Catch a Rising Star (25 page)

“Thanks,” I mumble through glazed eyes. “So are you.” Then I realize what he’s saying, and my face goes even hotter. “Oh.
Sorry.”

He frowns down at me and takes a seat. His hand goes to my head before I can move. “You’re burning up with fever. What were
you thinking coming over here tonight?”

Ever on the defensive, Dancy jumps in the middle of the conversation. “She was thinking that your girlfriend put her on a
guilt trip and got her to babysit.” She turns to the kids and gives them her broad smile. “But she was really happy to get
to spend time with you two.”

“Open your mouth,” David instructs.

I do, only because I’m too miserable to say no.

“Uh-oh.”

“Wh-what?”

“Sweetheart. I think you’ve got the measles. Fever, runny nose, white spots in your mouth.”

“I thought the spots were on the skin.”

“You’ll have a rash in a few days, if that’s what this is.”

“David, honey,” Rachel’s singsong voice penetrates the living room. “They’re waiting. Can we go?”

“Sorry.” David stands and faces her. “I’m going to have to back out on you, Rachel. Tabby’s too sick to watch the kids.”

“What? Oh, Tabby, please. Are you sure you’re not faking it so David can’t go out with me?”

I’m going to kill her. If Dancy doesn’t do it first. My friend clears her throat, a telltale sign she’s about to tear Rachel
to shreds with her extensive vocabulary.

“Yeah, she’s faking a case of measles, you…” Thank goodness she stops.

“Measles?” I hate the amusement in Rachel’s voice. “Our Tabby has measles?”

“She got ’em from us,” Jeffy pipes up. “Don’t worry, Miss Brockman. We know how to take care of you.” He turns to Jenn. “Let’s
make her some tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

My heart melts. Clearly I’ve been completely wrong about these two. “That’s so sweet of you, Jeffy.”

I meet David’s gaze, and he’s smiling at me.

“Listen,” I hear myself saying. “You don’t want to miss your reservations. Dancy’s here with us. I’m not going to reinfect
the kids so go and enjoy your evening, and I’ll lie on the couch and rest while you’re gone.”

“No way,” David says with a frown.

“Oh, David, please? Where am I going to find another date this late?” Rachel’s whiny voice pipes up. “The kids are covered,
Tabby will be asleep in five minutes, so let’s go have our dinner with Trey and Julie.”

“Rachel’s right, David. I’ll be okay. Besides, the kids want to fix me some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Are you going
to deprive me of that?”

He hesitates. “All right. I suppose.”

Rachel slips her hand through his arm once more. “Let’s go, then. The meter’s running.”

I close my eyes and finally give in to my desperate need to lie down. A minute later a warm, fuzzy blanket covers me. My eyes
hurt so I don’t open them. But I feel a hand caress my head. “Sleep tight, Tabby,” David whispers.

“Mmm…” is the most I can muster before sliding into darkness.

I’m floating through the air. I have no idea where I’m going, only that strong arms are around me and I’m being carried. Carried?
I gasp and try to sit up.

“Take it easy, Tabby.”

“David?”

“It’s okay. I’m taking you to Dancy’s car.”

“I’m too heavy,” I hear myself protest.

“Shh. You hardly weigh anything at all.”

I snuggle back against his chest because it feels good to be taken care of. This moment is so surreal, I’m almost positive
I’m dreaming.

“David?” I whisper through the dreamy fog.

“Hmm?”

“You’re too nice for Rachel. Don’t go out with her anymore, okay?”

His chest beneath my fever-ravaged head rumbles, and I wonder if he’s laughing.

“Laugh if you want,” I hear Dancy say. “But she’s right, you know.” Dancy? When did she enter my dream?

“Rachel doesn’t mean to be so insensitive. She’s going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah, sure she is,” Dancy says as I feel myself being lowered into Dancy’s passenger seat. Hmm. I guess I’m not dreaming
after all. Which means David just defended Rachel.

Which would be a real bummer if I weren’t going to die anyway.

T
he next three days are a blur of coughing, fever, runny nose, and pain in my eyes, followed by a few more days of measles
rashes—a total of ten days in all. My mother insists on being at my side and has made up a bed on the living room sofa. Thank
goodness she’s going home today. We’ve turned something of a corner in our relationship, but being cooped up with a mom for
more than a week is just more than anyone should have to endure.

Blythe is fit to be tied that her filming schedule is off. But a note from my doctor is keeping me out of hot water. I mean,
is it my fault I have the measles?

They’ve written my story line out of the show for a couple of weeks. Passing reference has been made to Felicia’s desperate
need to get out of town and process all the memories that are beginning to surface. How convenient for me?

But I can’t lose the memory of Rachel’s possessive hold on David’s arm as they left for their dumb ol’ date on Valentine’s
Day. I guess they must really be an item if he took her out on the most romantic day of the year. At any rate, he certainly
didn’t ask me out. Darn it.

He has, however, called me almost every day during my bout with the measles. Our conversations range from quick, “How are
you feeling today?” calls to hour-long getting to know you conversations. I’m starting to think David might actually be interested
after all.

“Well, I’m off now,” Mom announces as I’m finishing up my breakfast. I’ve been so ill, I think I’ve actually gotten down to
my size four. A tight size four, but still… Freddie will be proud.

“Want me to ride over in the cab with you? I know how you hate to take cabs alone.”

“No. You take today to rest.” She kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll manage just fine.”

“Thanks for everything,” I say, because even though I’m relieved she’s going home, she really did come through in a pinch.
And when I thought I was dying for a few miserable days, I was extremely glad to be cared for by my mother’s soft touch.

This is my last day off. It’s Friday so of course I have the weekend. But that doesn’t count because I’d have been off anyway.
I decide to take a hot bath and use some of Dancy’s aromatherapy bubbles. She doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, she’s delighted
when anyone takes on her particular obsession and soaks away tension.

I soak for a luxurious full two hours, reading
The Notebook
for the tenth time. What a love story. Will any man ever love me forever?

David’s face comes to mind. David… beautiful eyes, tender smile. A great father. And maybe, just maybe, interested in
me.

I’ve just dressed in a pair of Levi’s jeans (which are quite loose after barely eating a bite for ten days), my white T-shirt
from the Gap, and a light blue Nike track jacket. It feels great to have real clothes on instead of PJs. The sun is shimmering,
and the temperature has risen to the mid-fifties. Unable to resist the call of fresh late-winter air, I pull on my Nikes,
stuff my ID and a few bucks into my jeans pocket, and head outside.

After buying a soap mag from an outdoor vendor four blocks from my apartment, I duck into Nick’s Coffee and Dessert for a
chai mocha latte and a slice of cheesecake.

“Hey, yo there, Tabby Brockman,” Nick, the middle-aged Italian behind the counter calls as soon as I step inside. Dancy is
sure the coffee shop is a front for some business even more sinister in nature, but I’m not convinced. I’d rather believe
Nick is exactly what he seems—an overweight, slightly balding Italian with a great cheesecake recipe. His smile spreads across
his whole face. “If it ain’t our neighborhood celebrity. Where you been lately? I thought you started goin’ to Starbucks or
somethin’.”

“Never!” I step up to the counter. “I’ve been sick. Measles, can you believe it?”

“Ain’t you a little old for the measles?”

“You’d think.” I don’t even bother to be offended by the uncouth comment. I adore Nick too much. “Apparently anyone can get
it.”

“You ain’t gonna give it to me, are ya?”

I laugh. “No. I’m past being contagious.”

He’s fixing my latte without even taking my order. It would serve him right if I changed it up. But then, I don’t want anything
else. I’m such a creature of habit.

“Been watching you on that soap opera,” Nick says without looking up from the latte machine. “When are you going to get your
memory back?”

“Now, Nick, you know I can’t share story secrets. I could get fired.”

“Oh, come on. Not even to old Nick?”

I shake my head. “Not even the man who makes the best chai mocha latte and cheesecake in Manhattan.”

He flushes with pleasure and sets my latte on the counter. I dig into my pocket and pull out a twenty dollar bill. He frowns
and waves it away. “’Ey now, put that away. Your money’s no good today.”

“Hey, thanks, Nick.” I grab my drink and cheesecake and wander to my favorite corner table.

Rachel’s face glares at me as soon as I open my magazine to the Who’s Who and Stars around Town section. Rachel… and
David.
Rachel Savage enjoys a romantic dinner with a mystery man
.
She sure can pick them.

“She sure can pick them,” I mimic bitterly.

“Did you say something?” a woman’s voice asks. “Oh, Tabby, it’s you.”

Heat floods my face as I turn to the woman at the next table over. The woman who happens to be Greta, the pastor’s wife from
New Wine Fellowship. I wonder if I should say “God is good” or something. No. I mean, He is, but no.

“I’ve been hoping to see you again at church.”

I scrutinize the comment. What’s she really saying? But as I look into guileless eyes, I realize she’s not trying to guilt
me into anything.

“I’ve had the measles.”

“You got them from the Gray twins?” Her eyes go wide, and then she smirks. “I’m sorry. But I don’t usually associate measles
with someone your age.”

“Yes, well, actually my doctor says anyone can get them if they’re not immune. And it’s really hard on adults,” I pout, “so
I was miserable for days.”

“I’m sorry, Tabby. I didn’t mean to make fun.” Then how come her eyes are still shining with mirth? “Can I join you?”

Well, I really just wanted to be alone, but she
is
the pastor’s wife so I guess I should be nice. I nod, trying to drum up an enthusiastic smile. “Sure.”

She hops up with all the energy I lack these days and brings her latte and chocolate éclair with her to my table. “I’ve been
meaning to congratulate you on being back on the show.” She smiles, nodding toward the magazine. “I try to watch it once a
week so I can keep up with your character and the twins’ story line, but I don’t always get to.”

My eyes go wide. “You watch the show?”

“Well, I admit, I don’t much care about the other story lines. The only reason I’m watching at all is because you and the
twins are in it. Don’t tell anyone.” A laugh escapes. “Just kidding.”

I’m completely floored. I can’t believe this woman who exudes spiritual maturity and confidence actually watches me on a soap
opera at least once a week. She sips her drink and dabs her shiny lips with a napkin.

“Listen, I was wanting to ask you if you’d like to come share at a ladies’ meeting in April.”

Taken aback, I stare slack-jawed at the woman. “You want me?”

A smile lights her olive-skinned face. “Sure. You could give your testimony of how you came to know God. Talk about what it’s
like being a Christian in the TV industry. Especially as a soap opera star—you know what people think about those.”

“With good reason, for the most part,” I hear myself saying. Did I really say that?

“But every industry needs Christians. You’ve been placed strategically by God to make a difference in your world. It’s a big
responsibility—and an honor—that God trusts you enough to put you there, Tabby.”

“I’ve never really thought of it that way.”

She gives me a kind smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. “Maybe you should. David says you are a light in the place
and that there is a noticeable difference on the set when you’re off or if the kids are shooting a scene with someone other
than you.”

“He does?”

“Yep.” She glances at her watch. “Goodness. Time has gotten away from me today. I have to get home and start thinking about
what to cook my family for supper. Think about what I asked and let me know within a couple of weeks, okay?”

I swallow hard and nod. “Okay, I’ll let you know.”

I watch her walk away, laptop in hand, and something hits me.

Can I be your voice on the set of
Legacy
, Lord?

I glance back down and see the photo of Rachel and David. A sigh escapes me. It would be a lot easier if I could just be nice
to everyone except Rachel. What right does she have to be on the arm of such a great guy?

I know one thing. I’m going to be at church on Sunday morning. New Wine Fellowship. I think maybe I’ve found the church for
me. Heaven only knows what Mom and Dad will say about me switching churches, but you know? A girl can’t stay tied to the family
pew forever.

On Sunday, I talk Dancy and Laini into joining me at New Wine Fellowship. It’s only the second regular service I’ve attended,
and I’m energized as soon as the band starts to play. I’m caught up in the excitement when Laini nudges me. “Look who’s here,”
she whispers.

My heart speeds up even before I see the latecomer. When I turn following Laini’s gaze, I catch my breath. David’s eyes are
on me. I smile and somehow find the presence of mind to wave him over to an empty seat in our row.

“Where are the kids?” I whisper.

“Kids’ church,” he whispers back and that’s all we have time for until the service is over. After the closing prayer, he turns
to me. “Good to see you here.”

“Same here.”

“So, David…” I tense as soon as I hear Dancy’s tone.

I think he sort of tenses too. His face takes on a guarded expression. “Yes?”