Stars Collide

  “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 h
ad 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.”