Page 22 of Hello, Hollywood!


  “No, not anything along that angle. We were talking about business-related problems. Big stuff.”

  “Losing the business would put a terrible strain on my parents’ marriage,” I said. “Their whole identity is wrapped up in that sandwich shop.”

  “Exactly. And Jack and Angie’s whole identity is wrapped up in Stars Collide, the talent agency they’ve built together. And our whole identity is wrapped up in our work. Our writing. It shouldn’t be that way, but it usually is.”

  “I know.” A sigh threatened to erupt. “I’m working on that.”

  “Being attacked from the outside is awful, but according to your dad, there’s something worse. Finding out that someone you loved and trusted is willing to turn on you.”

  I waited to hear the rest.

  “Athena, I would never turn on you. I want the best for you and for the show. I wouldn’t jeopardize you in any way. And if you think that my being on the team has somehow made people overlook you or think you’re somehow less important than you really are, then I need to step aside. That’s why I went to New York. I thought if things went back to where they were at in the sitcom, you could take the credit for that Golden Globe nomination like you deserve.”

  “No.” I snuggled up against him. “No more of this you business or me business. From now on, it’s we business. Got it?”

  “Got it.” He kissed me on the tip of the nose and then whispered, “We’re going to have an awesome future.” A few quiet seconds ticked by before he came back with, “Want to guess where we are on the plotline now?”

  I started to slug him but decided against it. If we’d just moved forward to Step 12 on his ridiculous plotter, who was I to mess it up again? Nah, I’d just stay right here, head cradled against his shoulder, and enjoy my happily ever after.

  Bob came back to the Stars Collide set just two weeks after Stephen and I kissed and made up. His return, of course, had nothing to do with our unscripted kiss. It was pretty powerful, but not that powerful. No, his return to the fold just happened to follow on its heels. And boy, were we happy to have him.

  Bob brought the perfect balance to our little writing room. Oh sure, his head was still in the clouds after the filming of his movie. And it turned out he’d left his heart behind in the Amish country. I could hardly believe it when he told me he’d fallen head over heels for a woman he’d met in a woodworking shop. Would wonders never cease! Hopefully she wouldn’t convince him to move away and take up whittling.

  Having Bob back at home on the Stars Collide set was the icing on the cake. The four of us—Bob, Paul, Stephen, and I—were pretty invincible. Sometimes we laughed so hard I wondered how we’d get anything done. And as we inched closer to the Golden Globes, I found myself happier than ever with both my job and my personal life.

  Monday, as always, was spent nibbling on leftovers from Super-Gyros and pounding out new ideas for the show. Thank goodness, these days they flowed like water. In fact, we hadn’t experienced this much enthusiasm for our work since the very first season.

  “Ooo! Tell me what you think about this idea.” I paced the office late that morning, tickled pink by a brilliant-beyond-brilliant idea that had just flitted through my mind. I could hardly wait to share it.

  “Oh?” Bob stopped eating a piece of baklava long enough to listen.

  “What’s that?” Stephen looked up from his laptop.

  “What if the older cast members decide to throw a sock hop and invite the children?”

  “What’s the point?” Paul asked.

  “Hmm.” Oh yeah. There had to be some sort of point to it all. “Maybe . . .” I paced some more, then snapped my fingers. “Yes, maybe they’re raising funds for local firefighters. It’s the annual firefighters’ extravaganza, and the Stars Collide team is there to lend a helping hand.”

  “Firefighters?” Bob did not look convinced. “With all of those children and elderly people in the room?”

  “Sure, why not?” Stephen said. “Maybe something can catch on fire in the middle of the episode and the firefighters will save the day.”

  “Perfect.” I clasped my hands together. “A fire is just the ticket. And I think this would be a great episode to use Milo and Melina. They can do a little Greek dance in the middle of the sock hop. Something like that. Anyway, the whole thing could have a Greek flare.”

  “Why Greek?” Paul asked.

  “Why not?” Stephen and I both replied. We looked at each other and smiled.

  “All this talk about Greek food is making me hungry,” Bob said. “The leftovers you brought today were slim pickin’s.”

  “I know. The customers ate us out of house and home on Saturday. Babbas is restocking today.”

  “I’m dying for a Super-Gyro,” Paul said, rubbing his stomach. “And it’s almost lunchtime. Do you think we could . . .” He quirked a brow. “Get out of here?”

  “Oh, go out to lunch, you mean?” I nodded. “Great idea. Aunt Melina will be at the shop, and I’d be willing to bet Milo will be there too. We could talk to them about doing the episode.”

  “Those two have become quite an item, haven’t they?” Stephen chuckled.

  My eyes filled with tears as I thought about it. “Yes, and my aunt . . .” I could barely get the words out. “She’s a changed woman. I haven’t seen her take a drink in weeks. She’s been . . . transformed.”

  “That’s what love will do to you.” All four of us spoke in unison.

  Okay, I knew Stephen and I were in love. And Bob had fallen for his woodworking girl from the Amish country. But Paul? I gave him a curious look and he shrugged.

  “So, maybe my ex and I weren’t exactly over each other.”

  I let out a squeal that could have pierced ears, then rushed his way and threw my arms around him. “You should have told us!”

  “Why? So you could add it to a script? No thank you. I think I’ll keep my personal life personal.”

  “Why?” Bob, Stephen, and I asked.

  “It’s so much more fun to put it out there,” I said. “So we want details.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “No details. Let it go.”

  Bob shook his head. “How you ever got to be a comedy writer is beyond me.”

  We all laughed, but in my gut I knew Paul was right. He needed time to work out his relationship—not just with his ex, but with the Lord. Over the past few weeks I’d watched as Stephen gently nudged him in that direction. The whole thing had been handled with such grace, flowing naturally out of our conversations, that it caused me to marvel. Stephen had a real gift for evangelism, though he probably wouldn’t have called it that. I could definitely tell Paul was on a journey in the right direction. Hopefully the relationship with his ex-wife was part of his life story. And how wonderful to think he’d gotten that silly little dog back.

  Hmm. I wondered where that would place him on the plotline. Step 3? Step 4?

  Stop it, Athena. Toss that plotter out the window and just enjoy life.

  “So, what did you think about that lunch idea?” Paul asked, glancing at his watch. “I think my creative abilities would be greatly enhanced with the right food, and I know just where we can get it.”

  “And we would be researching, after all,” Bob added. “If we’re doing a Greek episode. We could write it off.”

  “Write it off? That’s funny.” I laughed. “Since when have my parents ever charged you for food?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “We can write it off in theory.”

  “Exactly.” I stretched, then reached for my purse. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s shake this place.”

  We tiptoed out of the studio, inching our way past the roundtable reading room, where the cast read through the script we’d pounded out the week before. I could hear Kat’s voice. Scott’s too. What really got me tickled, though, were the voices of the kids. We’d given them plenty of antics for this week’s show. Likely they were all happy campers.

  We stole through the studio,
doing our best not to be noticed by the camera guys. Jason happened to catch my eye as I slipped by and gave me a smile.

  Paul, Bob, Stephen, and I made it outside, where we squinted against the sunlight. Or maybe it was just the glare of the sun shining against Lenora’s pink Cadillac convertible. We all climbed into Stephen’s SUV and made our way to Van Nuys. The drive was spent talking about the upcoming sock hop episode, which we’d now decided should feature songs that firefighters would love. Go figure. We’d keep the fire bit to up the conflict. After all, great stories were built on conflict.

  As always, my heart came alive as we pulled into the Super-Gyros parking lot. This place had captured me on every conceivable level. As I looked up at that sign, the one with the superhero, I was reminded of the day Kat had helped me put together the list of all the things I wanted—needed—in a mate. I’d found them all in Stephen.

  Well, all but one. There was that whole fishing issue. I’d never mentioned it to anyone except Kat and Larisa. And the Lord, of course. But he had remained silent on the issue, so I’d forged ahead with the relationship, pushing the issue to the background.

  Why did I put that on the list? Ludicrous.

  Oh well. Maybe I could just overlook that and assume the Lord had brought Mr. Right into my life, even if he didn’t care about fishing.

  Stephen opened the door of the sandwich shop and gestured for me to walk through. As I did, he leaned over and gave me a kiss.

  “Remember the first time we met in this very spot?” I took hold of his hand.

  “How could I forget? You left a lasting impression . . . on my big toe.”

  “Obviously my plan worked. I caught you, didn’t I?”

  “You did. You trapped me in your snare with that broken-foot tactic.” He reached over and kissed me soundly, causing Bob to groan.

  “You’re holding up the line. I’m hungry.”

  “Sorry.” I giggled and continued into the store, pausing only to drink in the wonderful aroma of meats and spices. Yum!

  Babbas took one look at me and called out, “Athena-bean!”

  I raced his way and gave him a hug. “Hope you’re okay that we stopped by.”

  “Are you kidding? You’ve made my day!”

  “We decided we couldn’t live without some good Greek food. And we’re researching for next week’s episode, so that gave us two good reasons to come.”

  “You’re just in time.” My father’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve come up with a new sandwich for the shop. Adding it to the board now. You’re going to love it.”

  I couldn’t believe it. The menu had stayed the same for years. “What is it?”

  “I named it after Zeus. I’m calling it the Greek Dog. It’s a hot dog made of lamb, with peppers and olives on top.”

  “Perfect. Sounds a lot like the gyro, though. Sure you don’t want to build a different sort of hot dog that’s more traditional?”

  “You mean like a regular hot dog with chili on top?” He shrugged. “I’m naming it after Zeus, you know. He’s Greek. The sandwich is Greek. It’s all Greek!”

  Indeed, everything in my world was truly Greek. I waved at Mama, who worked alone at the counter on the phyllo dough. “Is Aunt Melina here? I need to talk to her about something important.”

  My mother wiped her hands on her apron and took a few steps in my direction. “Yes, she’s in the back room, doing inventory. It’s taking her a long time. Guess she’s got a lot of paperwork or something.”

  “She’s a hard worker.” I walked across the shop and into the back room—the same room where Stephen and I had shared our first heart-to-heart talk. A tiny giggle alerted me to the fact that someone—or a couple of someones—stood behind the boxes at the back of the room.

  Inventory, my eye.

  As I tiptoed by, Melina’s voice rang out. In Greek, of course, but I could make out the words.

  “Ah, Milo. When you kiss me like that, I feel like I’m a young woman again, hiding behind the school building, kissing the boy I love.”

  Okay then.

  I cleared my throat to warn them of my arrival. Melina gasped, and the next thing I knew, several boxes came tumbling my direction. She and Milo ran toward me, grabbing boxes right and left.

  “Oh, Athena.” My aunt’s cheeks flamed red. “We were just . . .”

  I put my hand up. “Never mind. None of my business.” I grinned and gave her a playful wink.

  She hugged me. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

  Milo pulled her close and planted several little kisses in her hairline. “I’m not embarrassed to be caught kissing you.” He looked at Melina, love radiating from his eyes. “I’ve come all the way from Greece to find you.”

  “And here I am,” she whispered, leaning into him.

  He shook his head. “My life has been so full of sadness. But no more.” He paused and whispered, “How can I not believe in God? He led me straight to you.”

  My heart came alive at his words.

  Tears streamed down my aunt’s cheeks, and she muttered something in Greek that I couldn’t quite make out through the emotion in her voice. The next words were a little easier to understand. “I’ve been through so much sadness too. But my mourning is over now.”

  Well, her mourning might be over, but as I watched this scene unfold, I suddenly felt like crying. I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes.

  “I’ve outlived two husbands,” she said. “But I haven’t been living. Not really. I’ve been drowning my pain. Only, it never died. Not till now.” She pressed herself into his arms, tears now flowing. “You’ve brought joy and laughter back into my life, Milo. How can I ever thank you for that?”

  Tears flowed down my cheeks at her impassioned speech.

  Milo responded by kissing her on the cheek. “Your love is all the thanks I will ever need.”

  Okay, so I thought that last line was a little cheesy. Sounded like something I heard on a soap opera once. But Melina seemed to buy it, and that was all that really mattered. They melded into a passionate lip-lock, and I stood by watching, the whole thing now feeling a little awkward. I needed to sneak out of here, but there just didn’t seem to be a good way. Or a good time.

  The kiss continued for some time. I glanced at my watch, wondering if the others were missing me yet.

  When the kiss ended, Melina looked my way. “I’m sorry, Athena. We got carried away.”

  “No, it’s all good.” I smiled. “But I’ve brought the writers from the sitcom with me, and they want to talk to you about something, so if you two are done now . . .”

  Melina reached up to wipe the lipstick prints off Milo’s cheeks and lips. “We’re done now.”

  They tagged along on my heels into the shop, where I found Bob, Paul, and Stephen eating gyros and telling Babbas about the sock hop episode. He chuckled and dove into a story about what life was like as a youngster growing up in the fifties.

  I finally got the train back on track, and we asked Milo and Melina if they would like to be in next week’s episode. I thought my aunt was going to faint. Milo puffed out his chest, said something about how he’d been waiting for this opportunity for years, and then kissed her. Again.

  The room went a little crazy at that point. Everyone began to talk at once. A couple of customers entered the store, took one look at the chaos, and joined right in, adding their stories to ours.

  When the noise in the room finally lowered to a dull roar, Milo gave me a hug. “Sweet girl, you’ve been so kind to this old man.”

  “You’re easy to love, Milo. Truly.”

  “Well, you’ve made my day. And because you have, I think it’s finally time to make yours.”

  “Make my day?” I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

  He clapped his hands to get the attention of everyone in the room. “Pappas family, I have an announcement. Something I’ve been hoping to share for a while. Just wanted to wait till the time was right. I know in my heart this is the day.”
r />   Melina’s eyes sparkled. Had he popped the question? Did he plan to do so now, in front of her whole family? I didn’t have a clue, but he’d hooked me with his line. Maybe Milo had missed his calling as a writer. He certainly had a penchant for grabbing the audience by the throat and holding them captive.

  Shut up, Athena, and just let him make his announcement.

  For once I actually took my own advice. I closed my mouth, leaned against the counter, and waited for Milo to speak his mind.

  Milo paced the room, not saying anything for a moment. Finally he turned to us, a suspicious smile on his face. “Pappas family, there’s something I need to tell you. Or, rather, something I need to give you.” He reached into his coat pocket and came out with a small envelope, which he passed to my mother.

  “Another letter?” she said. It trembled in her hand.

  He nodded. “From your aunt Athena. It was written several days before she passed away. I’ve carried it for months, waiting for the right moment.”

  “You’re just now giving it to me?”

  “Yes. I was given specific instructions about how and when to share it with you. I’m sorry about that, but I had to follow those instructions. You will understand shortly.”

  Wow. Talk about getting my curiosity up. This was better than any suspense novel.

  Mama gently opened the envelope, her hands still shaking. She pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

  “It’s in Greek,” she whispered.

  “Do you want me to translate?” Milo asked. “I’m happy to do it if you like.”

  Mama shook her head. “No. I think I’d better read this one myself. I can do it.”

  I looked on as she scanned the page, trying to guess what it might say. By the time she reached the bottom of the first page, her eyes had filled with tears. And by the time she finished the letter altogether, those tears ran in little rivers down her cheeks.

  “Kyrie eleison,” Mama whispered.

  We all echoed, “Lord, have mercy.”

  What he was having mercy on, I couldn’t be sure. But it must be something big.

  “Mama, what did she say?” I asked at last. “Tell us.”