No Greater Love

by Susan Rodgers

  Ready for a catfight after the night – hell, the life – she’d lived through, Jessie drew her shoulders back and scowled at her. “Nobody is off the radar, Michelle. Especially not Josh.” She glanced at him again, her ice blue eyes morphing now into angry slits. “I mean it, Sawyer. Watch your fecking back.”

  Jacob smirked at the reference to Scotland. He grabbed and squeezed her hand, making a mental note to tease her when things eased up.

  After Jessie stormed off to the ladies’ room with Sophie, Jacob ducked into the men’s, and then Michelle stomped off to let off steam. Stephen and Josh were left to face the awful truths alone.

  Josh asked the inevitable, his dark sorrowful eyes downcast, the tremor in his voice giving away his anger. “How bad was it?”

  “Let me put it this way.” Steve pushed up his sleeve to reveal the bruises Matt left on his arm. They were glaring, angry, new – concrete examples of the outrage and futility spewing over from the night before. “Matt wouldn’t let me go to her. He and Jess had some kind of stupid agreement. Fuck her and her constant sacrifices,” he finally released, and leaned on the table, both arms bearing his burden. He explained to Josh that he had not been in on the call either, but instead just happened along at the time she was leaving to meet McCall.

  “You know what really sucked? Apart from everything, I mean,” he added sarcastically. “Watching Matt cry. That sucked.” He spoke quietly as he stood tall again. He struggled to find the next words, there in the midst of the restaurant. Somehow the boys seemed to have forgotten where they were, so immediate and great was the need to share this shock now while they could, just the two of them, alone.

  “McCall had her up against the window, silhouetted, as if he fucking knew we were there keeping a useless eye on her. He even had this little light on behind them, so that – so that they were backlit – haloed, almost.” His face hardened but he didn’t take his eyes off Josh. He knew exactly how things were between Michelle and Josh, and that Jessie was bearing the brunt of that burden too, on top of this renewed agony. Steve was pissed at Josh, and his antagonism towards his friend was continuing to build.

  “I could see her crying, too, Josh. Probably wondering what the fuck this is all for, if you ask me.”

  He turned to go as Josh absorbed the horror. But then Steve decided to add one last thought as he saw Jacob and then Sophie leave the restrooms and gather by the cash register. Michelle was outside yammering away with Charlie, who was apparently still quite incensed, and reasonably so.

  “You know, you’ve been an ass, Sawyer. It damn near killed her that you didn’t come to the concert. And today you treated her like shit. You ignored her in favor of Michelle. I like Michelle and I know living in Jessie’s shadow has got to suck, but she needs to get past herself and recognize what Jessie has done for you. In fact,” Steve pointed a finger in Josh’s face, “you need to stop and consider what she’s done for you, what Jessie continues to do for you. She gave up everything, Josh – career, happiness, love, safety – she gave up everything for you. To keep you safe, supposedly. Because she loved you – and she continues to love you, although for the life of me I can’t imagine why.”

  Steve grabbed his napkin and wiped it across his mouth, a nervous reaction more than anything else. Then he continued to fire at Josh, the white linen a call for a hopeless bitter truce as it wagged in Josh’s face.

  “And what do you do? While she is trying to help nail this asshole who has hurt her in unimaginable ways, you treat her like some kind of plague because you seem to think that by ignoring her she’ll go away and you can get on with your normal little life. And that leaves me wondering what Jessie figures she has left here – yeah, she cares about the rest of us, but Jacob is too focused on his music now to really be any support to her; in fact while he was out partying last night I held her in my arms while she cried herself to sleep. So get your shit together, Sawyer, and at least acknowledge what she’s done for you instead of expending useless energy on a woman who will never understand you the way Jessie does. Who will never believe in you the way Jessie did when she first met you. Like she still does.”

  And then Stephen, afraid of breaking down, backed up and swung on his heel away from Josh, whom he left standing in the middle of the restaurant in shock and disbelief. Yet – Josh knew that Steve was right, about everything. Josh was hiding behind Michelle, and he knew it.

  He needed a minute to compose himself. Trembling from the impact of Steve’s words and from what he now knew for certain Jessie had endured for the sake of gaining the upper hand on McCall, he stumbled across the restaurant towards the restrooms. As luck would have it, Jessie finally pulled herself together and was just exiting the ladies’ room. It was unavoidable. All of a sudden they were facing each other, two feet apart, in a dimly lit hallway. At least it was now mid-afternoon – the restaurant was already mostly cleared out, thankfully.

  Josh leaned sideways against tacky purple and pink floral wallpaper. His head drooped as he studied Jessie’s tense, disheartened face. He could tell she wanted to run but couldn’t bring herself to go. After a moment she, too, leaned a tired shoulder against the wallpaper. Hesitantly, Josh took her fingers in his left hand and ran an anxious thumb up and down hers.

  “Jessie,” he started, trying for her sake to control the angry frustrated tremor in his voice. “No more. No more seeing this maniac. Get the hell out and let Matt nail his balls.”

  “Yeah,” she said nervously, swallowing past the wad of cotton in her throat, “that’s the plan now. I just have to wait for – well, I don’t know if you heard but Interpol’s involved and the authorities in Charleston are tearing apart that – well, that room in the house on Tradd Street. Where Sandy was killed. They just need to link the blood from that room, um, Sandy’s, with the blood on the knife Deuce used to slit your tires. Also I guess they’ll find Deuce’s DNA there, they can match it with a hair or something from the Renegade. Once they get matches everywhere they can go in and arrest him next time he calls me.”

  She was rambling, and somewhat disconcerted by the touch of his fingers on hers. “I just…we… need a little more time. I have to stall him. Plus,” she said, looking away. “I asked him to give me a map, of where Sandy is buried. I need to end all this,” she finished strongly, determined.

  He searched her face, observing, with genuine remorse for his part in her troubles, that the proud eyes were afloat.

  “Then end it,” he demanded, reaching out with his other hand and placing it on the side of her face, over her cheek, noticing with sadness that she leaned into him and hooked her fingers intimately over his belt buckle. “Don’t see him alone again. Promise me.”

  Laughing slightly, sardonically, she interjected. “All of a sudden you care. What changed, Josh? Don’t you want me to fuck off anymore?” She forced her limpid eyes to meet his timorous gaze.

  Miserably he replied, “You caught me at the pool right after Michelle and I had a huge fight. I didn’t know which way was up.”

  Oh, she thought, they fight. Ha!

  He continued. “I don’t know where you fit anymore, Jessie. All I know is Michelle is connected to the entertainment biz, which works for me, but with you – it’s more than that – your link to this business is a damned circus. I’m not sure if I can handle that anymore.”

  Her heart quickened. She cocked her head, trying to get inside his as her eyes widened. Softly she said as she pointed a finger, afraid to breathe, “You’re thinking about it. You’re thinking about it, Josh.”

  It was the first time he admitted it out loud, even though it was Jessie who said it. His smile was careful, balanced. “I don’t know yet. Maybe. Maybe I am. But…you have Jacob, and I have Michelle, and…I mean it, Jess, I don’t know if I can handle that circus with you.”

  She was lost on maybe I am. All of a sudden last night meant something. Suddenly it mattered, eradicating Deuce McCall from her life. All of a sudden Jessie had something to cling to, t
o hang on to. She blushed shyly as hope filled her heart.

  “But you’re thinking about it.” It was a murmur, so softly spoken he barely heard her.

  Josh’s smile widened just the tiniest bit further and then he leaned forward and kissed his old girl on the forehead, letting his lips linger there. They stood there for a moment, together, lost and yet hopeful, their energies melding and giving them strength for the days to come.

  “I saw the show,” he bent and whispered in her ear, his lips tickling her. “Online, but I saw it.”

  “Oh,” she murmured back. “So glad, Josh.” And she was. It was a relief to hear. He still cared.

  “I’ll see you,” he said, and then after another sweet lingering moment he forced himself to let go, to swing around and walk away.

  Jessie jumped when she spied Michelle waiting ten feet behind him, her eyes blazing fire. The dimpled publicist was standing with both arms crossed, her weight on one foot and the other knee bent, witness to her man’s continued deep affection for another woman, for a troubled singer and actor whose crazy journey down the rabbit hole threatened everyone around her.

  “Bye,” Jessie whispered to the back of the man she loved as Josh faced the fire in Michelle’s eyes, his shoulders sinking.

  Absently Jessie noted he hadn’t gone into the men’s room. Then Jessie caught herself grinning widely as she disappeared back into the ladies’ for a moment.

  She had to wipe leaky mascara out from underneath her buoyant blue eyes.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty

  Michelle cornered Sophie later that day at Josh’s place while the gals were whipping up a big plate of nachos for their men, who were trying to settle into the NHL finals.

  The Vancouver Canucks had advanced to an early round of the playoffs and were - three games in - holding their own. If nothing else, the game was at least a distraction from worrying about the next rung on Jessie’s ladder. Still, neither Josh nor Stephen could relax. Their minds constantly drifted back to Jessie. Despite her rocky history with Josh, she was once their co-star. There was no doubt about the level of care and concern for her now that Deuce McCall was back, playing his own insidious game.

  Worse, the boys could not talk about what happened the night before, nor could they strategize for what might come. For one, Michelle wouldn’t allow it in her home, as she called Josh’s place. For two, Matt warned them not to – the place might still be bugged. The silence was deafening, although Steve and Josh communicated heatedly through frequent charged glances at one another. Steve stayed in constant touch with Jessie via texting. He couldn’t say anything concrete regarding the evolving drama, but by assessing what she was doing at every moment, at least he would know she was okay.

  In the kitchen, Michelle, still incensed from the intimacy she’d witnessed at brunch, asked Sophie outright how she managed to take Stephen back after his fling with Jessie.

  Licking salsa off her dainty fingertips after she dumped it into a bowl, the diminutive Sophie shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t have much choice, Michelle. I love the guy. I was angry at first – hurt, of course. But I later realized that at the time Jessie needed Steve desperately, more than I did. She needed someone to hold onto. And he’s a good man. A good friend.”

  “News flash, Sophie. He cheated on you with her. Didn’t he?”

  Sophie could feel her cheeks flame, but she stilled her resolve. Michelle could be a bit harsh at times. Blunt. But Josh’s girlfriend had her own reason for concern.

  Sophie spoke carefully. “He loves her in his own way, Michelle. And yes, if Josh hadn’t come along when they all first met I think maybe Jessie and Stephen would have hooked up. But my understanding of that crazy time before she disappeared was less about sex and more about needing something concrete to hold onto. Someone who was close to Josh.”

  She looked up and eyed Michelle directly. “I think it’s still about that. Not that she doesn’t care about Steve, she does, of course. But I think she still feels a connection to Josh through him. An energy, maybe.” She shook her head and went back to the salsa, scraping out the interior of the jar with a silicone spatula. “I don’t know. It’s weird. They’re all so close, it’s like they are their own little gang or something. You’d think they’d be tired of each other after working so closely together.”

  Michelle skipped over that point entirely. “So, what, she and Steve didn’t have sex? Or do you think he told you the truth?”

  Frustrated with Michelle’s intrusive questions but too kind to tell her to f-off, Sophie responded honestly, with just a touch of annoyance tinting her melodic voice. “He told me they didn’t have intercourse. We left it at that.”

  Placing a hand on her hip and staring at the wee blonde across the kitchen island from her, Michelle was clearly aghast. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Setting down the spatula, Sophie looked up at the woman who was so unlike Jessie it was hard to believe she was here, calling this place her home.

  “Michelle,” Sophie started, “I am guessing it means on some level Jessie and Steve love each other, but they had enough respect for Josh and me that they managed not to have actual intercourse. Period.”

  “Why the hell not? Sounds to me like she’s fucked everyone else. Like it’s not that big a deal to her. What, Steve wasn’t good enough for her?”

  I am not having this conversation, Sophie thought, bristling, as she picked up the salsa and sour cream bowls and placed them on a round wooden tray. Geez, Michelle was making it sound like Jessie chose to have sex with McCall.

  Michelle continued. “Sophie, take your blinders off. Steve was with Jessie last night. All night. Today I see her with her fingers wrapped around Josh’s. She’s fucked up, I give her that, but on some level she’s also a slut. Someone should probably tell Jacob. Personally, I don’t really care to be around her anymore. At brunch, or anywhere else. I don’t trust her.”

  Sophie gripped the tray and slowly lifted it as she pondered the best response. She understood how hurt Michelle was over Josh’s connection with Jessie, but still…she looked Michelle squarely in the eye, her voice low but firm and confident as she said what she felt Michelle needed to hear.

  “Then perhaps you should think about whether you belong in this circle of friends, Michelle. Because the thing is, there’s a kind of code, I’ve discovered, when it comes to Jessie Wheeler. And unless you subscribe to that code, being part of this group is not going to work for you.”

  “Oh?” Michelle replied haughtily, cheeks flaring. “And what might that code be? I can’t wait to hear this. The fucking princess.” She flapped an oven mitt unceremoniously against one thigh, waiting.

  “Love,” Sophie said simply. “Unconditionally. And not just for her, actually. It just happens that right now she is the one who needs it the most. Before you came along, the same code applied to Josh, someone who was in desperate need of acceptance without judgment. Josh, the man you are supposed to love enough to trust. Would you have accepted him then, Michelle? I doubt it. I’m not sure if any of us would have without Jessie’s unfailing belief in him. And then Stephen’s and Maggie’s and Sue-Lyn’s and Carter’s. And Jonathon’s, of course. And then later, when things got really bad and everyone thought Josh hurt Jessie, that love was sorely tested. For all of them. And as a result it’s even stronger.”

  Sophie turned more fully back towards Michelle and set the tray back down as she continued. “This is a tight group, these Drifters folks. And I believe it’s only going to grow from here. I’m grateful to be a part of it, and I for one - despite the jealousy that, by the way, yes I do feel over the closeness between my man and Jessie - believe that not many people on this earth ever experience such a blessing of friendship and love. So I’m sticking around.”

  As she started walking towards the stairs to the media room, Sophie could feel a heated anger following her. She threw her head back at the stunned Michelle. “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. Eithe
r throw yourself behind Josh and support him the way he needs to be supported right now, or let him go, Michelle. Because Josh is suffering as much as Jessie these days. As much as Steve and the others are, too, and even Charlie, who by default has been adopted into the group. Because what I have learned about these friends is that when one of them hurts, they all do. Desperately.”

  She left a wall of silence behind her. When Sophie settled into the couch beside the man she felt blessed to call her own, whose bed she got to share at night - despite the need to allow him the freedom to care about the people in his life as deeply as he did - she realized, not for the first time, that was why she loved him. Because he did care, often more for others than for himself. Steve smiled down at her and raised his arm so she could wriggle underneath. She ached for the pain she knew he carried with him this day, and so she did what she could to alleviate it. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a little kiss, and by his sigh she knew although his mind was elsewhere, she was doing what she was meant to do. Sophie was supporting her man by setting aside her own jealousies and worries, and just by simply loving him.

  It was a while before Michelle joined them with the nachos in hand, and when she did she was silent, brooding. She did not wriggle underneath Josh’s arm, partially because he did not raise one for her to wriggle underneath. Instead they sat polarized on opposite ends of their couch, leaving most of the nachos to Steve and Sophie.

  The next day Michelle packed her bags and took a flight to L.A. A moving company followed her within a week.

  All of a sudden, Michelle understood that it wasn’t just Jessie Wheeler to whom she was coming second. It was all of them, the Drifters friends. And since she was not content to be constantly in second place with that imposing a foe, but instead needed to be first, a position she coveted but would never gain amongst this group, she tossed in her ball and ended the game.