Freefall (25 page)

“Did you talk to her?”

Cameron nodded but offered no details. That conversation still left a sour taste. Miss her? Like an addict missed the hit that would kill him.

Denny emptied the remainder of the shake from the metal cup into his glass. “It sounded like she’d been crying.”

“I’ll bet.” She’d have turned on whatever it took to get what she wanted, in this case Denny’s sympathy and cooperation. But why bother?

Denny replanted the straw in the shake. “A time to forgive?”

Cameron sighed. “She doesn’t want forgiveness, doesn’t need it. She has no regrets.”

“No chance of reconciliation?”

Besides Nica, only Denny knew it all. The night she’d unloaded her sordid details, he’d staggered to Denny’s and bled.
“How could I not know? Not even suspect?”

Then he’d called Nica because even two thousand miles away she would be feeling it. She’d answered in tears.
“ Tell me I’m wrong.”
They had sobbed together because he didn’t know yet how to stop the pain.

Because Nica had borne it, too, he answered, “No. No chance.”

The waitress brought two burgers, thin as cardboard, with ragged edges on buns the size of saucers, two sides of shoestring fries, and dollops of chunky applesauce brown with cinnamon. She clunked ketchup and mustard bottles on the table, Tabasco in front of Denny. Either she was clairvoyant or she’d memorized his personal preferences.

Denny watched her all the way back to the kitchen, then refocused. “So the gossip is the typical tripe?”

“Well, aliens did steal Gentry’s brain, but I didn’t sleep with her.”

Denny nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Driving home from the airport, Cameron dug his vibrating phone from his pocket. He checked the ID and answered, “What’s up, Nica?”

“Kai.” The pause was so long, his adrenaline kicked in. “Kai, they removed Rob’s leg.”

“What?”

“They couldn’t stop the infection, so they took him back to surgery.”

He had doubted Gentry’s optimistic reports but hadn’t really thought it would come to amputation. She must be completely unprepared. Her universe of possibilities didn’t include unanswered prayers. How would she handle the fact that this time God hadn’t come through?

“How is she?”

“Brave. Strong. Devastated.”

She’d been so determined to keep it from happening. “Are you there with her?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone else?”

“Okelani’s on her way.”

Good. Okelani was a
kahuna lā ‘au lapa‘au
, healer and plant specialist, and didn’t trust Western medicine. But even she knew nothing could heal a septic limb spreading poison. Some wounds were beyond herbs and prayer alone. At any rate, Okelani would make sure Nica didn’t overinvest. “Any press?”

“Not yet. But as soon as they hear …”

“It’s what she’s chosen, Nica.”

“Chosen?”

“It’s what her life looks like. Don’t let it take any more out of you.”

“Kai?” The tone of her voice told him he’d spoken more harshly than he’d intended. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong.”

“It’s me, Kai.”

He was silent a full beat. “Myra called.” Her name tasted like dead fish, a salt pool cut off and drying out in the sun, stagnant and brackish.

“What did she want?”

“To remind me never to make that mistake again.”

“Oh, Kai.”

“Listen, I’ve got to go. Tell Gentry I’m sorry, okay?” There was nothing he could do two thousand miles away. It irritated him that he wished there were.

TWENTY

Nica ached. Once again Cameron bore
the brunt of Myra’s pathological selfishness, shoring himself up against past hurts and future possibilities. Her sting spread like poison through his mind and body. He still believed he could resist. He didn’t realize that only by opening to the suffering could he pass through.

She closed her eyes, knowing pain would come unlooked for in the night or the bright of day. Sorrow struck in rainbow-drenched fields, in shaded valleys, in crystal coves. There was no resisting, no avoiding, only discovering what could be learned and given in its midst.

Gentry had touched something in Cameron. Okelani’s kitchen had been charged with their electricity. But he was backing away so fast, he would stumble over the possibility—and be grateful for the fall that saved him taking a chance.

Now Gentry had her own heartache. When the doctors had come out to say her uncle had made it through surgery, she had looked grim and sublime, in the midst of her dismay, radiating courage. She didn’t pretend the strength she’d shown on film; she embodied it. She’d been tested, but not broken. Unlike Kai.

But her strength didn’t make her impervious. Maybe, as Cameron said, she’d chosen her high profile. But she was still human, still hurting. Nica rejoined her. “How are you doing?”

Gentry paused her pacing. “I wish I could reach my aunt. She should know what’s happened.”

“Rob’s wife, or sister?” Nica took one of the beige chairs.

“Wife, but they’re separated.” Gentry sank into the other chair.

“She’s ignoring your calls?”

Gentry shrugged. “It’s possible things got worse between them, but I don’t remember.”

With Cameron’s ache fresh in her throat, Nica shook her head. “Was it hostile?”

“Decorously. Aunt Allegra would never fight. But she’s been on slow simmer since Uncle Rob realized he needed God in his life.”

“She objected to his faith?”

Gentry released a slow breath. “She didn’t know what to expect. She said things like, ‘Are you going to sell all we have and give it to the poor?’ ”

“And?” Nica glanced sideways.

“And Uncle Rob said if the Lord asked him to.”

Nica raised her brows. “I can see where that might elevate her blood pressure. Did she have much to lose if the Lord suggested an estate sale?”

Gentry managed a smile. “Uncle Rob’s invented some important things in the tech and communication fields—and invested well. It would be a big sale.”

“How sad that what turned her away was what she needed more than everything else he’d provided.”

“She doesn’t understand.” Gentry crossed her arms. “We’d had this mountaintop experience—just the two of us at eighteen thousand feet on Mount St. Elias. For a year we’d been pondering what mattered in life. And then up there, with the spectacular display all around, it just happened. Uncle Rob said, ‘I need this inside me.’ ” She turned with tears in her eyes. “We wanted the abundant life Jesus promised. And that’s what he gave us. Now …” She sat down, chin trembling. “How will I tell him?”

Nica rested her hand on Gentry’s knee. She didn’t try to say his life could still be abundant, only, “You’ll have the words when you need them.” Because Jesus wouldn’t leave her alone in this. When they hurt, he was closest of all.

Gentry sniffed. “Does Cameron know we were too late?”

“Gentry, you saved your uncle’s life.”

“But not his leg.” She gulped back her tears, then gave in.

Nica hugged her, wishing Kai had stayed, then startled when a photographer leaned into the room and snapped a photo.

Gentry pulled back as though singed while two hospital personnel escorted him out. She sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Cameron didn’t want you involved.” Gentry buried her face. “Everything I do hurts someone.”

“Oh, Gentry. I’m sure it feels that way, but—”

“I thought the troupe would change lives, but look what it did to Troy.” She rubbed her knuckles under her nose. “Being offered the part in
Steel
felt like a gift from God, his plan for me to make a difference. I was so excited, so afire with the challenge and opportunity.”

“And you walked into the realm of darkness with the Shekina glory still fresh.”

“Shekina glory?”

“The touch of God visible in you, like the light Moses covered with a veil. If viewers could see it, I assure you forces of darkness were even more aware.”

“But I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t pray out loud or preach at my fellow cast members.” She had fit in as well as she could, better than some whose egos or addictions caused conflict. She hadn’t trumpeted her belief that God had given her the part, the platform.

“It showed in your work. You were brilliant.”

And that meant she’d attracted evil forces, brought on persecution by revealing her faith in ways she didn’t realize?

“I don’t mean to diminish your talent.”

Gentry waved her off. Lots of people had talent; few soared to recognition overnight. But if God had directed it, why had he allowed such wreckage to follow? If God had led them to Uncle Rob, why take his leg like some bait-and-switch used-car salesman? You think you’re getting all this, but you end up with that. And even that’ll cost you.

“Every gift has its own trials.” Nica’s face took on an otherworldly glow. “Believe me.”

“How do I stop it?”

“You can’t. Not without squandering your talent. You’ve been given the chance to touch millions. Do you really think the ruler of this fallen world will let that happen without a fight?”

She had believed she was meant to make a difference. She just hadn’t thought it would make her enemies, or that they’d be so vicious. Being raised in a home where everything had a bright side had not prepared her to recognize evil.

She looked up when Okelani came in, bearing the subtle sweet scent of the buttery yellow lei she wore. In her own home, she’d carried herself with such ease Gentry had wondered if she could see after all, but here her blindness showed as she approached on the arm of the Asian man beside her.

Okelani removed the lei from her neck. Gentry breathed its scent as the blossoms settled over her own chest. The brush of Okelani’s lips was like butterfuly wings on her cheek.

“Da Lord say you
mea aloha
. Beloved. He want you know dat here.”

The warmth of Okelani’s palm against her heart brought tears again. “I prayed so hard.”

“
Ke Akua
wen pour out da lava and make dis world. He going take care dis too.”

She sniffed. “How?” When Uncle Rob would never be the same again?

“Big, his love. Bigger dan all dis.”

And there it was, the reason she would face the trials and not squander the gift. Even in her despair last night, she’d felt the overwhelming presence of the one to whom she’d surrendered upon the Alaskan mountaintop. Love bigger and deeper than any accusations or mistakes.

Nica handed her a tissue, and Gentry pressed it to her nose and cheeks. Though it sometimes felt as though the whole world was against her, the Lord had provided these two women, new friends in place of those who misunderstood her faith, resented her success, and deserted her in the scandal.

She embraced them both, drawing in their warmth and caring, and giving back her own. Then Darla walked in and reminded her she was Gentry Fox, star and pariah. Her dubious celebrity could bring misery to Nica and Okelani.

“There you are, Gentry. I was hoping to find you alone.” Darla came to a stop before her. “The press wants a statement. We need to plan our take on it.”

“Our take?” She stared.

“I’m sorry; that was poorly stated.”

Darla, the master of the perfect phrase, couldn’t manage the simple compassion Nica and even Okelani had expressed. Anger stung with a realization of her power. Two words could drop Darla to her knees.
You’re fired
. This was her chance to strike back.

Darla fanned her fingers through her short, coppery coif. “We’re all under a lot of pressure—”

“Darla.” Her voice was low and controlled. She had to keep it that way or she’d scream so loudly they’d hear her in Hollywood. “My uncle has lost his leg, and I’m devastated. You can phrase that any way you want. Now please … go.” Before she acted on all too human desire for revenge.

Nica and Okelani flanked her.

“I know this is hard.” Darla tried to look compassionate. “But they’ll want to see you. You have to give them something.”

A little more Shekina glory? She’d given them her best, and they’d dragged it through the muck. What would she lose by not making an appearance? Nothing near what the man she loved as much as her own father had lost. If the press, her fans, and the whole world rejected her, it couldn’t hurt worse than what Uncle Rob would feel once he knew how she’d failed him.