Stars Collide (10 page)

The rest of the cast members looked on, mortified.

I turned back to Scott but didn’t see him. Ah. He’d already headed in Candy’s direction. Within minutes, he had her calmed down. Amazing, the power he had over even the unruliest of people. If this acting thing didn’t work out for him, maybe he could seek out work as an exorcist.

Rex walked up to Bianca, his voice unusually tremulous. “Ms. Jacobs, I would like a word with you in my office.”

“Whatever you have to say can be said here,” she said.

“Fine. Let it be understood that you will never again speak to Ms. Morales in the way I just witnessed. And if you have a problem with anything related to your daughter’s role in this show, please come to me, not her.”

“Now, why would I come to you?” Bianca looked down her nose at him. “No one even knows why you’re here. Mark told me himself that you should have retired years ago.” She rambled on, but I didn’t hear another word. I was still trying to recover from the shock of what she’d just said. Talk about nervy.

Rex appeared to be handling himself better than I would have. “Ms. Jacobs, I don’t believe my role here at
Stars Collide
is in any way hindered by my age. Most of these folks believe my years in the business lend credibility to my job as producer. Sure, I’m older than most. But you know what? With age comes wisdom. And understanding. And that, frankly, is the only reason I’m able to stand here and accept this sort of irrational attack at all.”

She crossed her arms at her chest. “Well, I never—”

“No, I don’t suppose you ever paused to think about how hurtful your words could be to others,” he said, giving her a stern look. “Your daughter, even. But I can and will tell you that this has to stop. If you can’t get these emotional outbursts under control, you will be in breach of contract.”

“I . . . I beg your pardon?” She gave him an incredulous look. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Actually, it’s not,” he said. “Read your daughter’s contract. You signed it yourself. There’s a morality clause, and it covers not only the child but also the parent. These constant battles you wage are detrimental to the well-being of the other children. And frankly, they’re embarrassing, not just for those of us who produce the show, but for you as well. It’s a shame you don’t see that.”

She grew quiet, but I could see her hands shaking. Why in the world did she have to get so worked up? Didn’t she realize how awkward this was?

Grandma Lenora chose this moment to enter the room, wearing a brilliant purple gown.

Rex took one look at her and let out a whistle. “Hello, gorgeous!” he said, extending his hand.

“Oh, Rex, you got it right!” She batted her eyelashes . . . so hard they almost came loose.

“Barbra Streisand.
Funny Girl
. 1968.” He nodded. “Same year you got your star on the Walk of Fame.”

Grandma’s face turned crimson. “Your memory is incredible.”

“My memories are . . .” He paused, his eyes taking on a faraway look, then ran his hand over his balding scalp. “Anyway, you look lovely.”

Grandma looked around the room, clucking her tongue as she saw Bianca with a feisty expression on her face. “I don’t know what all of the fussing and fighting is about anyway,” she called out. “What’s wrong with you people? This is a joyous day! My beautiful granddaughter is getting married . . . and you are all invited!” She dove into a lengthy description of the reception she planned to host in the gardens of Worth Manor, and before long even Bianca was completely silent.

One of the little boys came up to me and tugged on my sleeve. I looked down.

“Yes, Toby?”

“Kat, you and Mr. Scott are really getting married?”

I groaned. “It’s a long story, honey. Just don’t believe everything you hear, okay?”

“O-okay.” Looking more confused, he sprinted off to join his friends.

I could sense the eyes of everyone on the set on me, so the time felt right to head to my dressing room. Scott caught up with me in the hallway.

“Kat, slow down.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can.”

“Nope. Can’t.”

“Kat, it’s going to be okay.”

I turned to face him, shaking my head. “I don’t see how.” Leaning back against the wall, I closed my eyes, deep in thought. A couple of minutes went by, and I said nothing.

“What are you thinking about?” Scott asked finally.

“How I’m going to decorate my hut.” I opened one eye.

“Your hut?”

Both eyes popped open. “When I get to the Amazon, I’m going to have to figure out how to decorate my hut. I don’t think I can transport my stuff from home. I’ll never get half of it through customs. So I’ll have to start from scratch. Do you think they have a Container Store down there? Maybe an IKEA?”

“Kat, you’re not going anywhere.”

“I have no choice. How can I stay here and face everyone? There’s no way to fix this, Scott, and it’s only going to get worse. Before you know it, Grandma will spend thousands of dollars fixing up the house for the reception. She’ll buy roses for nonexistent flower girls and have invitations printed for a ceremony that’s not real. And there’s not a thing in the world I can do about it.” I paused, my thoughts shifting. “Do you think I can get Wi-Fi in the rain forest?”

“Maybe you’re not the one who needs a vacation,” Scott said. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe your grandmother needs to get away for a while until all of this simmers down. We can send her on a vacation until the scene is filmed. When she comes back, all will be forgotten.”

“That sounds good in theory,” I said. “But she can’t possibly travel alone. No telling where she would end up.”

“True.” He laughed. “Though it would be kind of funny to see her land someplace in the Sahara wearing one of those sparkling dresses. Might give a whole new meaning to the word
mirage
.”

Finally I found something to laugh about.

“It’s going to be okay, Kat,” Scott whispered, leaning so close it sent delightful shivers down my spine. “Athena is right. God is a great scriptwriter, better than any we know. He’s got this one figured out and he knows what’s coming next, even if we don’t.”

I shrugged. “Wish I could see the upcoming scenes. My guess is they’re going to be pretty unbelievable.”

Athena stopped by at just that moment. “Oh, you’re wanting to see the upcoming scenes? No problem. We’re already working on your wedding scene. I know it’s not going to be filmed for a few weeks yet, but Rex wanted us to get a running start on it.”

I realized she’d misunderstood me, but I never got the chance to say so.

“Why are you working on it so soon?” Scott asked.

Athena lowered her voice. “Rex is nervous because there’s talk of another writers’ strike. Didn’t you guys know about that?”

“No way.” I shook my head. “Talk about lousy timing.”

“No kidding. But if the writers go on strike, we’ll have to join them.” She released an exaggerated breath. “I’m not saying I agree with it, Kat. But that’s how the cookie crumbles.”

“Stop. You’re making me hungry.” I reached into my purse and came out with a Snickers bar, which I shoveled down in short order. Athena and Scott both watched me, clearly mesmerized with my speed. Only when I reached for a second did Athena stop me.

“Kat, don’t. You’re not going to fit into your wedding dress.”

I groaned then pressed the still-wrapped candy bar back into my purse. “Who cares? I could gain a hundred pounds and it still wouldn’t change a thing. Jack would just be marrying a chubbier version of Angie.”

“Still. The people in wardrobe would kill you.” Athena chuckled and grabbed my hand. “Want to see what we have so far? I think you’ll be tickled by it.”

“Sure. Why not.” I gave Scott a woeful look as he headed off toward the men’s dressing room, then I followed Athena to her office, where three of the other writers sat congregated in the middle of the room, brainstorming.

“It’s going to be hysterical,” Athena said, pointing to the storyboard. “Angie is going to be coming up the aisle and trip over something on her way to meet Jack.”

“Of course she will.”

“We haven’t decided what she should trip over yet,” she explained. “That’s up for debate.”

“Flower girl basket,” one writer threw in.

“Her veil,” another countered. “It can be one of those really long ones. Maybe it will get tangled in a candelabra or something. Your grandmother’s been helping us come up with some of this stuff, by the way.”

“Of course she has.”
Only, she won’t remember it tomorrow.

Athena shook her head. “Anyway, Jack is going to catch Angie before she hits the floor. It will be so romantic.”

“Of course it will.”

“Great opportunity for a close-up,” a writer named Bob said. “Maybe when the camera pans in close, one of your fake eyelashes could fall off and get stuck on your cheek.”

“Lovely.” I sighed. “Just the way I always dreamed my wedding would be.”

“Oh, and your grandmother came up with a great line for when Jack catches Angie,” one of the other writers threw in. “He’s gonna say, ‘Here’s looking at you, kid.’ ”

“Humphrey Bogart.
Casablanca.
1942.” I paused. “But I suppose that’s somewhat irrelevant at the moment.”

Athena continued on as if she hadn’t heard a word I’d said. “Anyway, Jack catches Angie and the ceremony goes forward and you both live happily ever after. I mean, Jack and Angie will live happily ever after.” She clasped her hands together, as if that solved the whole thing.

“In a hut in the Amazon,” I threw in for good measure. When everyone turned my way, I shrugged. “Now you see why I’m not a writer. That’s the best I can come up with. Angie runs away from the wedding and lives in a makeshift hut in the rain forest. With Wi-Fi.”

“That’s not half bad,” Athena said. “Maybe we can use that in the episode before the wedding. Angie and Jack can have a fight over something trivial. Angie can run away and he comes after her. Maybe we could do a boat scene, where he’s traveling down the Amazon in search of you . . . in his imagination, anyway.” She looked at me with a grin. “I like this rain forest idea, Kat. Let me see what I can do with it. It wouldn’t be a real rain forest, of course. Just something that represents running away from your troubles. How would that be? Might be a nice break from the comedy to have Angie deal with some internal turmoil before the wedding. I’ll run that idea by Rex, anyway.”

I groaned, my brain now in a fog. Dealing with inner turmoil was exactly what I’d be doing. “Great,” I said, turning toward the door. “Just leave me to wallow in the swamp till then.”

They all had a good laugh at that one.

“Great line. Angie can say that as she’s leaving the room,” Athena added. “You know what I always say—everything’s funnier on the out.”

“Huh?” I gave her a curious look.

“You know, Kat. Everything is funnier as the character is leaving the room . . . or leaving the scene. That’s standard in comedy writing. It’s a great technique to leave ’em laughing.”

I decided to test that theory. After taking a few final steps toward the door, I turned back and delivered my closing line: “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my hammock, swatting mosquitoes.”

“Good try, Kat,” Athena called out. “But to be honest, that wasn’t really very funny.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Paul, one of the other writers. “We might be able to use it.” He dove into a detailed explanation of the scene they now planned to write about my visit to the Amazon, but I didn’t really hear all of it. No, my mind was coiled around the obvious dilemma I now faced. Angie and Jack would live happily ever after, sure, but what about Kat and Scott? Would we survive this maddening turn of events, or would the paparazzi ruin any chance we had for a true romance?

Only one way to know for sure. I’d have to walk this road one day at a time. One prayer at a time. And I’d start . . . right now.

11

Dancing with the Stars

Later that evening, about an hour after Grandma and I arrived home from the studio, Rex called to say he was stopping by the house with an updated copy of this week’s script, one that included an inserted scene—a tiff between Jack and Angie. His willingness to bring it by the house felt a little suspicious to me. For one thing, Athena could have emailed it. For another, Rex had been acting more than a little odd lately.

From the minute Grandma Lenora found out Rex was on his way, she went into frantic mode. I’d never seen this side of her before, and it threw me. She went up to her room not just once but three times to change dresses, finally settling on a soft pink calf-length number I’d never seen before. Unlike most of her other ensembles, this one didn’t have a lot of glitz or glam to it. In fact, its simplicity startled me. Man. Was the plot ever thickening, or what?

Scott called a short time before Rex’s expected arrival and I filled him in on the latest.

“I think I’ve got this figured out,” he said after hearing the details. “They didn’t just know each other back then. They didn’t just have a little fling either. They were an item. And my gut tells me they still have strong feelings for each other. I see it all over Rex’s face when he looks at her.”

“I think you’re right. Might do a little snooping tonight on the internet to see if I can locate some clues. Maybe an old newspaper article about the two of them . . . or something. Want to help me?”

“Sure.” He laughed. “Don’t you find this funny, Kat? Here we are, hoping we’ll find some newsworthy gossip about your grandmother and Rex at the very same time we’re trying to avoid the paparazzi. Sort of ironic. We’re leaning on the very media we’re trying to avoid. I guess that would make us hypocrites.”

“Wow. Never really thought about that.”

“Maybe someday someone will be looking on the internet—or whatever form of communication they have in the future—for clues about us.”

“What would they discover?” I asked.

“Hmm.” His pause was followed by a laugh. “They would assume we liked to eat at IHOP and that I was too cheap to buy you a real ring.”

The laughter that followed felt really good. We ended the call on a high note and then I flew into gear, ready to do a little sleuthing. After all, Rex would arrive shortly.

Five minutes later, I pushed the button to let him in the gate. Grandma entered the great room looking pale and a little shaky as she heard the buzzer. “Is that . . . is that him?”

“Yes.” I paused to take in her expression. “Gran, are you ill?”

“Hmm? Oh, well, no.” She shook her head. “Maybe a bit headachy. I’ll go lie down. Please give Rex my apologies. I’ll see him tomorrow at the studio.” She turned to head toward the hallway, but I caught her by the arm and gently led her back to the front door.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re coming with me. No running.”

The mist of tears that covered her lashes caught me off guard. Yes, I was truly seeing a completely different side of my grandmother today.
Pull out the magnifying glass, Sherlock. There are clues all over the manor.

When the bell rang, Grandma gave herself another quick glance in the hallway mirror, mumbling something about how that was the best she could do under the circumstances. I encouraged her to be the one to open the door, which she did, albeit hesitantly. Standing back in the shadows, I prepared myself to watch the scene progress, wondering just how the Lord would write it.

Rex entered with something behind his back. As he pulled out a bouquet of tiny pink sweetheart roses, my breath caught in my throat. For a moment no one said a word. I looked back and forth between the man with the bouquet and the woman whose trembling hands he eventually placed it into.

“A rose for a rose,” he whispered.

Okay, so the line was a little hokey. And positively outdated. But I still found it incredibly sweet. And who knew Rex could be such a charmer?

Grandma clutched the bundle of pink roses to her chest, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh.” She glanced his way, then back down at the flowers. “Oh my.” She took them and disappeared into another room, saying they needed to go in water right away. For whatever reason, she never reappeared. I offered Rex a spot on the sofa, wondering if she’d ditched us for good.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I’m not sure what to say in her defense.”

“You don’t need to say anything, Kat.” A wistful look came over him. It pricked my heart and raised a multitude of questions.

“Rex, can I talk to you about . . . well, about something of a personal nature?”

“Sure.” He looked toward the door where Grandma had disappeared, and I realized he probably wouldn’t hear a word I said. No, his thoughts were elsewhere, from the look of things.

I fumbled around for a few seconds, trying to figure out the best way to begin. Just diving in seemed the best option. “I know you said you knew my grandmother when you were young, and that you worked together.”

“Yes.” He shifted positions a bit and looked my way.

“It’s obvious you care about her, either as a friend or . . .” I let my words hang in the air. As Rex’s gaze shifted to the sofa, I knew I had him. If the moisture in his eyes didn’t convince me, nothing would. “Anyway, something else is going on here, and I have a feeling it’s relevant to her current situation. Can you help me sort this out?”

He gave me a pensive look. “Kat, why are you asking me all of these questions? Has Lenora said something to you?”

“No.” But my antennae went straight up in the air at his question. “I’m just running with a hunch here, Rex. Lately she seems to be stuck in the past, and I don’t just mean the evening gowns and the cars. I’m concerned. There’s got to be some reason she’s so fixated on her life as a young star.”

He reached for a hankie and began to dab at the back of his neck. “Is it warm in here?”

“Not at all.” But it
had
warmed up in here, hadn’t it? Yes, from the look on the man’s face, he was now sitting directly in the hot seat. Only, he wasn’t sitting for long. Rex rose and began to pace the room, pausing to look at one of the photos on the wall. Ironically, it happened to be a photo of Grandma as a young woman, posing in front of her car. Wearing . . . Hmm. I’d never noticed it before, but she was wearing a soft pink dress. And holding a bouquet of sweetheart roses.

“She still drives that ’57 Cadillac.” I spoke over the catch in my throat. “And her favorite song is ‘Secret Love’ by Doris Day.”

His gaze remained fixed on the wall. “Right.”

I rose and joined him. Looking toward the door, I made sure Grandma hadn’t returned before voicing my thoughts. “Rex, this is more than just me trying to figure out if my grandmother has a crush on you. Or vice versa. Whatever happened—or didn’t happen—between the two of you back then isn’t really what I’m trying to get at.”

His quirked brow clued me in to the fact that he didn’t quite believe me.

“Well, maybe I am, but there’s more too. I’m genuinely worried about her mental stability. She’s not herself lately. Her memory isn’t what it used to be. Sometimes she’s Grandma Lenora, and other times . . .” A lump rose in my throat, making it impossible to continue.

“I know.” Rex faced me and, for the first time, looked me directly in the eye. “I’ve been watching. And I’ve been worried too.”

I lowered my voice. “Can you answer the question about why she seems so stuck in the past?”

His eyes filled with tears. “A lot of people with impaired memory issues gravitate back to the past. I’ve seen it many times. They can’t remember what they had for lunch, but every vivid detail from an event fifty years prior is right there within their grasp.”

“Yes, but there’s more to it. I can sense it. Here.” I pointed to my heart.

Rex flinched and his jaw grew tight. When he did speak, his words were strained. “Kat, it really might be better if you talked to Lenora about this yourself. I don’t want to say too much. It’s not my place.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “But I’ve got to believe there are some clues from her past to help me figure out her present. And her future.”

“We were friends.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “Not that her agent wanted me hanging around. I was just a kid with aspirations of making it big in the movies. She was already a star. We worked together on a couple of shows. I worked as a key grip mostly, or played bit parts when they needed someone to fill in. Lenora was . . .” His face took on a wistful look. “Well, she was a true star in every sense of the word. Some of those dresses she wears were the same ones she wore back then. Only, back then all of the women dressed like that.”

“Did you have a crush on her, Rex?” I hoped to tease the information out of him with my question, but he didn’t want to play along.

He looked at the door. “I appreciate your concern for your grandmother, Kat, but I really think you need to talk to her. If there’s anything to be told, she needs to be the one to tell it, not me. Okay?”

“O-okay.” Confusion overwhelmed me, but I did my best to stay calm. “But promise me this, Rex. If she ever needs you, you’ll be there for her?”

He paused before whispering, “I always have been. Whether she wanted me there or not.” He headed to the sofa, where he sat with a dazed expression.

Well, if those words didn’t convince me we had a real-life drama unraveling before my very eyes, nothing would.

At that moment the grandfather clock in the front hallway let out several loud gongs. Grandma made her entrance on the seventh and final gong, holding a tray of sandwiches and tea. She looked at Rex with a winsome smile, suddenly her old self again. “Only seven gongs! At least I’m not going to turn into a pumpkin. No point in leaving the ball early!”

Maybe not. But I had a feeling Lenora Worth had slipped away from him once before at the midnight hour. In the ’50s, perhaps? And whether either of them realized it, Rex Henderson still held her glass slipper firmly in his grasp.

Grandma put the tray of sandwiches down and settled onto the sofa beside Rex, as calm as a kitten. Even a little flirtatious. He seemed to spring to life too as she jabbered on and on about a movie she’d filmed years ago. The two of them dove into an easy conversation, and before long my questions about Grandma’s past were, well, a thing of the past.

Before long, Grandma was telling Rex about the upcoming fund-raiser. “I just love events like the one the kids are planning,” she said. “They remind me of the variety shows from days gone by.”

“Like
The Carol Burnett Show
?” Rex quipped. “Or Flip Wilson?”

“Oh, and
The Dean Martin Variety Show
.” She grinned. “I was a guest in the early ’70s.”

“You were?” I looked at her, more than a little surprised. “How did I not know that?”

“It’s true,” Rex said. “I remember watching it. You did a great dance number with him, Lenora.”

“It started out as a funny little comedy routine. He pretended to be in love with me.” Her face lit up. “Hey, maybe I could revive that bit for the fund-raiser. But I’d need someone to play Dino’s part.”

“I might know someone who would be willing to do that.” Rex smiled. “If you would allow me the privilege.”

“Oh my.” Grandma’s face flushed. “Would you really?”

“I would be honored.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “For you, I would even shuffle off to Buffalo.”

“Ruby Keeler shuffled off to Buffalo in
42nd Street
.” Grandma grinned. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to dance, Rex. That would mean I’d have to do the same, and my dancing days are behind me.”

“Oh no they’re not.” He sprang to his feet and swept her into his arms, and the two began to trip the light fantastic . . . all the way across the great room and out into the foyer, where I heard my grandmother’s giggles.

Heavens. Could things get any more bizarre?

Rex stayed longer than I’d anticipated. When he finally left at ten thirty, I’d already excused myself to my room. Giving them some privacy felt right. I did peek out of the window as his BMW pulled out of the driveway, and I listened for Grandma to come up the stairs. She passed by my room, pausing in the door with a girlish grin on her face.

“He’s a handsome boy, isn’t he, KK?”

I couldn’t think of a proper response, so I just nodded.

“And talk about talented,” she added with a doe-eyed look. “That Rex is really going places.” Creases now formed between her brows, and she crossed her arms at her chest. “They’ll see. One day. They’ll all see.” A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she whispered the words, “A heart can be broken, but it will keep beating just the same.”

I knew the source, for sure. Jessica Tandy had spoken that line in
Fried Green Tomatoes
. But I wouldn’t dare mention it now. No, my grandmother meant those words with every fiber of her being. Her heart had been broken, and yet she’d somehow kept going. Life had moved forward in spite of her pain. If only I could figure out what had happened. Then this would all make sense.

Her mood shifted abruptly. With a broad smile, she said, “You know, sweet girl, our conversation about working with Dean Martin reminded me just how much I miss him.”

I managed one word. “Aw.”

“Let’s invite Dino for dinner one night soon, KK.” She chuckled. “That sounds funny. Dino for dinner. Sounds like he’s on the menu.”

Finally. Something I could laugh at to release this tension.

“Do you think he’s free?” she asked. “I know he’s got such a busy schedule, recording and all. And you know, he’s doing movies now too. I heard he’s got a great one coming out with Jerry Lewis.”

I paused, unsure of how to respond. Dino was, after all, currently crooning “That’s Amore” from a distant star. Finally an idea occurred to me. “Tell you what. I’ll call Scott and see if his parents can come too. How would that be?”

“Scott? Who’s Scott?”

I swallowed hard and tried to think of the best response to avoid further confusion. Thankfully I didn’t have to. Grandma blew me a kiss and headed off to her bedroom.

I reached for my laptop, determined to get to the bottom of this. Typing in her name alongside Rex’s, I came up with three or four sites. Unfortunately, they were just movie credits from a film they’d worked on together. In 1957.