Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  Gently pulling him away from Reva’s still form, Jessica embraced him tightly and he pressed his face into her neck. After a time he straightened and wiped his eyes, looking around the room for his sister. Charlene was gone.

  ~ * ~

  "I guess you’re probably wondering about Charlene."

  "No, I’m not. I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to walk again."

  It was midnight, and Mac had just settled Megan into bed. Jessica sat before the fireplace, Devon asleep in her arms. Mac had barely spoken a word on the way home, and Jessica had left him to his own thoughts. Now she shook her head to herself as she watched him walk about the kitchen, trying to restore order to the mess they’d left the night before.

  "Come sit with me. Leave that stuff for Gretchen."

  Mac paused, then wearily switched off the kitchen light. Soon he was beside her on the couch, his arm around her, his eyes on his small sleeping son.

  "What did we name him? Devon?"

  Jessica turned to peer into Mac’s tired face. "Been a hell of a week, hasn’t it?" she asked softly. His answer was to tilt his head against hers in exhaustion.

  "God, I am so damned tired I can’t move. There is so much I have to do."

  "But not right now. Your last duty for today is to help me get into bed."

  "Wouldn’t consider sleeping right here, would you? No, I didn’t think so," he whispered comically, slowly dragging himself to his feet. "You need the bassinet, right?"

  "It’s in the nursery. If you could just roll it into our room…unless you’d rather we sleep in the other room so you can get some rest?"

  Mac frowned down at her, then left to retrieve the bassinet.

  Minutes later he fell into bed beside Jessica with a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling for several moments before speaking.

  "I would never want you to sleep anywhere else. You are the only sure thing in my life. I need you." He turned and embraced her fiercely. "I knew she was dying, I knew it, and still I expected her to live forever. I can’t believe she’s really gone."

  Jessica stroked his hair tenderly, and he knew she was trying to absorb his grief. So much had happened; they had much to talk about, about the funeral, Megan’s future, and…Charlene. But it could wait until morning.

  Ten minutes later he was asleep, holding her tightly, his head rising with her breathing as he lay against her breast.

  ~ * ~

  Jessica was relieved that Mac didn’t awaken when Devon did at three and again at six, crying to be fed and changed. Wearily she kept Devon in their bed, nestled against her as she drifted back to sleep at seven.

  It was the baby’s stirrings that woke Jessica again at nine; the sun was streaming into the room, and she opened her eyes to see Mac propped on his elbow, lovingly gazing on Devon’s tiny form and touching his miniature fingers with his own.

  "He says he’s going to play catcher for the Twins."

  ~ * ~

  They buried Reva the next day. It was generally agreed that it would be better to put the funeral behind them before New Year’s Eve was upon them.

  It was a small group of mourners, a short ceremony, with Mac and Jessica’s closest friends attending. None of Reva’s nursing home acquaintances were quite travel worthy, but many sent condolences and flowers. Roxie had made the arrangements, and had hastily put together a brief reception at the MacKendall home with catered food and domestic help.

  Mac moved about in an animated fashion, seeming almost too normal for what had transpired; Jessica was preoccupied with Devon’s care and with looking after Megan, whom, like her father, behaved in a "business as usual" mode. Tom made a grand effort to lift spirits, and Roxie was her normal, optimistic self. Only Dane Pierce seemed somber, pensive and watchful.

  Charlene MacKendall had attended the funeral but had stood apart from the family. Now dressed in black jeans and gray sweater, a black, wide brimmed hat and a long, black wool coat, she stopped traffic in the MacKendall kitchen as she walked through the front door.

  The black hat and somber clothing lit up her red-blonde hair and scarlet fingernails. She looked expectantly at Mac.

  "Glad you could join us. Everybody, this is Charlene. My sister."

  Charlene nodded coolly at the others and helped herself to a glass of whiskey from Dane’s bottle. Dane’s eyes were deep green as he appraised the woman from where he sat in the corner of the kitchen. Charlene returned his cold gaze and turned her back.

  Emptying her glass and pouring herself another, Charlene motioned for Mac to join her in the hall. When he did, she took out a cigarette and a match.

  "Sorry." Mac took the matches from her hand. "What do you want? Surely you didn’t come all the way here from Minnesota to say good-bye to Mom."

  "But of course I did, Cory. And to take home what is rightfully mine." She paused to run her fingers down the expensive picture frame on the wall. "I’ve been here a couple of weeks, you know. I’ve checked around; you seem to be doing pretty damned good."

  "Get to the point."

  "You’ve been taking care of Mom, with all this dough. Surely the old bat didn’t piss away all of Daddy’s money?"

  His anger flared and Mac raised his hand as if to strike her, then lowered it slowly to his side.

  "Get out. Get out of my house. And make sure you never show your disgusting face here again."

  "What’s the matter, big brother? You gone soft? Afraid your mousy little wife might not like to see you hit a woman? Come on, surely you haven’t hidden your nasty temper all this time?"

  "I’ve dealt with my shortcomings. Apparently you have not. I’ll walk you to the door."

  "I’ll go. But I’m not leaving L.A. until I get my share."

  Charlene got into a waiting car and was driven away by an unknown companion. Mac paced on the gravel driveway, alone, breathing the cold air deeply in hopes of purging the pain from his gut.

  Soon Dane joined him, hands thrust deep into his pockets. He stared at Mac a long time.

  "I always hated being an only child," he said at last. "When my parents died, I was totally alone."

  "If she really needed it, I’d give her anything. But she’d just piss it away on drugs and booze."

  "She’s a hooker, isn’t she?"

  Mac looked up in surprise.

  "I can see ‘em comin’." Dane chuckled.

  "How did your parents die?"

  "They took a ride on a train. A train to hell." Dane paused with an ironic smile. "You may remember the story. About ten years, now. The engineer was loaded. Tokin’ all the way from New York to Maine."

  Mac frowned. "I do remember. God, that’s awful. I’m sorry, Dane."

  "Not as sorry as you’re going to be in the morning."

  "Why?"

  "‘Cause we’re going out tonight, my friend. We have a new year to bring in, and some serious drinking to do."

  "I don’t know, Dane. I can’t just go--"

  "You sure as shit can and will. Tom’s idea, and he’s the good guy, so you can go. It’s all arranged. The girls will be good and pissed off, and you know what? It’s good for them." Clapping his arm around Mac’s shoulders, they walked back to the house, Dane nodding and Mac shaking his head.

  ~ * ~

  Roxie spent the night with Jessica and the children. Jackie had declined Jessica’s invitation to join them. They did not expect to see the men until morning, and decided to make the best of it.

  Jackie had sounded almost depressed on the phone, and while making popcorn, Jessica’s mind was flooded with memories of the past year; most especially of last New Year’s Eve, and the premiere of Bellerive.

  "God, that was an awful night," she reminisced with Roxie later. "I was so hung up on Dane, and I had asked Mac to take me to the premiere. And Dane was there with Merrily…"

  "And I was there with Zach." Roxie’s eyes looked into the past with her. "You got rather drunk, as I recall. Mac had to hold you up."

  "He took me home. I was such a me
ss! Blubbering all over the place about Dane. And he was so disgusted with me. He put me to bed and slept on my couch."

  "Why do you think Jackie didn’t want to come?" Roxie suddenly changed the subject.

  Jessica shrugged. She had never shared her knowledge of Jackie’s problems with Roxie, feeling it was better left unsaid. She stubbornly hoped that Dane and Jackie would eventually work things out, although like Mac, she knew in her heart that there was nothing special between the two.

  "What do you think about that bruise? Do you really think she did it by accident?" Roxie continued.

  "What are you saying? That Dane hit her?" Jessica was suddenly defensive, but had to admit to herself that she had been thinking the same thing.

  "Not Dane, necessarily…but it does look like somebody punched her. She lives with Dane, right? I don’t get the impression they get along all that well."

  "Well I hope she’s telling the truth. Dane couldn’t possibly…" Jessica’s voice trailed off as she remembered Mac’s recount of his evening at Dane’s party. Dane was really pissed off, he’d said.

  Jessica also remembered the night of her birthday party, when she had introduced Jackie to Dane. Ruefully she recalled warning Jackie that she had done her no favor in making the introduction. How could either of them have known the irony of her words?

  ~ * ~

  This joint’s jumpin’, Mac thought, as he cautiously perused the crowd spilling out on to the sidewalk.

  It was a private club of which Tom was a member, and he led Dane, Mac and two others to a round table in a corner. The five of them together would have been a coup for any paparazzo seeking candid, heart-stopping photos. Even their waiter, a too-handsome young man in his early twenties, seemed overwhelmed at the prospect of serving his famous guests.

  "Man, I’m glad I don’t have a face like yours," Steve Lightner commented to Tom as four girls at a nearby table spotted them and started giggling.

  "Likewise," Tom replied smartly to his producer colleague.

  "What will it be, gentlemen?"

  "Wild Turkey. On the rocks." Dane did not hesitate a moment on his selection.

  "Seven and seven," Tom ordered.

  "How about a Rum and Coke?" Steve put in.

  The waiter paused expectantly, waiting for Mac’s request.

  "Uh…I don’t know." He looked at Dane, then turned back to the waiter. "Glass of milk?"

  There was silence around the table until Dane burst out laughing; the others followed suit, and the waiter looked relieved.

  "Give me a margarita, on the rocks, no salt," Mac ordered.

  "Same." Sal Cicerello echoed.

  "Good to see you again, Sal."

  "You, too, Mac. I’ve been working my ass off with postproduction. They’re talking about a May premiere. Thought about what you want to do next?"

  "Don’t know. I’m being solicited--It’s pretty weird being off the tube. I’m not used to the time."

  "That’s the trick; don’t get used to the time. You should keep working," Steve put in.

  "What’s happening with your project, Dane?" Tom asked.

  Dane unwrapped a stick of gum and slipped it into his mouth. "Besides giving me an ulcer, nothing." He pulled his wallet from his hip pocket. "I’ll get this round." The waiter distributed their drinks, and Dane raised his in a wordless toast.

  "I hear you’re casting Jackie." Mac peered at Dane from across the table, watching his reaction closely.

  Eyes steady, Dane shrugged.

  "Maybe."

  "Who’s Jackie?" Steve wanted to know.

  "She’s nobody. And I’m not sure she has what I’m looking for." Dane threw down the whiskey and signaled the waiter for another. Mac stirred his drink pensively, wondering about the meaning of Dane’s words. But Dane was still talking.

  "No, I think we just might save Jacqueline for something different. I need someone stronger, more dedicated…with a touch of vulnerability."

  "Against your lead?" Steve questioned.

  "No. I’m not in the film."

  "You were two weeks ago," Mac puzzled. "What happened?"

  "Changed my mind." Dane took another draught. "I think you’d make a helluva senator, MacKendall…but you’d have to cut that damned mane of yours."

  Mac’s eyes locked onto Dane’s. "What are you saying?"

  "Just that I’m offering you the role, if you’re interested."

  "Work with you? Are you nuts, Pierce? God, I’d end up with an ulcer, too," Mac responded, laughing and drinking down his margarita. "Cut my hair?" Mac ran his fingers through his shaggy locks comically.

  "You can keep the mustache, if you want."

  "Gee, thanks, pal."

  Dane nodded, lazily reclining in his chair, chewing the gum thoughtfully.

  They were well into their third round when one of the girls at the nearby table moved in on them. Not much over twenty-one, she was rail thin and wearing a black band around her hips that doubled as a skirt; a tiny, tight, off-the-shoulder knit top barely covered her midriff, and she placed her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she leaned down to speak to them.

  "My friends over there sent me to ask if you boys would like some company."

  Her comment sent a mild chuckle around the table. From his laid-back position behind her, Dane grabbed the girl’s wrist and pulled her abruptly into his lap.

  "Seeing’s how all these other guys are married, I guess I’ll have to handle all four of you. But you can be first, how about that?"

  The girl wasted no time in putting her arms around his neck, and Dane flashed a rueful smile at the others. Both Mac and Tom shook their heads in mock disapproval, but Steve rose from his chair.

  "Excuse me, Pierce, but I’ve just paid dearly to become unmarried. Give me a break." Steve sauntered over to the other table and promptly asked one of the remaining girls to dance.

  "You are Dane Pierce! I knew it!" The girl sighed, wiggling on his lap and exposing more thigh than the others thought possible. "You know I’ve seen Lost Season three times," she said, giggling loudly over the music.

  "Only three?" he queried silkily.

  "Maybe you should buy the video," Mac suggested, and Dane nodded agreeably; they both laughed.

  The girl turned to look at Mac, then back to Dane. Taking the drink from his hand, she finished the whiskey herself, then leaned forward conspiratorially.

  "Is that Cory MacKendall?" she whispered into Dane’s ear.

  "Yup. That’s Cory…" He watched as Mac took his turn at paying the waiter.

  "Isn’t he married to--"

  "Come on. Let’s dance." Dane stood suddenly, nearly dumping the girl onto the floor.

  The dance floor was immersed in fog and colored spotlights roved across the dancers crazily. Despite his torn emotions over Dane and Jackie’s doomed relationship, Mac was entertained by Dane’s outrageous flirting with the young girl. Slouching back in his own chair in an imitation of Dane’s usual posture, Mac let the alcohol take over and his thoughts wander. He chuckled to himself.

  "What’s so funny?" Tom wanted to know.

  "Nothing," Mac replied, pushing the hair from his eyes. "He wants me to cut my hair." A bemused smile stayed on his lips.

  "Think we should call the girls?"

  "The girls…yeah. Good idea, Thomas." Mac nodded and the two rose to find the telephone, just as the current song ended.

  ~ * ~

  "What does it feel like?" Roxie wanted to know as Jessica put her son to her breast.

  "Like nothing I have ever felt. It’s very natural, and it’s nice. It’s the strongest feeling of being needed. It’s hard to describe. Someday you’ll know."

  "I don’t know. Tom’s son is eighteen, you know. If we ever did get married, I don’t know that he’d want to start a new family."

  The ringing phone interrupted Roxie’s thought, and Jessica answered the cordless she’d placed next to the couch.

  "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?" Quickly she replaced the rec
eiver. "Must have been a wrong number."

  "Oh…you didn’t mind Tom taking the guys out tonight, did you?"

  "No. Mac needed to get out. He’s grieving, he’s tired, and I think it was the best thing for him. Of course, Dane delights in getting Mac totally blitzed, and Mac will regret it tomorrow, but I think it’s good."

  The phone rang again.

  "Hello?" Jessica’s voice was wary this time, but the sound of Mac’s voice was a welcome relief.

  "Hey, baby."

  "Hey baby." Jessica smiled into the phone. "You havin’ a good time?"

  "I’m having a time, I’m not sure if it’s good or not. I guess it’s fun watching Dane put the moves on someone besides you."

  "What’s that supposed to mean? Is he entertaining a girl?"

  "Oh, is that what you call it? Entertaining? Maybe it’s something he can teach me."

  "On the contrary, darling. There’s much you could teach him. You aren’t getting polluted, are you?"

  "No. I can’t. A mild buzz is all I’m after tonight. Dane, on the other hand, will probably come out of here on a stretcher. I swear I’ve never seen him drink like tonight. Bent on destruction and no good." Mac paused, and Jessie could hear the loud music in the background. "God I miss you. How’s the baby? Did Jackie come?"

  "No, she didn’t. Roxie and I are just talking. Devon’s fading in and out, and Megan’s been asleep for a couple of hours. And," Jessica lowered her voice a little, "I miss you, too."

  "Tom wants to talk to his old lady. You try to get some sleep, okay? Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I promise. We’ll probably screw around ‘til morning, but we’ve got a limo taking us home, so no one has to drive. I love you."

  She handed the phone over to Roxie and moved Devon to her other side.

  Soon, Roxie hung up.

  "Doesn’t it feel weird seeing Mac and Dane hanging out together? I mean, Mac hated him so much."

  "Mac never hated Dane, Roxie. He just couldn’t understand him. They’re so different. You’ve never understood him either, as I recall."

  "You really fell hard for him, as I recall."