Born Under a Lucky Moon (30 page)

“Yes.”

Ten years later, after the divorce, I explained to Mom why I had said yes in the first place. I told her about my initial misgivings in the river but then I had seen it, The Sign From Above, the bridge with her family name on it. Mom ducked her head and her shoulders started heaving. I thought she was crying, until she lifted her head. Her eyes were brimming with tears but it was because she was laughing so hard. I didn't see what was so funny.

“Oh, my little sunshine,” she gasped and patted my knee. “Didn't you know that my mother was the most divorced woman in Jones County, Texas? It was a sign, all right—a sign to run the other way!”

After a beat, I started laughing, too. We howled until we cried right there on the glider, to the point where every neighbor probably wondered what was so damn humorous.

The evening after Walker and I got engaged, Elizabeth, Lucy, and I headed for the airport. I hadn't told anyone about the engagement yet. I was still getting used to the idea. Instead we talked about the situation with Anna.

Elizabeth said, “We've never done anything bad to her.”

“We've never done anything nice either,” Lucy said.

Sammie's plane arrived and she climbed in the car after throwing her suitcase in the trunk. At our expectant faces she simply said, “Meijer's. We need supplies.” She filled us in on her plan as we drove. We got to Meijer's and bought firewood, lighter fluid, and matches. When it was good and dark, we snuck in to Evan and Anna's enormous backyard. We lugged the wood to the edge of Bear Lake. Then we searched in the dark for fallen tree branches and piled those on, too. I poured the lighter fluid on the pile while Sammie unzipped her suitcase and pulled out what looked to be a very large piece of canvas. She threw it on the grass, then dug back in her suitcase and produced five candles. Then she unrolled the canvas. It was so dark I could barely make out her or what was written on her “artwork.”

“What's it say?” I asked.

“Be quiet,” Elizabeth hissed, “or it won't work.” Sammie tapped my shoulder, the signal for me to light the fire. I threw match after match on it until the bonfire blossomed into the sky.

“How are we going to get her to wake up so she sees all this?” I asked.

Sammie's response was to pick up rocks from the edge of the lake and hand them to Lucy. “You're the best shot.”

Lucy started heaving rocks at the second-floor window we knew to be Evan and Anna's bedroom. They bounced off the glass, but no lights went on. Then we saw a shape at another window, the one next to their bedroom. Anna was sleeping in the guest room. She opened the window and peered out at the bonfire in her yard.

We were facing the house with Bear Lake to our back and the bonfire between the house and us. “Now!” Sammie commanded. Each of us four girls grabbed an edge of the canvas and held it up so Anna could read it. It said,
WE LOVE YOU, ANNA. WILL YOU BE OUR SISTER?
The bonfire lit our faces and the written message. The flames shot up a good eight feet. It was really about the most impressive bonfire any of us had ever made, I thought with satisfaction.

Anna stood there with her hands on the window ledge for a good long time, and then she disappeared. We dropped the sign and waited.

“Think she's coming?” Lucy asked as we all exchanged worried looks.

Then the door opened, and Anna ran across the lawn.

“Hit the button!” Sammie yelled. I bent over and hit
PLAY
on the boom box. Anna stopped in front of the four of us. We looked at her expectantly and she looked back at us. Then the music started, loud enough to wake up the county. “
We are fam-i-ly! I've got all my sisters with me!
” Sammie handed us all candles and Elizabeth, Lucy, Sammie, and I lit our candles from the bonfire. Anna stood apart from us holding her candle. We circled her and we lit her candle with the four of ours.

“
We are fam-i-ly. I've got all my sisters with me. Get up everybody and sing!
” We obeyed. The firelight danced off our bobbing faces and flashing feet and hips. When the music ended, we collapsed in a gasping, laughing heap in the grass.

Anna turned her face toward Sammie. “You came all the way back for me?”

“Yep.”

“You
are
all crazy—you know that, right?” But Anna's voice had a smile. “But I like that about you. I like being a part of your family. And I love Evan.” She sighed happily. “If he'll have me back, I can't wait to start to make our own family.”

“So no Florida?” I rolled over and asked.

“Nope. I just want to have a baby, like Elizabeth and Lucy.”

Lucy's voice came out of the shadows. “I'm not pregnant anymore.”

We sat straight up.

“I lost it before I got home.” Lucy's voice was barely audible. I reached across the grass for her hand and squeezed it. “I didn't tell anyone because I'm tired of feeling like one big apology. I wish I could scrub off every bad thing that's happened to me and make myself all shiny and new.”

Anna put her arms around Lucy. I put my head in my hands and thought about why my twenty-one-year-old sister, who had just graduated first in her class, felt like she was all used up. Anna jumped up. “Into the car,” she instructed, “all of you.”

It wasn't a night to ask what was going on. The four of us just did what she said. She drove to the bridge over the Bear Lake channel and parked. We all got out and looked at Anna for guidance. She pulled her shirt over her head and then dropped her sweatpants. “It's time for a baptism, or, as Evan would put it, a spiritual rebirth. A new start.”

Lucy giggled for the first time since she got home. Then she pulled off her clothes, too.

“No way,” Elizabeth pronounced.

“Yes way!” Sammie threw off every single stitch. I, more sedately, stripped to my bra and underwear.

“I'm pregnant, you know,” Elizabeth said, stalling.

“You dove in to the country club pool last week!” I said.

Reluctantly, Elizabeth followed us as we clambered up onto the wide stone railing and looked down at the dark water ten feet below us. Without speaking, we joined hands.

Anna counted, “One, two, three!”

We launched ourselves into the night. After a delirious drop, the water closed over us. The shock of the cold took my breath away. I counted heads. We were all here and Lucy was laughing and sputtering and splashing Elizabeth. When the spotlight hit us, we all looked up at the bridge. Marv Carson called out, “I should have guessed it was you guys.” The radio in his patrol car crackled and he went to respond to it. The five of us treaded water. We couldn't get out to retrieve our clothes while Marv was there. His face reappeared at the bridge railing. “Hey, Anna? You interested in the fact that the big, old oak tree in your yard is on fire?”

Anna gasped.

“Welcome to the family, Anna,” Sammie said happily.

Chapter Twenty-nine
May 2006

L
ucy begged me to take the afternoon off work to see Sammie and Elizabeth with her. Sitting behind my desk listening to her on my phone headset, I held my hand out level in front of my face. It didn't appear to be trembling. I took that as a good sign that my outsides weren't reflecting my insides. Steadfastly I refused Lucy. “I cannot take one more emotional drama today, Lucy.” Aidan hadn't answered my phone calls or emails begging him to call me. His assistant kept telling me he “wasn't available.”

My sister remained silent on the other end of the line. As a lawyer, she was probably trying to come up with an alternate line of reasoning.

“They are both completely pissed off at me. I can't have a big emotional makeup session with them today,” I said.

“They are angry with you because you always miss family gatherings,” Lucy finally said tartly, “which is exactly what you are doing yet again today. You know I have to leave tomorrow. It's not like we'll have more time to see each other all together later.”

“Lucy, I just can't,” I murmured.

“Fine. If I mean that little to you, then I'll just pack up my stuff and go stay tonight on Sammie's couch.”

I didn't get a chance to respond because she hung up the phone on me. With my thumb and forefinger I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, where I felt a headache forming. I had hit the perfect trifecta: all three of my sisters were furious with me at the same time.

My computer pinged at me announcing an instant message. Caitlin was letting me know that Jeffanie from
Jet Fuel
were on the line. Pushing my sisters out of my mind, I answered the phone.

Jeff Cross's voice came over my headset. “Stephanie and I decided we're not coming for the photo shoot after all.”

“May I ask why not?” I said a bit too sharply. The
Jet Fuel
shoot was in four days. Without Jeff Cross chances were good that the rest of the cast would also back out. The posters were already four months late. And now Jeff was canceling.

“We don't fly commercial,” Jeff said. Ah, I thought, they want a private plane. Oxford had a private plane, but it was strictly reserved for the top-level studio executives. If the studio gave it to one star, then every other star would demand the private plane. The cost was prohibitive to say the least. But maybe, just maybe, I could make another miracle happen.

“I might be able to get the Oxford jet,” I said.

“No. Not the Oxford jet,” Jeff answered. “We want the same plane the president rides in.”

“The president of the studio?” I was bewildered.

“The President of the United States.”

I sat back in my chair. “You want Air Force One?” I asked incredulously. This was definitely a new one.

“Danny told me he got that plane when he had to fly to do publicity for his last film.” Danny DiNoda, as every moviegoer knew, was the star of enormous hits. He had generated literally billions and billions of dollars at the box office. Mentally, I cursed the studio that had set a precedent by getting a plane that had served as Air Force One for their star. “And when Katsu called me this morning he said he thought it was a great idea.”

“Katsu called you?” Furious, I could barely keep my tone polite.

“Yeah. He seems like a great guy. He said he wanted to help you out on
Jet Fuel
because you have an overwhelming number of movies to work on.”

Katsu used the word
overwhelming
? Un-freaking-believable! It was a classic vinegar-wrapped-in-sugar kind of statement. He was pretending that he wanted to “help” me while also subtly indicating that I was no longer capable. The word “overwhelming” meant that a situation had become unmanageable for a person. It indicated weakness. Katsu had used that word very intentionally.

I forgot Jeff Cross was even on the line until he said, “Katsu told me and Stephanie that if you couldn't figure out how to get the president's plane, he could probably pull it off. That's what he said, anyhow.”

I'm sure he did.

“Wow. I guess I can check on it,” I said carefully. As Katsu was well aware, there was no way I was going to be able to get that plane. Neither could he, for that matter. “Is there anything else you would like?” The sarcasm in my voice was lost on Jeff Cross.

“Yeah,” he said. “Stephanie and I want one thousand tea candles set up in our suite—purple tea candles. And the suite has to be redone entirely in white. White carpets, white drapes, white bedding, white furniture, white bathroom fixtures. You get the idea.”

After I hung up, I figured I'd better get all the facts before taking this “upstairs” to the powers that be. I called a friend at the rival studio. True enough, they had secured one of the planes that had served as Air Force One for their billion-dollar box office star.

Surely, that had to have been before 9/11, didn't it? I asked. I was hopeful it would all be a moot point in this day and age. No, my friend had replied, it was only last year. A lot of different planes could be used as Air Force One. Baffled at government security, I thanked my friend and hung up. I had to take off my shoes to get through airport screening but any random person with enough money could hire out Air Force One? Amazing.

My friend had given me contact information for the plane. After checking to see whether Aidan had called or emailed (he hadn't), I got to work. Two hours later, after umpteen phone calls and transfers from one department to the next, I got my answer. One of the planes was available. The cost to use it would fund a small nation for a year. I called the Four Seasons. Getting this answer was less problematic. Sure, they said, they could redo everything in white within two days. With all the stars who stayed there, they were as used to strange requests as I was. But even I gasped at the price they quoted me.

In between the
Jet Fuel
problems, I was working the phones like a madman trying to get the
TechnoCat
trailer shoot organized.

After I compiled all the budget numbers relating to Air Force One and the Four Seasons, I took everything to Rachael. Silently she reviewed the demands along with the numbers. After questioning me closely about how hard I had tried to dissuade Jeffanie from the president's plane, she decided we needed to take this to the chairman of the studio. Not only was the budget astronomical but there were many political considerations as well. Rachael had the power to give the approvals but I knew she wasn't going to have this one on her head alone.

We took a golf cart across the studio lot to Vincent's office. The chairman and the production people were in a different building from the marketing people. It was a good two or three city blocks, filled with soundstages, between the buildings. When we entered his cavernous office, he could tell from the looks on our faces that this wasn't good.

Somberly, we looked at all the options. None were that appealing. Denying Jeffanie would jeopardize the current negotiations to get Jeff Cross for the sequel to
Jet Fuel
. On top of that, Oxford Music was near completing a contract to sign the platinum-selling Stephanie Langer to its label. It had already been a delicate negotiation. Finally, after discussing the pros, the cons, and the political fallout of setting such a precedent, a decision was made. We would do everything that was asked except, Vincent announced, the tea candles.

“Why not the tea candles?” I was startled. By far this was the most insignificant cost.

“Just to piss them off.” He laughed. “But honestly, why does anyone need a thousand tea candles?” Vincent poured himself some Perrier. “They're just seeing how far they can push us. Plus, I don't trust them with fire. They're nuts.”

I practically bit his head off. “Don't make my job any harder. They're looking for any reason to back out of this.” I caught myself as Vincent sat back and frowned at me. Oh God, I had just spoken rudely to the chairman. Worse, I had not been calm. To my thinking, you
must
be calm and controlled in a studio. Clearing my throat I continued in an even, moderate voice. “It's better for the studio to just give them the candles. There is too much at stake.” Not to mention better for me, as I was sure Katsu would go straight to Jeffanie to tell them I had failed to get them the thousand tea candles.

Vincent considered and finally nodded his head. “Oh all right, Jeannie. You get your way. But we're going to squeeze this for publicity,” he said firmly. “Every photographer within a hundred miles of New York and Los Angeles will be alerted as to when Jeffanie are traveling.” As I stood up to leave I heard him mutter, “I'll make their lives hell with the paparazzi. Serves the bastards right.”

Since Rachael wanted to discuss other matters with Vincent, I left her the golf cart and began walking back across the lot. Darkness had fallen. I walked past the silent soundstages where silver screen history had been made for decades. Past the little house that used to contain classrooms for child actors in the nineteen forties and fifties. Past the recording studio where one-hundred-piece orchestras recorded the music for the films. The long trek gave me time to think about my situation with Aidan.

I could just write an email telling him that it was Lucy in my house and not some mysterious Dream Date. But that felt oddly impersonal, as did trying to explain the whole situation to his voice mail. He was still going to be angry once he found out one of my sisters had been in the house and I hadn't introduced them. Which unfortunately reminded me that my three sisters were probably trashing my good name at this very moment. Then I checked my watch. No, they had already finished trashing me and were probably all tucked in for the night by now. My thoughts drifted from families to marriage. Why couldn't Aidan just leave it all alone? Everything had been fine just the way it was until he proposed.

My marriage to Walker had been an emotional disaster. But, I questioned myself, Aidan and Walker were as different from each other as black and white, weren't they? Walker had forced me to vacation every Christmas for six years at his family's ski condo in Aspen instead of going to North Muskegon. Every time I suggested we spend the holiday with my family Walker brought up the year that my mom poured alcohol over a fruitcake and, holding it merrily aloft, set it ablaze. Unfortunately this had frightened Ake, the dog, who knocked my mom and the fruitcake into the Christmas tree, setting that on fire, too.

Mom was fine. But by the time the fire trucks left we were minus part of our roof and most of the TV room. The local news station played the footage of the blaze over and over, along with rehashing older news stories about my family. Walker was horrified we had created such a commotion in our town yet again. Surely Aidan wouldn't hold something like that against me, would he?

I looked up as I crossed the courtyard, with its mature eucalyptus trees. The old-fashioned streetlights lining the golf cart path lit up the branches. Nobody seemed to be around. Looking over my shoulder, I determined that I was, in fact, alone. Mindful of my skirt and high heels, I sat down on the grass next to the cart path. Then I lay all the way down so I could study the way the lights shone through the leaves of the trees above me. It looked the same way it did when I was a kid, lying in the intersection of a quiet street. Every color of green rustled in the warm wind against the black sky. I knew I loved Aidan. But he just didn't know what he was getting into. If he didn't accept my family the way I did, shouldn't I protect him from all of that? And myself? The grass poked me through my white shirt and against my legs but I still lay there.

“You all right?” A voice on the cart path startled me upright. It was a security guard making rounds. He leaned out of his golf cart to peer at me suspiciously.

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.” Awkwardly, I got to my feet while trying to keep my skirt down. Next I picked up my notebooks lying on the grass.

“Bit of a weird place to take a nap.” The security guard still eyed me warily. “I thought you were dead.”

“I just . . . I just . . .” I didn't know how to explain what I had been doing. I finally settled for, “I'm not dead.”

“You never know around here,” he said as he started to drive off. “You wouldn't believe the stuff I've seen.” Oh, yes, I would, I thought to myself as I brushed myself off. I walked fast to get back to my office. Once there, I planned to grab my purse and head straight for Aidan's. We were going to talk this out once and for all. I had to make him understand that a girl shouldn't have to choose between the love of a man and the love of her family.

Entering the empty lobby of my building I said hello to the night security guard at the desk. We were old friends by now. Usually we were the only ones in the building at midnight long after the cleaning crew had left. Tonight, though, a workman was also in the lobby. He was putting the latest poster for
TechnoCat
into one of the frames that held the posters of all of the current Oxford Pictures releases. He finished and shut the glass door to the case as I was crossing the wide terrazzo floor.

Mid-step, I froze. There, larger than life, was the little “doohickey” sticking up on the side of Esperanza's head. The doohickey she had said reminded her of her third grade photo, which had made her cry for years. The doohickey I had
promised
I would fix. The glaring flaw was right now being posted in theaters around the country—hell, around the world—as I stood and stared at it.