Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  "God-damned-son-of-a--BITCH!" Mac screamed, getting out of the car and slamming his door heatedly. The truck driver approached him in concern.

  "You all right, man?"

  "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. But I’m gonna take out that asshole up there!" he shouted, thrusting his arm in the direction where the Corvette had come to a stop, the truck’s right front wheel having clipped it. Others had stopped and were gathering around the truck and the two cars. Mac strode purposefully toward the Corvette, pushing his way through the crowd to where the driver was just getting out.

  Mac grabbed the seventeen-year-old by the shoulder, whipping him around to face him. "You asshole! What the hell did you think you were doing?"

  The rain washed the tears from the boy’s face before they could be detected, and Mac stared at him blindly.

  "Are you high or just crazy?"

  "I--I--I’m sorry…" the boy cried.

  Mac was beside himself with anger and frustration. It was illegal to leave the scene, but he was considering just that as a California Highway Patrol rolled to a stop behind the Lotus.

  "Can we make this quick? I have to get home." Mac asked, tight-lipped.

  "Sure, buddy. We all do."

  ~ * ~

  "Wash your hands. Go get a baby blanket, from the nursery. And get two bath towels from the cabinet. Hurry!" Jessica snapped orders as Dane rushed around in terror, both of them praying that Mac would arrive soon.

  Gingerly Jessica reached between her legs and felt the progress of the baby’s head. Nothing felt familiar; in her mind, she envisioned herself splitting apart.

  Dane’s face was as white as the tiny, snowy blanket he carefully put beside her on the bed. "What do you want to do with these towels?"

  "Put them under me. Now, Dane!"

  Swallowing hard, he helped her spread the towels on the bed beneath her hips and thighs, and she was again sitting forward in intense pain.

  "Oh God, oh GOD…Dane, I think…I…have to…start pushing," she panted.

  "NO! Not yet?!" Dane was panicked. "I mean, okay…okay…"

  Mac’s voice from the kitchen was the most welcome sound either had ever heard. Bursting into the room, he rushed to Jessica as Dane stepped aside in relief.

  "What’s happening?" he demanded, turning to Dane while taking Jessica into his arms.

  "Uh…she’s uh, having the baby, Mac." Dane grinned, but panic still accented his voice. "We’re all ready, just waiting for you," he added comically.

  "Okay…I’m here, baby. Everything will be fine," he told her, regretting the tears in her eyes that reflected the candlelight. "Dane! In the garage, on the shelf above the truck is a Coleman lantern. Get it!" After Dane had skipped from the room, Mac whipped the sheet off of Jessica and examined her progress. "Damn," he muttered softly. The baby was crowning.

  Stripping off his drenched jacket and tossing it aside, he started away and Jessica shrieked.

  "Don’t leave me! Mac! Don’t leave!"

  "I’m just getting something from the bathroom. I’m not going anywhere, sugar. Hold on."

  He scrubbed his hands, then returned with a pair of scissors, a hair clasp, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol which he placed on the nightstand.

  "Oh God, Oh God--I have to push…"

  "Okay. Here we go."

  He sat facing her at the foot of the bed. Dane had the lantern going moments later, and stood expectantly at the door.

  "Dane! Wash your hands and get over here to help me."

  Dane looked at his hands with a frown, then hurried into the bathroom. When he rejoined them, Mac had his hands between Jessica’s legs. Dane’s eyes were wide as he watched, and he gripped the bedpost for support.

  "Prop some pillows behind her," Mac ordered, and Dane busily began stuffing pillows behind Jessica’s back as she sat up, pushing with all her strength. Furiously she clawed at the sheet, holding her breath as the most violent of her contractions shuddered across her body.

  "Okay…good girl…keep pushing…" Mac’s face was intense as he helped the baby’s head to slip away from Jessica’s body, supporting it as the shoulders appeared. The contraction subsided and Jessica collapsed back into Dane’s arms as he sat almost behind her now, supporting her shoulders as she pushed. But there was no time for rest, as the spasm began again, almost immediately. "Come on, Jessie. Almost over. Just a little more, babe…God, this is incredible." Mac watched in fascination as the rest of the baby nearly rushed out into his waiting hands. A slow grin was spreading on his lips as he gazed down at the tiny infant whose face was now contorting with its first lusty cry.

  Jessica had again fallen back against Dane, her eyes closed in utter exhaustion, her chest heaving in labored respiration. Tearing his eyes away from the small package he held, Mac looked to Jessica excitedly.

  "Well?" she asked softly, now opening her eyes expectantly.

  "Well, ten little fingers, ten tiny little toes…and one little pecker," he replied happily. "A son." Carefully he looked the baby over, checking for anything that might be amiss, trying to remember the details of Megan’s birth.

  "Whew! Glad that’s over with," Dane said with a sigh, reaching for the cloth to wipe Jessica’s face and then his own. "That was tough work."

  Mac flashed him a rueful smile. "Hand me the scissors, Hercules."

  "Scissors?" Dane seemed to pale at the prospect of Mac’s intention, but handed over the shears quickly and Mac took care of cutting the umbilical cord, using the barrette as a clamp.

  "Now the blanket."

  Dane complied, and Mac carefully wrapped the tiny boy and took him to Jessica. The flickering light of the candles and the old lantern cast a warm glow on their faces as they took turns peeking into the child’s face, and Dane moved to the doorway.

  "Well, I think you kids will be all right now," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  "No, go with us to the hospital. I need your help, man." Mac stood and faced Dane.

  "Naw, you’re under control, Doc. I, uh, have to go home and…tame a shrew."

  "I’ll walk you out." Mac pulled open the drawer in the nightstand and retrieved a small flashlight.

  "Dane, wait." Jessica’s voice interrupted them, and Dane went back to her bedside. "I want to thank you, and to say I’m sorry for being such a witch--"

  "The word is ‘bitch,’ Jessica. But no matter. I’m used to it." The laughing green eyes caressed her.

  Overcome by emotion, she touched his cheek with her free hand and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He then kissed the baby’s tiny head before straightening up to rejoin Mac.

  On the porch, Mac pulled the cell phone from his hip pocket where he had hastily stashed it. He stared at it for several seconds, then pulled a small crumbled paper from the other pocket, handing the flashlight to Dane. He dialed, rubbing his eyes wearily.

  "Yes. This is…Cory MacKendall. I…" he paused, his mind suddenly short circuited. "My wife…" Mac stared at the charcoal sky, noticing the rain had stopped. Dane took the phone from Mac’s hand.

  "We’ve just delivered a baby. We need some transportation to the hospital. That’s right, MacKendall. You got the address? Good. We’ll have the kid and the mom at the curb."

  Mac’s face was still a blank, and Dane watched him, slowly closing the phone and slipping it back into Mac’s hand.

  "Tough day?" Dane murmured, his eyes demanding Mac’s attention.

  Mac rubbed his face again, shaking his head as if to rid himself of whatever spell had befallen him. "I’m sorry," he said. "I’m toast."

  "I can see that. How’s your mom?"

  "Not good. Any time now."

  Dane shook his head and looked away. "That’s rough," he murmured. He kicked at the bumper of the Porsche, parked askew just inches from the front porch post.

  "I guess you were in a hurry," Mac said.

  "Where’s your car?" Dane asked, looking down the long, empty driveway behind the Porsche.

  "It’s totaled," Ma
c offered simply. "I hitched a ride." Despite Dane’s shocked expression, Mac did not elaborate on the subject of his accident. "Dane, I can’t thank you enough for what you did tonight."

  "I can’t thank you enough for showing up when you did."

  "Shit, man, you could have done it."

  "No way." Dane smiled, shaking his head. "I’d better take off. Jackie’s…a might peeved, shall we say?"

  Mac looked at him in silent remorse. He knew it would be more than inappropriate to offer his advice about Jackie. Instead, he slapped Dane on the shoulder.

  "Take care, man."

  "Goodnight, Mac."

  Twenty

  New Year, New Fear

  "But it’s supposed to be the safest car on the road."

  "I don’t care. I’m not driving a Volvo, Mac. Find something else."

  Jessica’s jaw was firm as she sat up in the hospital bed, facing Mac where he sat opposite her, cross-legged at the foot of the bed with the Times classified spread in front of him. Defiantly she dug at the bowl of too-hard ice cream on the tray in her lap.

  Mac looked up at her determined expression, sighed, and returned his gaze to the newspaper. "How about a Benz? Here’s that new one, nice and big, four doors…" Again he looked up, expectantly.

  Jessica shook her head. "Keep looking."

  Mac’s own jaw was beginning to work in frustration as Dane entered the room and stood beside the bed.

  "You two must work at setting up these enormously ‘cute’ scenes. Now, if I was sitting on the bed instead of you, they’d call me lewd. How are you doing, Doctor MacKendall?" Dane grinned and ran his hand across Mac’s shoulder.

  "Awfully affectionate this morning, Uncle Dane."

  "Well, I just had a taco and my fingers were greasy."

  "I’m trying to find a new car for my spoiled wife. Any suggestions?"

  "God! The perfect yuppie couple. Three vehicles, all two-seaters. Maybe you could install a baby seat in the back of the Ford? Good morning, sweetie." Much to Mac’s chagrin, Dane sat between them on the bed, leaning forward to gain a hug from Jessica. The newspaper became a crumpled mess.

  "Mornin’ Dane. You look like you were up all night," Jessica teased. "You didn’t really have a taco for breakfast."

  "No, actually, it was two ninety-nine cent fajitas." Dane stood from the bed as Mac tried in vain to reassemble the paper. "Mac, the girls want to come in. Buy me a cup of coffee."

  "How about an Acura NSX?" Jessica asked, beaming to Mac’s expression of disgust. Ignoring her question, Mac followed Dane to the door.

  "Sure, man. You want to drive me to the Volvo dealer?"

  Choosing a corner table, both warily scanning the cafeteria for press and fans hoping to ambush them, the two men sat down with coffee.

  "You won’t believe this," Dane began, his face serious as he drew a folded pink paper from his breast pocket.

  "What did they find?"

  "The brake line had a hole in it."

  "Shit, that car was brand new. I’ve never heard of a defect like that." Mac scanned the service order.

  "No. The hole had been cut." Dane’s voice was low and heavy. Mac stared at him in disbelief and mounting terror as realization set in.

  "Someone?"

  Dane nodded slowly. "The guy said there was no mistaking the cut. It was a small hole, probably leaking slowly for a couple of days. There was just enough fluid left to slow you down. Might have been okay if the pavement had been dry."

  Mac rubbed his mouth then leaned against his fist. "Who would do a thing like that?"

  "A fan?"

  "When I think of how many times Jess has driven that car during the last month…she loved that car. It could have happened when she was driving it."

  "Maybe it was supposed to." Dane’s eyes were sober as he stared into Mac’s.

  "No. No…this can’t be happening."

  "There should be a police investigation, you know."

  "She can’t go through this again. If they’ve released Wesley Elliot, I’ll kill him. I swear it."

  "They haven’t."

  Mac again stared at Dane. "I already checked," Dane assured him, reaching across the table to grasp Mac’s arm. "Hey, man. Chill out. Maybe it was just vandalism. We’ll just keep our eyes open." He paused while Mac took a deep breath. "Let’s go buy the brat a Volvo."

  ~ * ~

  "Oh, honey, he’s beautiful! He’s just the most precious thing." Roxie leaned over the sleeping baby in the bassinet beside Jessica’s bed.

  "Thanks, Roxie. He was a lot of work, he has to be worth it, right?" Jessica grimaced as she adjusted her position.

  "Pretty sore, Jess?" Jackie asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

  "Sore…is a euphemism. I can barely walk," she laughed, lovingly stroking the wind-up musical lamb Jackie had brought.

  She had not seen Jackie since Thanksgiving, and was afraid to look at her now, afraid she might reveal her knowledge of Jackie’s betrayal. She did look, however, and managed a concealing smile. Jackie, she noticed, appeared uneasy and bore a bruise and a small cut beneath her eye. Jessica’s own eyes widened in alarm, and she spoke before thinking.

  "What happened to your eye?"

  "Last night, the power went off while Dane was gone…I stumbled over Alex’s fire truck and fell. Dumb me, walking around in the dark when we must have five flashlights."

  Jessica nodded but felt suspicion. Roxie noticed the interchange and jumped into the conversation.

  "Tom will be by soon, Jess. He’s meeting with our broker."

  "Broker? As in real estate?"

  "Yeah…"

  "What does this mean?"

  "We’re thinking of buying a house! I didn’t want to tell you until we were sure."

  "God, how exciting!"

  "I know," Roxie paused, her face beaming. "And you’ve had a baby…and you’re getting married. How about that? Who would’ve thought back in college…the three of us…by the way, how are the wedding plans coming? Set a date yet?"

  Jackie adjusted her purse strap uneasily. "No. With the picture and all, you know, Dane’s not sure when…"

  Both Roxie and Jessica nodded but regarded each other silently as Jackie took her leave moments later.

  ~ * ~

  "Did I look like that when I was a baby, Daddy?"

  "Yeah, sorta. Except your hair was darker."

  Megan peered into Devon’s tiny face again, her right arm wrapped protectively around the infant car seat as the Volvo cruised along the freeway toward Westlake.

  "See, it rides really nice," Mac ventured.

  "I can’t see him. Is he okay?" Jessica asked, turned around and looking into the backseat. "I hate the way that car seat has to sit backwards."

  "He’s fine. He’s still asleep," Megan answered matter-of-factly.

  "Jessica?"

  "It’s fine, darling. Really."

  "I checked everything out myself. The steering, the lights, the brakes…"

  "Don’t you trust the dealer?"

  "Sure. It’s just a thing I have about cars."

  Jessica ran her hand through Mac’s shaggy golden locks. "I love you," she murmured. Pushing his head back against her fingers, Mac smiled.

  "I thought you would hate me for buying this conventional car."

  "I would drive the Ford if you wanted me to. And anyway, I still have my Miata." She paused, looking across the dashboard. "It’s not really ugly. Just boring."

  "We could use a little ‘boring’ for awhile." Mac sighed as he spoke, glancing anxiously into the rear view mirror.

  ~ * ~

  "Mom? We’re here." Mac whispered into his mother’s ear and she opened her eyes slowly, disoriented and confused.

  "Cory? It’s almost time, Cory."

  "I know, Mom. We’ve brought your grandson, Devon Charles. I’m going to crank you up, Mom. Hang on." Mac pressed the button on the electric bed so that his mother was sitting more upright. Carefully he took the tiny infant from Je
ssica’s arms and cradled him for his mother’s viewing.

  "Charles? After your father, Cory? Oh, he’ll like that. He’ll be happy to hear it." Turning her tired eyes onto the baby, she lifted a shaking, withered hand to touch Devon’s small chin. A weak smile tried to form on her lips.

  "He’s a picture of you, Cory. A picture. He’ll do you proud." Her eyes wandered away from the baby. "Where is Charlene?"

  "Charlene’s not here, Mom."

  "Yes I am."

  A woman’s voice came from the corner of the room, and they turned to look at its maker. She had striking strawberry-blonde hair, piled into a messy bun on the back of her head and brown eyes that looked like they’d seen too much of the world for a woman of thirty-two years. Her clothing was expensive but seemed garish in the solemnity of the hospital room; hastily assembled, like her coiffure.

  The surprise on Mac’s face reflected his astonishment as he gazed upon his sister after a ten year estrangement. Mac had not thought she would show up; despite the fact that he’d called her at Thanksgiving, Charlene could not be counted on for anything except trouble. Her attitude on the phone had been one of self-servitude, asking him what was in it for her.

  He handed Devon to Jessica and moved aside as Charlene approached the bed and peered down at Reva without emotion.

  "Hello, Mother." She glanced around at Jessica, then Mac. "I see Cory’s brought his nice little family here to watch you fade away."

  "Cool it, Charlene. Mom’s feeling good today, aren’t you?"

  "Charlene? Are you okay, dear? Please don’t fight with your brother. They’re his toys, you have toys of your own. Don’t make me have to punish you."

  Charlene stared levelly at Mac. Unable to stand her hateful gaze, Mac turned back to Reva and leaned to kiss her cheek.

  "It’s okay Mom. We won’t fight. Just rest now."

  "Keep an eye on your sister, Cory. She’s not strong like you. I’m going to rest now."

  Reva closed her eyes and drifted away from them, this time forever. As if clairvoyant, two nurses suddenly appeared and examined the old woman as Charlene stepped back into the shadows. Jessica’s eyes filled with tears as Mac bowed his head to his mother’s breast in sorrow. A young nurse’s aide came to Jessica’s side and took Devon from her arms, freeing her to comfort her grieving husband.