon. Or rather, she hoped.
The days became a week, then nearly two weeks; Roxie spent half her time commuting between Laurel Canyon and North Hills, and even Tom Jarrick spent time in the MacKendall household. Jessica was despondent and nearly non-communicative with her friends. Roxie made numerous phone calls trying to reach Mac, and listened with shocked ears as someone at Castle Studios told her Doctor Jim was no longer in production. They hadn’t seen Cory MacKendall in two weeks.
Roxie withheld this news from Jessica, fearing it more damaging than not. Desperate, she finally dialed Bill Campbell’s number, Mac’s former co-star and friend. Bill answered, and Roxie took a deep breath.
"This is Roxanne Boudreau."
"Roxie? Hi--Bill; we met at the wedding."
"Yes, I remember. Uh, sorry to bother you, Bill, but I need to talk to Mac. It’s important."
"He’s not here, Roxie. He’s out. Is there a message? Is everything okay? With Jessie, I mean?"
"No. I mean, yes. She’s fine, I mean, she’s okay, health-wise…Oh Jesus, I’m not saying this right. What the hell is Mac doing, Bill?"
Bill was quiet for a moment, then spoke hesitantly. "I’m sorry, Roxie, I wish I could tell you. He’s sleeping here, but that’s about it. He’s tighter than a clam. He only said that I should let him know if anyone called about his wife, in an urgent manner, you know?"
"You really don’t know where he is?"
"He’s working, I believe. That’s all I know."
"Thanks, Bill. I really appreciate the information. If you see him, tell him…ask him to call me? I’m working at the Lan
gley Agency."
Roxanne put down the phone and stood up, gathering her notes and her purse. "Teddy? I’m leaving. I’ll be at Jessie’s if you get any calls for me."
Roxie sighed heavily as she fell into the bucket seat of her Trans Am. She sat motionless, staring out the windshield deep in thought. How could this have happened? No two people on Earth were happier than Jessie and Mac. The baby was due in less than five months. Damn that Dane Pierce!
Try as they might, Roxie and Tom could not convince Jessica to leave the house for anything other than her monthly pre-natal exam. She was convinced that the minute she left, Mac would be there, accepting her forgiveness and ready to take her back…and as days passed, Roxie lost hope that it would ever happen. He hadn’t even returned her call.
She tried to get Jessica involved in various projects, encouraging her to finish the decorating of the baby’s room; Jessica had not set foot in the nursery since the day Mac had walked out. She did, however, take great pains to keep her body functioning and healthy, for the sake of the baby, she stubbornly told Roxie. Religiously taking her vitamins, walking the grounds in the morning, and watching the baby-care videos given her by Dr. Anderson, Jessica would not let her emotional state affect the progress of the tiny infant growing within her.
~ * ~
It was after the viewing of one such video that Jessica became mesmerized, staring spellbound at the television where her husband’s most adoring smile was offered to some unknown actress. The VCR had snapped off and Doctor Jim was already in progress on the network. She watched in hypnotic amazement as he kissed the woman with great tenderness. Jessica’s heart lurched painfully in her chest and she felt the tears spring back into her eyes once again.
Only something new was happening. Her hands shot to her abdomen; what was that? A curious flutter, like the wings of butterflies brushing ever so lightly against the insides of her womb…no, no, more like a small, bubbly effervescence. It was the baby! The baby was moving!
The revulsion she felt watching Mac kiss the actress subsided. Here was something new, and wonderful. She left the couch and crawled to the television screen, placing her hands lovingly against his face on the screen. "Oh, Mac…" she whispered.
In the doorway, Roxie’s eyes filled with tears watching Jessica’s pathetic gesture. This could not go on much longer.
"Get up, you lazy-bones!" Roxie called to Jessica the next morning.
Jessica only moaned softly and pulled a pillow over her head.
"Up! Now! We’ve got to beat the crowds!"
"What crowds…"
"Nordstrom’s is having their Labor Day sale! And you, my dear, have GOT to start wearing some maternity clothes."
"No. I can’t go."
"You’re going, if I have to get Tom over here to load you into the car. Now get up."
Somehow, Roxie persuaded Jessica to go shopping. Removing her from "Casa MacKendall," as Roxie called it, was good for Jessie, and her spirits lifted noticeably. They even entered a baby store and looked at layette items, Jessica eyeing tiny pink dresses with delight.
"You want a girl?" Roxie asked, smiling.
"Oh, I don’t know," Jessica said wistfully. "Either will be wonderful…right now, all I want is my husband back." Despite the sorrow in her voice, Jessica managed a small smile that was encouraging to Roxie.
"He’ll be back, Jess. Mark my words. Healing takes time."
"Healing is slow when you’re alone. I know that, but he doesn’t. If he’d just come home and talk to me…"
Roxie was impressed. This was the most Jessica had spoken about Mac since the first few days after he left.
They ate lunch at the mall.
"What do you think about writing him a letter?" Roxie ventured.
"I did, but I tore it up. It was morose," Jessie admitted.
"It might not be a bad idea," Roxie coaxed. "Morose or not, what’s the worst that could happen? Even if he called to dispute it, at least he’d be talking, right?"
That night, Jessica sat down to write the letter. Torn between pouring her heart out and being light and newsy, like in the old days, she opted for straight forward and honest. She knew her husband too well.
September 1st
My Dearest Cory,
How do I begin to tell you how I feel, how filled with pain and remorse I am in your absence? It is hard enough to deal with what has happened without the added barrier of your silence. There is no true "excuse" for what has happened, no salve to cover our wounds, but you should know the truth about that day.
Dane, as you probably already know, has gone to Malaysia for a six-month stay. You happened home just as he had stopped in to say good-bye. Unfortunately, it is not in Dane’s nature to do things in a small way, as I am sure you are aware, and his parting display of affection was not what it seemed. You saw what you expected, what you wanted to see, not what was really happening.
Mac, my darling, I know you are hurting beyond belief or you would be here with me now. Please know that I, too, am hurting from the absence of your touch, your smile, your love; and most importantly, the loss of your trust. I know, that despite this terrible impasse in our lives, it would comfort you to know that our baby is doing fine and growing healthy. The miracle of his (or her!) stirrings within me is incredible. I want so badly to share this with you.
Please turn your eyes to your heart and soul and find me living there, waiting for you. I must confess to you, my first instinct was to flee to Utah, again, to hide out with Chrissie until you made a move to show that you wanted me back. But I’ve learned something new--I’ve gained a new discipline from my loving, cherished husband. I’m ready to fight, Mac. Please--come home and fight with me.
Yours, forever, Jessica
Sixteen
Devastation, Devotion
New Zealand was not as he expected. He had a few days to poke around before filming would begin, and he aimlessly walked the streets in Wellington, hiding behind dark glasses, hands in his jacket pockets. Small shops lined the street. Mac briefly explored these, pausing to handle various souvenirs and curios that caught his eye. The people were particularly friendly.
The street ended at the dock, and here Mac took in the sights, sounds and smells of a small part of New Zealand’s fishing industry as he walked. He passed bins, crates full of live crabs, lobsters, mollusks; baskets filled with freshly caught fish.
He thought on the letter he’d hastily penned before leaving the United States.
9/02
Dear Jessica,
I regret that I cannot deliver this news in person, but I am not yet ready to see you; my thoughts are not particularly rational and I fear I may do irreparable damage to an already bad situation.
Yes, it is me running this time, my love, I wish things were different, wish that what has happened had not. By the time you read this I will have landed in Wellington, New Zealand, to begin work on a new project. It is unfortunately without enthusiasm that I approach this unexpected windfall to my career. I am sure you know by now that "Doc Jim" has met its demise. This film is one I’ve been wanting to do for many years, and it should do very well.
Jessica, I wish I could explain what is going on inside of me, the constant nagging, crashing around of anger and spite that won’t end. I can’t, won’t pretend that I am anything but incensed about finding Dane in our home with you in his selfish, greedy embrace. It drives me to the point of fury every time I think about it. I’m sorry, but you know and have always known how I feel about you and Dane. I want to be different about it, but I can’t. Please believe that I am trying, every minute of every day, to sort this out and make it go away.
I know this is difficult for you, too. I sometimes feel you are just an innocent in all this; you have a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, especially where Dane Pierce is concerned. It is my expectation that he will not be far from you while I am gone, and I know, realistically, there is nothing I can do to stop him from pursuing you. And I
won’t ask you again, Jessica. I’m on my knees only once.
I will ask you this: please take care of yourself and our child. It is the promise of this baby that keeps my heart from dying entirely within the turmoil that exists between us. I will be there to help deliver him into our world, and maybe this will be the key--?
I will be in and out of the Plaza International Hotel in Wellington. I’m told we’re there for three months. I hope you will call me in any emergency that should arise. I have said a brief good-bye to Megan; she does not know about us. I would appreciate your discretion when you speak to her, it would be hurtful for her to know that we are having problems.
This is all I have to say. There is, of course, much, much more, if only I were not so very locked up inside. Please try to understand. I love you.
Mac
The letter was crushed painfully in Jessica’s clenched, damp fist. She crumbled onto the bed, dissolving into tears. She could see Mac’s face before her, the hurt in his solemn brown eyes, the accusing look as he stood in the doorway that awful day. She began whispering his name repeatedly, urgently, incoherently. Holding her pregnant belly in her arms, she rocked softly on the bed, closing her eyes tightly, wishing him back with all her will.
~ * ~
Mac answered his hotel room door in irritation. He’d been trying to nap but sleep was an elusive luxury, no longer an option. A hotel employee was handing him a FedEx International envelope. He took it, fishing a bill from his pocket for the bellman.
It was from Bill Campbell. Inside, was a note and an envelope.
Mac--this arrived the day you left. Thought it might be important. Hope all’s okay. I’m going up to Tahoe for a few days, but will be back Saturday. Call if you need anything.--Bill
The letter was, of course, from Jessica. Mac quickly tore it open and unfolded the pages with trembling hands.
"My Dearest Cory…" Tears invaded the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he stared at the words. "My Dearest Cory…" he read again, blinking.
He rubbed his eyes periodically while reading. Suddenly he froze to his spot. Dane, gone? For six months? How could he not have known that? Then he remembered the stack of messages from Dane, the day after the incident; and his angry, stubborn refusal to take Dane’s calls. So that was it.
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