Stars Collide (17 page)

“You have?”

“Yes. Relationships in Hollywood are tough. Tougher than any other place I know. So you’ve got to work extra hard to hang on to what you’ve got.”

“Ah.” I paused. “What did you mean with the brilliant actor line?”

“I’ve got you figured out,” he said. “You’ll forge ahead and act like everything’s okay when it’s not. You’re the kind to just keep going, to make sure everyone else is okay, even when you’re not.”

Ouch.

“It’s clear you and Scott are in love,” he added, giving me a tender glance. “I’d have to be a fool not to see it.”

I plopped down on the sofa next to Rex, not even caring about the dress now. Well, until a straight pin jabbed me in the side. I shifted positions and sucked in a breath. For whatever reason, I could only manage four words: “You’re right. About everything.”

He nodded and offered a sympathetic smile. “Don’t let any walls rise up between you, Kat. That would be tragic, especially over something like this.”

I looked at him and sighed. “I guess I thought you’d get a kick out of all of this publicity. This is going to be great PR for the show, right? Lots of drama.”

“I like to keep my drama on the set, thanks,” he said. “And to answer your question about publicity, no show—not even
Stars Collide
—is important enough to pull two people apart. Are you hearing me, Kat?”

Loud and clear. His words jumped straight out of those letters from 1958 into my heart. Though I didn’t have the details, I knew the man spoke from experience.

“Do you mind if I share something with you?” he asked.

“Of course not.”

“This is just between us, Kat.” He paused and I nodded. “One of the reasons we let Mark go was because of a difference in philosophy. Do you remember hearing him say that the show was as much about the chase as it was the catch?”

“Sure. He said that all the time. He wanted to drag the story out as long as he could to keep the viewers chomping at the bit.”

“Right. Well, the chase is good, up to a point. We all love that feeling of being pursued.” For a moment I thought I’d lost him—his eyes took on a faraway look. Then he snapped back to attention. “But we can’t live there, can we?”

“I . . . I guess not.” Though I wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything.

“Relationships are tough, like I said. They take work. It’s never as easy as it looks in books or on TV.”

“I’m figuring that out.”

“Scripted romances are formulaic,” he added. “And sometimes I think we do our viewers a disservice by sticking to the formula.”

“What do you mean?”

“In a typical romance, the hero and heroine don’t even kiss or express their feelings until near the end of the story. It never ceases to amaze me that women will spend two hundred eighty pages reading a book, waiting on one kiss.”

I shrugged. “Nothing new there. That’s how the great Jane Austen stories were. People love that sort of thing. They always have. I guess that’s why our viewers have been willing to watch for three full seasons, waiting on Jack and Angie to share their feelings.”

“Yes, but this is what bothers me about it.” Rex shook his head and gave me a fatherly look. “It’s like people think the only love story is the ‘falling in love’ part. The part that produces romantic feelings. They forget that the story is really just beginning at that first kiss. The true love story—in real life, anyway—is the part that comes after. Walking with each other through thick and thin. Staying with that person when he does something stupid and you feel like killing him. Marrying him and having his babies and dealing with dirty dishes and laundry. Walking someone you love through a health crisis. The ravages of Alzheimer’s, even.”

I hardly knew what to say in response. The impassioned look on Rex’s face told me he wasn’t quite done yet.

“
That’s
real love, Kat. It’s ‘I’m going to stick with you whether you have a job or not.’ And ‘I’m going to walk with you through the deepest valleys, overcoming every obstacle, even the worst health crisis.’ That’s real, God-breathed love.”

“Wow.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. Where was all of this coming from?

“We think that the only sellable love stories are the ones based on feelings,” he continued. “But I’d challenge you to think about the fact that real love is the stuff that takes place after the feelings have been exposed. The day-in, day-out stuff.”

“I guess that’s true,” I said. My mind shifted to the situation with Scott. If he and I really loved each other, that love would sustain us through the ups and downs we faced. Realizing this suddenly gave me hope that our relationship could continue to blossom and grow no matter what.

“That’s where the story is,” Rex said. “And that’s why shows like
Everybody Loves Raymond
and
I Love Lucy
worked so well. We got to follow the couple beyond the point of expressing their feelings to the working out of their relationship. Maybe those shows didn’t give us goose bumps, but they certainly made us laugh. And they taught us that love overcomes obstacles. They were wacky, but they were real. On some level, anyway. As real as we’re able to handle.”

Double wow. Was this guy on a roll, or what? I stared at him, still unsure of my response.

He reached to take my hand. “Kat, listen to me. Don’t let life rob you of the real love story. Do you hear me? I’m trying to share my heart here.”

“Y-yes.” I heard him all right. Loud and clear.

“I’ve been in this business too long. And the scripts don’t always play out the way you think they will. It’s not always ‘Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl.’ Sometimes we lose each other and the pieces never get put back together again.”

Perfect opportunity to transition into a conversation with him about Grandma.

“Now it’s my turn, Rex. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I rose and made my way to my purse, pulling out the letters. As I clutched them in my trembling hand, I whispered up a prayer that God would guide this conversation. I didn’t want to accuse. Didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I had to have some answers or I could never move forward . . . in my relationship with my grandmother or my relationship with Scott.

I turned back to Rex and placed the letters into his hands. He thumbed through them, and for a moment he looked . . . confused. And then startled. And then the tears came. They filled his soft green eyes and nearly broke my heart in the process.

“W-where . . . where did you get these?” He looked up at me.

“She’s kept them in a trunk in her room. There are lots more.”

He nodded. “Probably at least ten or twelve more, in fact.”

“Rex, I know you wrote these letters. And I know you loved my grandmother very much.”

He shook his head. “Stop speaking in the past tense,” he whispered. “I could just as easily have written these letters this morning, Kat. Nothing has changed. Nothing.”

My heart began to race at his honest revelation. “Rex, everything has changed. Maybe not the way you feel about her, but the circumstances aren’t what they used to be. And to be honest, I’m not even sure what the circumstances were back then. She loved you . . . but she married someone else?”

“Yes. She married someone else.” His jaw became tight. “I don’t know, Kat. I thought she loved me. But then . . .” He shook his head. “It didn’t work out. She fell in love with another man. Married him. Had his child. And I . . .” He paused, his gaze shifting down. “I was never the same after that.”

“Rex, these letters were sent after my grandfather died. You only waited six months to pursue her after his death. That’s . . .” I fought to find the right words. “That’s not very . . . honorable.”

“I . . . I know.” He rose and paced the room, coming to stop directly in front of me. “It was wrong of me, and I’ve lived to regret it. She never responded to any of those letters, Kat. Not one. I’m stunned she kept them. I always figured she tossed them as they came in. Any hopes I had as a naive young man slipped through my fingers all those years ago. So when I came to work here several weeks ago . . . when I had to face her every day and could see with my own eyes the condition she’s in . . . it broke my heart.”

“But it also gave you hope?” I asked. “That you could go back to the past, where things left off?”

He released a breath. “Maybe. When I see her . . .” His eyes lit up. “When I see her, it’s like no time has passed at all. She’s still that ravishing young starlet with her head in the clouds.”

“And when she sees you, she can hardly speak or think clearly,” I said. Shaking my head, I shared my heart. “Rex, I have to admit this is hard. I never knew my grandfather, but I . . . well, I almost feel sorry for him. I have to wonder if all of this would break his heart.”

“I understand, Kat. And if it makes you feel any better, I never knew him either. We never met. Your grandmother was very private about her relationship with your grandfather, and about your mother’s birth as well. She even stopped filming movies during that season.” He smiled. “I guess that being a wife and mother made her happier than being a movie star. I can certainly understand that.”

“Did you marry, Rex?” I asked. “Have a family?”

He nodded. “Married in my thirties to a fabulous woman named Emily. We had two daughters—Jeannie and Jackie. They’re twins.”

“Wow. I didn’t know.”

He laughed. “They’re definitely not into the whole movie business thing. And Emily . . .” His eyes filled with tears. “She developed a rare brain cancer when she was only fifty-two. She didn’t linger, but it was horrible to see her in such pain.”

“Oh, Rex, I’m sorry. You’ve been through so much.” I paused, deep in thought. “We all have.”

He exhaled. “Kat, I’ve lived a wonderful life. I’m blessed with two daughters and several grandbabies. On top of that, I had several years with a fabulous woman. But a number of years have gone by, and I still haven’t forgotten about your grandmother. She was my first love. And now she has no one. I have no one.” He offered a shy smile.

“So I guess there’s really just one question remaining.”

He looked at me, hope in his expression. “What’s that?”

“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.

A hint of a smile crossed his face. “You wouldn’t think it was out of line?” When I shook my head, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Kat, I know her health isn’t what it used to be. But I still see potential there. I want to take care of her. I want to be there for her. We’ve already missed out on so many years together.”

“I . . . I think I would like that too.”

He nodded and his eyes brimmed over with tears. “That’s all I need to hear. Moving forward without your blessing would be impossible. But with you on my team . . .” He grinned. “Well, with you on my team, I think I stand a solid chance of winning her over.”

“Winning her over?” I snorted. “I don’t think you’ll have to work very hard at that, Rex. The only question is how you’ll go about it.”

“Now that’s something to pray about,” he said. “But trust me, I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure you will.” I reached to give him a hug and happened to catch a glimpse of the two of us in the full-length mirror. My heart caught in my throat. What a lovely picture. The blushing bride. The grandfatherly figure. Wow. How my life would change if Rex moved forward in a relationship with my grandmother.

At that moment the door flew open and Grandma scurried inside. She looked back and forth between Rex and me, a dazed expression on her face.

“What are you two up to?” she asked.

“Oh, just planning for the future,” I said.

“Planning for the future, eh?” She reached to take my hand, her gaze shifting to my dress. “This is the best way to start! Oh, KK, it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. You’re going to be the prettiest bride who ever walked the aisle.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say in response, so I stopped right there. Turning again to face the mirror, I stared at the reflection of the three of us—Grandma, Rex, and me. With my grandmother in her glitzy gown, Rex in a suit, and me in my wedding dress, this looked for all the world like a family portrait.

I couldn’t help but think it really would be. If the writers would just finish that script.

18

The Love Boat

On the day after Athena and the others finished writing the wedding scene, every writer in the city of Los Angeles went on strike. And while we weren’t completely confident this would end soon, we did take it as a sign that we needed to get out of the studio and live life unscripted.

Scott came up with the idea of taking several cast and crew members out on his yacht for the day. I’d never been one for traveling the high seas. To be honest, the water rides at Six Flags made me nauseous. Still, I didn’t want to look like a party pooper. Besides, with the paparazzi hot on our trail, getting out of town did hold some appeal. And it would also give me time to spend with Scott, away from cameras and nosy reporters. For that reason alone, I would endure any potential seasickness.

We arrived at the harbor in Dana Point, and I looked out over the collection of yachts and other sailing vessels. What an awesome display. And with the first hints of sunlight peeking through the early morning sky, it looked like something out of a painting. I could hardly wait to get on that boat. To sail away and forget about my troubles.

I glanced over at my grandmother, who wore a sailor getup complete with cap. She looked like something out of that old Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly movie
Anchors Aweigh.

“Grandma, are you sure you’re up for this?” I asked as we stepped onto the pier.

“I love the sea, KK,” she said. “Always have.” She dove into a story about Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—something about sailing with them on his boat—but I wasn’t really listening. Instead I watched as Scott drew near. The expression on his face when he saw me—and Grandma—was one of introspection. He greeted me with a kiss on the forehead and a polite hello to my grandmother. Things clearly weren’t back to normal yet, but after today they would be—I prayed.

Rex arrived a few minutes later. He took one look at Grandma and beamed. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think I was looking at Bernadette Peters in
Dames at Sea
.”

“Oh, I’ve always loved her, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” Grandma said with a hint of flirtatiousness in her smile. She began to hum a little tune and before long was singing a little ditty called “The Sailor of My Dreams” in her funny, off-key way.

Rex didn’t look like he minded a bit. In fact, he seemed completely enamored with the sailor girl standing in front of him. I had a feeling they would be having a serious chat before the day ended. Maybe our experience at sea would free them up to express their true feelings after all these years. In the meantime, he took her by the hand and they made their way aboard.

Tia arrived wearing heels and a frilly blouse over designer jeans. I had to laugh. She would be sorry later on. Jason, our cameraman, looked pretty hunky in his tight-fitting T-shirt and swim trunks. Funny. On the set we occasionally chatted, but I couldn’t say that I really knew much about him. Other than the fact that he operated a camera, anyway. And had once given the boom mic operator the okay to whack me in the head midscene. Just for fun, of course.

Still, Tia managed to get on his bad side right off the bat. The fact that both would be spending the day together in such cramped quarters made me wonder what sort of chaos might ensue. It looked like we had some interesting hours ahead. What would happen if they started bickering again? Likely we would have to toss one—or both—overboard. What a headline that would make. I could just see it now: Stars Collide as Director and Cameraman Topple Overboard During Fight on the High Seas. I chuckled, thinking about the paparazzi’s take on that.

I waved to Athena, Paul, and Bob, who approached in casual summer clothes. Our writing trio might be on strike, but that wouldn’t stop them from sailing the high seas with our cast and crew. I had a feeling—knowing them—that the experience would produce future episodes for the sitcom. No doubt about it.

We boarded the yacht, and I found myself mesmerized as I took in the beautiful boat. Scott introduced her as
Little Star
, explaining that he’d named her after the kids on the show. That only made me love him all the more.

Everyone did a fair share of oohing and aahing as Scott prepared the ship to sail. When we pulled away from the dock, I felt an uncanny sense of peace. The yacht moved slowly, steadily, through the rows of other yachts and boats.

“This is great, Scott,” I called out above the sound of the water lapping the sides of the yacht. “Not bumpy at all.”

He nodded from behind the wheel, and I couldn’t help but think he looked very much like a ship’s captain, manly and confident. I’d seen him in a variety of roles before, but never one like this. I would have to work hard at not swooning.

Hmm. As we rounded the first turn, the boat swayed and my swooning began to feel more like nausea.

Deep breaths, Kat. Deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Athena and the other writers slipped into their usual creative mode. They were a clever bunch, always talking about the next story idea. But beyond that, they all seemed to get along. I’d never seen such a tight-knit group. All of them on the same page.

On the same page. Funny.

How exciting would it be to write scenes like they did? To push players around on the stage, tell them where to go and what to say? Must be pretty heady business.

The life of an actress was exactly the opposite. We just did what we were told. Most of us, anyway. Of course, today I was on my own, away from the studio. Away from the control of writers. Whatever the Lord wanted to do . . . wherever he wanted to take me, I would go.

Breathing in the salty air, I thanked him for this glorious opportunity to get away, to sneak a peek over the horizon. A few deep, cleansing breaths and my feelings of nausea passed. However, about fifteen minutes later as we headed out into rougher waters, my stomach began to do some serious gymnastics.

Uh-oh.
I drew in a deep breath, hoping to hold steady. No such luck. Counting to ten sounded like a viable option, so I tried that.

By the time I hit three, I was barreling down the stairs to the restroom. Thank goodness I found it empty.

Minutes later, feeling somewhat slimmer and slightly less nauseous, I headed up to the deck once again. Popping a piece of gum in my mouth, I looked around. The sunrise was fully upon us now. Others were snapping photographs and talking about the various colors in the sky. Grandma and Rex seemed to be enjoying each other’s company more than the scenery, but that didn’t surprise me. Still, I found the sunrise captivating. Awe inspiring.

Funny thing, though. Whenever I looked out at the purple-orange sky hovering over the rough waters, my stomach revolted once again. And why did I feel so dizzy?

Easing my way down the stairs, I prayed for a reprieve. How would I ever kiss and make up with Scott if this didn’t change? I was hoping to get our relationship back on track today. That wouldn’t happen if I spent the entire day in a three-by-four bathroom.

Another wave of nausea hit. This time I made my way into the tiny bedroom and lay down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut. I gave myself over to the bobbing of the boat. Up and down. Back and forth. Up and down. Back and forth.

Ugh.

Thankfully, after a short period of time, the constant rocking slowed a bit and I felt like I might be able to stand. Minutes later I was topside, chatting with the crew and acting like nothing had happened. Talk about a great acting job. Grandma chatted with Athena and the others—probably about my wedding—and I approached our captain, who stood firm at his post, keeping a watchful eye on things.

Scott gave me a sympathetic look. “Kat, are you okay?”

I eased my way down onto the seat, my head beginning to swim. “Um, not exactly.”

“I’m sorry you’re sick.”

The boat continued to rock. Off in the distance, Athena and her crew were laughing, as always. Tia and Jason appeared to be debating something . . . again. Nothing new there.

“I think this was a great idea, Scott,” I said, gesturing to the water. “Getting away is just the ticket. And . . . well, I think it will do us some good too.”

“We’re fine, Kat. Really.” He extended a hand and I took it. He placed my hands on the wheel and then stepped behind me, cocooning me while resting both of his hands on the wheel. In that instant, all of my fears sailed out to sea. I nestled against him, my heart completely happy. And relieved. I noticed Tia and Jason look our way. They both looked a little surprised, but I didn’t care. It was about time we let people know the truth.

“I talked to my dad today,” Scott said after a few moments of quiet.

“Oh?” I released my hold on the wheel and turned to face him.

“He didn’t know anything about the story, but it’s just a matter of time, so I filled him in. He seemed to take it all in stride.”

“Thank goodness.”

“He and my mom really like you, Kat. And Lenora too.” He nodded in my grandmother’s direction. “Hey, speaking of Lenora . . .”

“I know. Remind me to tell you later about my talk with Rex. But not now. I want to hear about your parents.”

“Well, I was just saying that they were bound to find out about the article sooner or later, but I think I’ve distracted that guy at the magazine. I called him on my way down here and gave him a better story than the one he ran.”

“Oh?” My mind reeled. “And what’s that?”

“Well, let me start by telling you that I sent the money to help my dad get caught up on the mortgage. And I suggested he renovate. I really think that will help bring in customers and ensure he never gets behind on the mortgage again. I’ll cover those costs too. I know he doesn’t have the funds to do it.”

“Oh, Scott. That’s great.”

“I also asked him for his wish list of all the items he’d like to carry—from the things he saw at the convention.”

“Oh, wow. What did he say to all of that?” I asked.

“He refused . . . at first. But after I finally talked him through the process, he was fine. The store has been struggling since a new Home Depot came to town.”

“And you think a renovation and update in product will help?”

“Well, sure,” he said. “People need to know that Murphy’s Hardware is going to be there no matter what other stores come and go.” Scott paused. “And they’ve got to be competitive. That’s a given. But I didn’t tell the reporter any of that. I told him that my dad is going to run a campaign selling T-shirts with our faces on them.”

“What?”

“Yep. Remember all of those pictures my mom took of us that last night at your house? Standing in front of the cement pond?”

“Sure.”

“Apparently a couple of those photos look really great on a white T-shirt. Who knew? We’re quite the rage in Alma, you and me.”

“Well, of course we are. Big fish in a small pond and all that.”

“Big fish in Mud Creek is more like it. But anyway, all proceeds from the T-shirts will go to the orphanage in Ensenada. And I promised to match the proceeds dollar for dollar. So
that’s
the story
The Scoop
will run online. The other one—about my dad’s store facing foreclosure—has already been removed from the website.”

“Oh, Scott, that’s awesome. I feel so much better. And just so you know, my grandmother didn’t do any of that to be malicious.”

“I know.” He turned the wheel a bit to the right, then leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. “And you’ve been working hard to protect her.”

“Just like you’ve been trying to protect your parents.” I sighed. “When did it become the job of the kids to protect the parents and grandparents, anyway?”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind, Kat. I think it’s biblical, anyway. We need to care for our own household, and my parents are my household. Even though, technically, they live on the other side of the country. But you get the idea.”

“I think you’re pretty amazing, Scott Murphy.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

I heard Athena holler out, “Would you two cut that out? You’re making us nauseous over here.”

I laughed and hollered back, “Don’t blame your seasickness on us.” I looked at Scott and smiled. “So, you’re okay with people knowing we’re a couple?”

“More than okay.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I plan to shout it to the whole world.”

“Hope you’ve got good lungs.”

“Won’t need ’em. Not with the paparazzi hovering around us at every turn.”

“True. What are we going to do about that?”

“Play along?” After a moment he grew more serious. “Kat, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. I don’t want to lose you. Next to the Lord, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t care what kind of stories run in the gossip magazines . . . I’ll still love you. And I plan to go on loving you . . . well, for the rest of my life.”

The kiss that followed almost sent the yacht sailing off into uncharted waters. Fortunately Scott managed to get us back on course in record time. I felt invigorated by his words, yet a couple of lingering doubts remained. I couldn’t seem to shake them.

I happened to glance over at Tia and Jason, who stared at each other in stony silence. For just a second I had a flashback to that dream, the one where I was sitting at IHOP with my parents. Their cold, hard stares left an indelible impression on my mind, searing my memory of them.

I looked at Scott. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” His eyes remained fixed on the water. Probably a good thing, since the waves had grown up around us, tossing the boat to and fro.

“You know how sometimes in restaurants you’ll be sitting near a couple you don’t know?”

“Sure.” He glanced my way and shrugged.

“Sometimes you feel like you’re invading their space because it’s just the two of them sitting there. And they don’t look like they’re having a very good time.”

“Ah.”

“I always wonder why some couples don’t talk to each other at the dinner table. They just sit there. Silent.”

“O-okay.” He looked confused.

“What if that’s us?” I whispered. “What if we run out of things to say?”

The laughter that erupted from him nearly rocked the boat. “Kat, you’re hysterical. First of all, I can’t ever imagine you running out of things to say.”