Stars Collide (9 page)

“Nice to meet you too,” she said. She stood about five three, slightly chubby, with a delicious sparkle in her eyes. Her slacks and blouse were plain but nice. She didn’t seem the type for makeup, though I detected a hint of lipstick and some powder. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, like many women her age.

I could hardly get past the look of shock on her face as she took in my grandmother’s formal attire. Still, she responded with graciousness and greeted us like old friends.

The hostess seated us at a large table, and I found myself between Scott and his mother. Grandma Lenora sat across from us in all her glory. She pulled out her compact and touched up her lipstick. And her blush. And her eyeliner. Lovely. Thankfully she didn’t say anything about our engagement. That would’ve been the icing on the cake. With all of the hoopla with the teen fans, Scott hadn’t had a chance to warn his parents about Grandma’s volatile state of mind. That would likely have to wait till after dinner. In the meantime, I would pray. Hard.

“Where are Bryan and Julia?” Scott asked, looking around. “Running late?”

“They should be here any minute,” his mother said. “They were just getting into the Los Angeles area when they called about half an hour ago. It’s been a long drive from Ensenada.” She turned to me with a smile. “We’ve never had the privilege of meeting Julia in person before, and I’m a little nervous.”

“Why nervous?” Grandma asked, sticking her lipstick back in her little purse.

“I don’t know.” Nancy’s brow wrinkled. “I want to make a good impression, I guess.”

Boy, could I ever relate to that.

Grandma gazed at Nancy and offered her two cents’ worth. “Honey, she will love you just as you are. I’ve lived long enough now to come to the conclusion that if folks don’t love you for you, well, there’s no point in trying to impress them.”

“I . . . I suppose.” Nancy did not look convinced.

“So, are you staying with Scott?” I asked.

Scott’s father looked up from his menu and shook his head. “No. At the Super 8 just a couple of blocks from here.”

“I’m surprised they’re not staying at your place.” I gave Scott a curious look.

“That wouldn’t have worked,” his mother said. “We needed something within walking distance of the convention center.”

“Super 8 suits us just fine,” his father mumbled. “Don’t need any of this Hollywood hype to make an old couple like us happy.”

Well, if that didn’t state it plain and simple, I didn’t know what would.

“Oh, I know a lovely hotel you could have stayed at.” Grandma lit into a story about the Beverly Hills Hotel, honing in, as usual, on how Elizabeth Taylor had honeymooned in the bungalows not once but six times. Nancy didn’t really say anything, but I could read the curiosity—and humor—in her expression.

“We do hope to make it to Beverly Hills while we’re in town,” she said at last. “I’ve been telling Charles that I want to buy one of those maps so we can see where the stars live.”

Talk about a Hollywood moment. Grandma pulled a map out of her purse, lifted it in the air, and gave me a triumphant look. “See, KK! I told you these would come in handy.”

Nancy gave the map a curious look. “Why, thank you. Have you been sightseeing too?”

Grandma nodded. “Every day since 1957. That’s the year my home was built. I was under contract with Paramount back in those days.”

“My grandmother was a film star,” I whispered in Nancy’s ear.

Nancy looked flabbergasted. “Wait . . . Lenora Worth? You’re
the
Lenora Worth? From that wonderful movie
It Had to Be You
?”

“That’s me,” Grandma said, now beaming with delight.

Nancy gasped. “Oh, that’s one of my favorites. I can still remember where I was when I saw it the first time. Alma had a little theater called the Bijou, and movies were twenty-five cents. And for another quarter I could get a soda and popcorn.”

“Boy, has that ever changed.” Scott laughed. “These days you have to mortgage the house to go to the movies.”

“True,” his father said. “That’s why I stay home and watch football on TV. It’s cheaper.”

“You have to pay for cable too, Charles.” Nancy shook her head and laughed. “Men.” She gave my grandmother an admiring look. “I’m sad to say they tore the Bijou down years ago, but I still have such fond memories of my years there as a child. And so many of the ones I loved were yours! Unbelievable. I’m actually sitting at the dinner table with Lenora Worth.
The
Lenora Worth. The ladies at my Bible study are never going to believe this. They’re just not.”

Grandma beamed from ear to ear. “Would you like me to sign something for you, honey?”

“Hmm.” Nancy reached into her purse, coming out with a receipt from Target. “This hardly seems appropriate.”

“What about this?” Grandma reached for an IHOP napkin and scribbled her name across it with a pen that Scott provided.

“Write ‘To Your Biggest Fan,’ ” Nancy said. She turned to me and whispered, “I’m going to frame this when I get back to Alma. My friends will be green with envy.”

All of this, of course, made my grandmother’s day. With added flair, she finished the autograph, then looked up with a grin. “Oh, it feels good to be among lovers of great film again. This really takes me back.”

“Me too.” Nancy clutched the napkin to her chest with a look of sheer bliss on her face. “Are you still filming movies, Lenora?” she asked.

“No. I have made a few guest appearances on television, but that’s about it. I prefer to watch from the background these days.”

“But you enjoy wearing the dresses from the movies?” Nancy gestured to the cream dress Grandma had chosen to wear. “Is that it?”

“Oh yes. They really take me back to the good old days.” She gestured to her gown. “This is a Debbie Reynolds number. She was always one of my favorites.”

“Debbie Reynolds?” Nancy’s face lit up again. “I used to love her when I was younger. Did you ever see the Tammy movies?”

“Did I?” Grandma chuckled. “Why, I was on the set when Debbie filmed the first Tammy movie. I helped her memorize the words to the theme song. We were very close.”

“R-really?” Nancy did not look convinced, so I nodded. Not that I could confirm my grandmother’s story, but it would keep the conversation flowing.

“Wasn’t she fabulous in
Singin’ in the Rain
?” Grandma asked.

When Nancy nodded, the two women lit into a conversation about Gene Kelly, which served as a lovely segue to a chat about the weather. After that, they went back to talking about Hollywood stars once again. Apparently Nancy was a quintessential tourist.

“So you plan to visit Hollywood while you’re here?” Grandma asked, gesturing to the map in Nancy’s hand. “If so, we would love for you to stop by our place in Beverly Hills.”

Nancy suddenly looked very excited. “I told Charles that if we came all the way to Los Angeles, I’d better get to see at least one star. And not the kind in the sky,” she added with a wink.

“Hey, what am I—chopped liver?” Scott asked, crossing his arms.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Scott’s father rolling his eyes. Thankfully he didn’t comment. Still, it was clear he didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading.

Nancy laughed and patted Scott on the arm. “We already know you’re famous, son. And Kat too, of course. We think you’re both brilliant on that show of yours. Don’t we, Charles?”

He grunted something that almost sounded like, “Yeah.”

“I watch it every week and even record it on that . . .” She looked at her husband. “What’s it called again, honey?”

“DVR.”

“Right.” She nodded. “DVR. Don’t know what we ever did without it. You can skip right through the commercials.”

Scott and his father started talking about modern technology, and I found myself stuck in the middle between two completely different conversations. I tried to focus on the women, who spoke my language. For the most part, anyway.

Nancy gestured to me first and then to my grandmother. “Honestly, I can’t wait to tell my friends back in Alma that I had dinner with Lenora Worth. Why, they’ll just flip!” She opened the map, gave it a glance, and looked back up at us, her face lit with joy. “This is all so wonderful, isn’t it? It’s as if God arranged every last detail.”

“He’s in the detail business,” Grandma said, her eyes sparkling. She dove off into a lengthy discussion about life in Hollywood, focusing on some of the people she’d met over the years.

From across the table, Scott’s father shook his head and mumbled, “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

Naturally, Grandma could not resist. She looked at him, serious as you please, and responded, “Judy Garland.
Wizard of Oz.
1939.”

“Yes, that’s right.” He looked her in the eye. “But my point is, things are different here. Very different.”

“Oh yes, gloriously different.” She giggled. “There’s no business like show business, honey! And there’s no place like Hollywood!” Grandma dove into a story about what her life had been like as a farmer’s daughter, and before long she had everyone at the table laughing. God bless her. For all of her eccentricities, she sure knew how to turn things around.

To my great relief, we were soon distracted by Bryan and Julia’s entrance. As Scott’s brother made his way to the table, I couldn’t help but notice the resemblance. Though Bryan was younger, the two could pass for twins. Julia, on the other hand, was petite and olive-skinned, Bryan’s polar opposite. In many ways she reminded me of Tia. A bit younger, though.

Introductions were made as the two joined us. Julia settled into the spot between Grandma and Scott’s mom. This should be interesting. Grandma went off on a tangent about Julia’s beautiful smile and put everyone at ease, even speaking a few words to Julia in fluent Spanish. Yes, Lenora Worth certainly had that way about her.

From there, the conversation turned to the fund-raiser. Scott shared our ideas, which Bryan seemed to love. The more we talked about it, the more I realized this event would be a lot of fun. I turned to Scott, pleased with how things were going. Finally I could rest easy.

Just about the time I’d relaxed, Julia let out a squeal. I stared at her, wondering what had provoked it. She pointed to my left hand—in particular, my left ring finger. I gasped as I realized I’d somehow forgotten to take off the ring Scott had slipped on my finger during our earlier filming. Julia released a string of words in Spanish, none of which I recognized. Still, I got the gist of it. She thought we were engaged.

I quickly shoved my hand behind my back, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

“Son . . . is there something you’d like to tell us?” Nancy asked, her face turning pale.

His father’s fork froze in place just a couple of inches from his mouth as he stared over at the two of us.

Grandma clasped her hands together, a broad smile lighting her face. “Oh, happy day! Isn’t it the best news ever? I can’t believe you didn’t know! Why, I thought everyone knew they were getting married. The angels have been singing songs of praise all day long. Isn’t it divine!”

I slipped off into a catatonic state from which I planned never to return. Scott could handle this one without me. I hoped. He tried to offer a few words of explanation but then looked at my grandmother, who beamed ear to ear. Dead silence followed.

Nancy took over. “I just don’t believe it,” she said, her hands pressed to her heart. “Both of my boys are getting married. I . . . I . . . well, I’m so happy, I could cry.”

And she did.

I would have joined her, but I figured if this dam broke, the river would overrun its banks. My tears would have to wait until I got home and crawled under the covers. Only there could I do them justice.

Scott looked my way, his eyes wide. I shifted my gaze to the table and fidgeted with my napkin. Ah, blissful avoidance!

We somehow made it through the rest of the meal. Thankfully the conversation shifted to more exciting stuff—like Charles’s steak and eggs, which he claimed to be the best he’d ever eaten. Soaked in ketchup like that, they looked pretty gruesome. I did my best to focus on my salad, picking out the tomatoes.

By the time the meal ended, everyone seemed to have forgotten about our big news. Well, most everyone. Nancy occasionally glanced my way, offering a shy smile. Apparently she approved of me as daughter-in-law material. On some level that made me feel better, though I certainly planned to tell her the truth before the night ended. Surely she could see how fragile my grandmother’s state was. She would understand.

When we wrapped up the meal, Scott’s father insisted on paying for the group—made quite a production out of it, in fact. I couldn’t help but think it might have injured his pride if Scott had objected.

As we walked out of IHOP, we were met at the door by a host of paparazzi, their cameras flashing nonstop. I put my hands up to cover my face. Could this night possibly get any more awkward?

Obviously so.

From my right, a reporter hollered, “Hey, Kat . . . is that an
engagement
ring?”

Cameras began snapping madly once again, and I shoved my left hand behind my back and groaned. Whether I’d meant to do it or not, I’d just given these guys the story of a lifetime.

Only one problem—it wasn’t true. But what could I do about that now?

10

Cheers

The night after meeting Scott’s parents, I had the strangest dream. Scott and I were in Ensenada, Mexico, at the orphanage, visiting with the children. For whatever reason, we’d decided to hold the fund-raiser there instead of in L.A.

Nancy was there. So was Charles. Grandma Lenora was up on some sort of makeshift stage, singing a funny song in her off-key voice, and the kids danced around her. Just about the time she reached the height of the song, the paparazzi appeared, cameras in hand. The flash of lights nearly blinded me, and I hollered out, “Leave us alone! Can’t you see we’re trying to do something good here?”

Grandma didn’t mind, of course. She posed and counted to ten, encouraging them to add to the chaos. Off in the distance, Scott did a random tango number, spinning his mother around until she grew dizzy. They danced my way, where he got down on one knee and offered me not a ring but a plateful of steak and eggs covered in ketchup.

The dream morphed, and I saw myself as a little girl sitting in IHOP. My mother sat to my right, and my father, dour faced, sat directly across from her. They didn’t speak. Not a word. I chattered on and on, trying to fill the quiet space, but things only got more awkward as I talked. As the dream twisted and turned, I grew up . . . right there in the chair at IHOP. Only, as I glanced at the chair next to me, I now found it empty. For that matter, so was the one across from it.

The tears flowed in abundance. While I had struggled through their pained silence, even silence was preferable to absence.

I awoke in a puddle, my heart heavy for my mother. And my father. Strange, how a dream could make me want to see a man who had deliberately disappeared out of my life. And stranger still that I’d actually dreamed about the uncomfortable silence between my two parents. The tears continued to flow until I managed to get them under control. My thoughts shifted to prayers, and I gave my hurts—as best I could, anyway—to my real Daddy. Surely he could handle this.

After spending a bit of time composing myself, I rose from the bed feeling queasy. My thoughts gravitated from my parents to the events of last night, particularly the paparazzi incident. How could I ever live this down? Would Scott decide I was more trouble than I was worth? I hadn’t intended to keep the ring on. In fact, I’d completely forgotten about it. Or maybe—if I had to be honest with myself—maybe I’d liked the feel of the ring on my finger so much that I’d kept it on subconsciously.

I glanced at my bedside table, taking in the faux diamond ring with its silver-coated band. The marquis cut was nice. I might’ve preferred a princess cut, though. And this one was a little big for my taste. How brides managed such huge rings remained a mystery. I’d prefer something more practical. Pretty, of course. But practical.

Kat, what is your problem? Are you actually thinking about real engagement rings?

That realization both terrified and intrigued me. Did I really want to wear Scott’s ring, or had I just slipped over the edge, never to return?

I thought about it all day Saturday as Grandma and I talked through her plans to renovate the house. And I pondered it all through the Sunday morning service at church, especially when Pastor Garrett stopped me after the service to congratulate me on my upcoming nuptials. Oy! Now what? I tried to explain what was really going on, but Grandma wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. Why oh why did she have to tell him he would be performing the service?

On Monday morning, I arrived at the studio feeling a little discombobulated. And despite our many back-and-forth phone calls over the weekend, I had to wonder how Scott would act once he saw me—and Grandma—in person.

I didn’t have long to think about it. Several people stopped me as I came in the door, offering random congratulations. Most had stunned looks on their faces, particularly the guys in the crew. I just shook my head and gave out several looks of warning, but no one seemed to catch on. They were too busy listening to Grandma share the details of my upcoming wedding ceremony to notice my rising blood pressure.

After a few minutes, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I headed off to find Athena to pick up my copy of this week’s script. Fear and trembling took hold as I tried to imagine what the writers had come up with this time around. Now that Jack and Angie were engaged, what would happen next?

I reached the writers’ room—a crazy, chaotic-looking place with papers strewn everywhere—and found Athena inside. Alone. Praise the Lord.

“Kat, get in here.” She pulled me through the door. “Is it true?”

I stared at her, shock now oozing out of every pore. “Athena, you of all people should know it’s a misunderstanding.” Over the next couple minutes I offered an explanation of what had happened, right down to the part where I’d accidentally left the ring on.

“Oh.” She frowned. “Okay. I guess I knew that, though it is a little weird that you forgot to take the ring off. But still, a girl can hope. You and Scott are perfect for each other.” She leaned in to whisper, “Did you see that you guys are going to be the lead story on
Entertainment Tonight
?”

I groaned. “No. Tell me it ain’t so.”

“Oh yes. Some guy who runs a map business on Sunset Boulevard says he has some sort of proof that you’re really engaged. They’re going to interview him. I can’t wait to see what he has to say.”

Another groan escaped. Apparently I’d been wrong about Damian. Sounded like he’d ratted us out—the scoundrel. Any control I’d formerly had—or thought I had—over this situation had dribbled through my fingertips.

“What are you going to do?” Athena asked as she gestured for me to sit next to her.

“After I move to the remotest regions of the Amazon, or before?” I asked as I took a seat. “Because I feel pretty sure I won’t have to deal with any of this when I’m living in the rain forest.”

“You’re moving to the jungle?” she asked, her brow now wrinkled in confusion.

I slapped my head. “No, goofy. I already live in the jungle. I’m moving to the Amazon, where the natives are friendly and the only headhunters are the kind that eat you for dinner. I’ll be safe there. Safer than I am here, anyway.”

She chuckled. “Okay, I get it. You’re worked up. I’m not saying I blame you, exactly. I guess this is pretty embarrassing.”

“You can say that again.”

She’d just started to when Scott stuck his head in the door and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I forced a smile, but my heart wasn’t really in it.

“So, I hear we’re a pretty hot topic,” he said, entering the room. “My mother called this morning to say she saw us in the paper and on television. Apparently we made
Good Morning America
and
The View
.”

“Scott, I’m so sorry.” I buried my face in my hands. “How are we going to fix this?”

“Let them talk, Kat. Let them all talk. I still say we just ride the wave. If nothing else, this will be great PR for the show, like Rex said.” He shrugged. “It’s not hurting my reputation any for people to think that a girl like you would even think about marrying a guy like me. It’s pretty flattering, in fact.”

Okay, maybe I could get used to this. My bundled nerves began to loosen as I observed the smile on Scott’s face. How did he do it? Even with the storm waters raging around him, he still managed to be calm, cool, and collected. The guy was a walking advertisement for antiperspirant.

“She’s thinking about moving to Africa,” Athena said, gesturing to me. “You’re not going to let that happen, are you, Scott?”

Before he could answer, I corrected her. “Not Africa, the
Amazon
.” Turning to Scott, I sighed. “Do you ever just wish you could run away?”

“I already did that,” he said. “It’s how I ended up in L.A., remember? Small-town boy leaves small-town life to pursue opportunities in bigger places . . .”

“Touché.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Kat,” he said, his eyes filled with empathy. “I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Athena looked back and forth between us, her eyes narrowing into slits. “I knew you were head over heels for each other! I can’t believe I thought it was just great acting on your part.”

“Hey now,” I said, crossing my arms at my chest. “Are you saying my acting isn’t great?”

“Not as great as this.” She pointed to the two of us. “This is better than any script I could write, Kat. And trust me, God’s lines are far better than mine, so I’m not arguing.”

Scott slipped an arm over my shoulders. “We’ve already told Rex,” he said. “And when the time is right, we’ll let others know too. It’s just been a little tricky.”

“So you didn’t want people to know you were dating, but you’re perfectly okay with letting everyone think you’re engaged?” she asked. “Because half of America has already gotten the memo, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s different.”

“Okay.” After a moment’s pause, she asked, “But are you sure you two aren’t really engaged?”

“We’re not,” I assured her. “If I’m ever engaged, you’ll be one of the first to know. I promise.”

“Okay then.” She offered a satisfied smile.

“Oh, and speaking of people knowing, I called my parents on my way home from our dinner the other night,” Scott said. “I explained everything.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Actually, my mom was really disappointed. She was hoping we were really engaged. My dad seemed a little confused by it all, but then again, everything about life in Hollywood confuses him.”

I heard a commotion out in the hallway, so I stuck my head out of the door to see what I’d missed. Bianca Jacobs, Candy’s mother, stood nose to nose with Tia Morales, letting her have it about something. Picture the mighty Goliath facing down little David. Tia’s petite form seemed dwarfed by this stage mom’s overwhelming presence. Bianca’s voice grew shriller, and she waved her hands in Tia’s face.

“Wow.” I watched in amazement as Bianca continued to rant.

“This is better than the WWE,” Scott whispered. “Who do you think is gonna come out on top?”

“Hmm.” I paused to think about it. “Tia’s got the power, but Bianca’s got the guts. This is going to be a close call.”

“My money’s on Tia,” Athena whispered. “She’s got a lot to prove. Besides, she’s one tough cookie.”

“Maybe not as tough as Bianca, the ultimate stage mother,” I added. I’d never known anyone as aggressive as that woman, except, perhaps, her daughter. Candy regularly pitched fits when things didn’t go her way. Most of us had grown weary of the youngster’s ongoing temper tantrums, but even she looked mild in comparison to mama.

I listened as Bianca ranted, trying to get a feel for what was going on.

“Is it really true that you’ve decided to cut over half of Candy’s song from that last episode?” she asked.

“Well, the scene went a little long, and—” Tia never had a chance to finish because Bianca looked like a teakettle about to blow.

“What?” Bianca glared at her. “Do you know how many gigs we turned down so that we—I mean, she—could play the role of Kimberly? We had a deal. Mark promised to showcase Candy’s talents in this stupid sitcom of his. This is completely ridiculous.”

Ouch.

Silence fell over the cast and crew at this proclamation. Tia took a couple of steps back. For a second there, I thought she might take Bianca down. Instead she drew in a few slow, calculated breaths, then managed what had to be a rehearsed sentence. “There has been a change in plans, Ms. Jacobs. And let me remind you that Mark is no longer here.
I’m
here, and I’ve decided that Candy’s song was too long to include all of it in the scene. We’re trimming back a little, only using half the song. There will be plenty of opportunities to showcase her talent later. Right now, we need to focus on the proposal and the upcoming wedding.”

Lovely.

Bianca opened her mouth but stopped herself from saying more when she realized everyone in the place was now watching her. Oh, if only her daughter could practice the same amount of restraint. I caught a glimpse of the eight-year-old with her perfect curls and frilly dress standing nearby. Nothing could match the child’s beauty on the outside. But, on the inside?

Hmm. Looked like we were about to find out what she was made of.

Everyone watched with calculated breaths as Candy rose and took a few steps in Tia’s direction. She maintained her composure for a moment, but I was pretty sure I saw steam erupt from her ears as the foot-stamping episode began. Then her high-pitched voice rang out.

“Mark
told
me I could sing my song! The whole song, every word! Why are you cutting it?” She had morphed from adorable child star to demon-possessed thriller material. She drew closer to Tia, waving her hands and shouting all sorts of obscenities. Even the prettiest of blonde curls couldn’t mask this sort of ugliness. To her credit, Tia took a giant step backward and refused to join in the chaos.

Then Bianca dove in again, speaking more forcefully to Tia. “We’ve said all we have to say on the matter. And just so you know, Candy and I will be leaving at three fifteen today. Mark already approved it. She has an audition for a movie at four o’clock, and we’re going to be there one way or another.”

“Ms. Jacobs, you know perfectly well that won’t happen,” Tia countered. “We won’t even get to her scene until three thirty at the earliest. You saw today’s production schedule.”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Bianca huffed. “Candy has an audition and she can’t miss it. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“She’s only eight years old and she’s already got a prominent role on one of the top-rated sitcoms in America. I would think that would be opportunity enough.” Tia stared her down. “I won’t be adjusting the schedule.”

The tips of Bianca’s ears turned bright red, and before long her clenched jaw became evident. Goodness. I had a feeling she might blow like a top. Thankfully she turned away from Tia and headed to the side of the room where Candy had settled, a pout on her face. Seconds later, the child’s piercing wail filled the room.

“But I want to audition for the movie! It’s not fair. She’s such a—” A repulsive word escaped the child’s lips, and everyone in the studio turned—in slow motion, no less—to see what might happen next. Candy stamped her foot, not just once, but twice. “I. Am. Going. To. The. Audition.” She marched in Tia’s direction again and began to scream bloody murder.