Stars Collide (20 page)

“The sweetheart roses . . .”

His embarrassment was evident. “Yes?”

“Grandma once told me that a florist who looked like Tia delivered sweetheart roses to her every week when she was under contract with Paramount.”

He nodded and released a breath. “And let me tell you, that was quite an expense for a young kid trying to break into the business. There were weeks when I chose roses over food.”

Somehow, knowing that only made me love him more.

“Why sweetheart roses?” I asked. “Some special significance?”

He chuckled. “She was my sweetheart, honey. Just made sense.” Giving me a pensive look, he added, “You know, Kat, life was much simpler back then. We were much simpler back then.”

I nodded, wondering what “simpler” would look like these days.

Grandma stood in the doorway, shivering. Only then did I realize her gown was still damp from the rain. “C’mon, you two,” she called. “Let’s get inside.”

We met her at the door, where Rex pulled off his jacket and put it over her arms. She smiled up at him and whispered, “Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.”

I could have interjected, of course, but knew better. Rex could take this one. It seemed appropriate, after all.

“Deborah Kerr,” he whispered.
“An Affair to Remember.”

“1957.” They spoke the year in unison, and my heart shot up into my throat. Interesting coincidence.

Not that I would be pointing it out. No, I’d pretty much decided the past was better off left in the past. And from everything I could tell . . . the future looked bright and sunny.

21

The Biggest Loser

The next few days whirled by at breakneck speed. Nearly every evening, Rex came over for dinner. On Saturday night, much to our delight, he brought his daughters, Jeannie and Jackie. My aunts. With them came a host of kids and grandkids. Turned out Athena and I had more in common than I knew. We both had large families—I just never knew it till now. Crazy how the unveiling of my grandmother’s secret changed absolutely everything.

Thankfully everyone took the news relatively well. Jeannie seemed a bit more reticent than Jackie, but who could blame her? This must have been quite a shock. She approached me—and Grandma—with a stiff arm as we welcomed her into our home. For a moment I thought she might ask for a DNA test. Then we pulled out the baby books and began to show off pictures. Turned out I was a dead ringer for about half of the babies in the family. This revelation brought more than a few tears from all in attendance.

“No doubt about it, Kat,” Jackie said as she closed my baby book. “You’re a Henderson through and through.”

“A Henderson through and through.” I could still hardly believe it. It felt amazing—and somewhat surreal—to belong to something bigger than the tiny family unit I’d always known.

Another revelation brought more than a few tears. As I pulled out old photographs of my mother, I saw the resemblance between her and the twins. They saw it too.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” Jeannie said, dabbing at her eyes.

“I wish we’d known her,” Jackie whispered.

Oh, how I wished that too. But we couldn’t go back, none of us. We had to forge ahead, learning from the past and applying what we’d learned to the present.

When our meeting ended, we made plans to go to Jeannie’s house next time. Then Jackie’s the time after that. Turned out there were more people to meet—Rex’s siblings, for instance. And their kids and grandkids. Wowza.

“Looks like our dance card is filling up, KK,” Grandma said as we stood in the doorway, waving goodbye to our guests. “We’re going to be busy girls.”

“Yes, we are.” I put my arm over her shoulders, noticing for the first time how bony they felt. “Times are changing, aren’t they?”

“Mm-hmm.” She yawned. “And to think, you and Jack will be married in less than a week! I hope those gardeners will kick into high gear and get the work done outside. The rest of the house is really shaping up, don’t you think?”

“I do.” I rather enjoyed the changes, actually. The new lettering on the gate. A fancy, updated mailbox. A lovely paint job on the outside of the house. Yes, things were really coming together. Embracing change was easier than I’d predicted. And to think, it only took a wedding to accomplish it.

Wedding. Hmm.

Scott and I still had to figure out what to do about all of that. We’d tossed around a couple of ideas, one in particular, but my stomach ended up in my throat every time. Looked like we still had some planning to do. Thank goodness we had one free day before heading back to the studio.

On Sunday morning, Scott arrived at our house bright and early to escort Grandma and me to his church. We decided that would be the appropriate place to worship, since we needed to meet with his pastor afterward to talk about the fund-raiser.

Rex met us at the church. For the first time, the four of us sat together in one pew—one big, happy family. I noticed the smiles of those seated around us, but no one asked any questions. If they had, I’m not sure how I would have responded. We weren’t quite ready to share Rex and Grandma’s story with the masses.

Afterward, the four of us headed off to Pink’s for hot dogs. Nothing like a great Sunday dinner. As we ate, Scott and I continued to whisper our plans back and forth to each other. Slowly but surely, things were coming into place. Maybe we would survive this wedding week after all.

On Sunday afternoon, Athena came over for a swim. Though we’d spoken by phone several times over the past few days, I hadn’t seen her in person till now. And what a relief to hear that the writers’ strike had come to an end.

While we floated in the pool, Athena and I talked through the events of the past few days.

“I feel like my life is complete now,” I said. “I have a family, Athena. A real family.”

She laughed. “You say that now. Just wait till they’re invading your space and keeping you up all night playing video games or having a slumber party in your living room.”

“I won’t mind. And I don’t think Grandma will either.”

“What do you think will happen with her and Rex?” Athena asked. “’Cause if I was writing this script, they’d already be married by now. They would have gone to a justice of the peace the same day she came clean with her story.”

“That’s exactly why you’re
not
writing it.” I laughed. “They need time to absorb the shock of all this. And Rex has some big decisions ahead of him. My grandmother’s health isn’t what it once was.”

“All the more reason to marry quickly,” Athena said. “They’ve missed out on a lot of years already. Why spend any more time thinking about it? Their time is already limited. Just go for it.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure. Rex had a lot on his plate, especially with the filming of the wedding scene coming up. No point in rushing him to the altar. They would make it there . . . in God’s time. And besides, he probably still had some heart issues to deal with. Grandma’s actions all those years ago had surely caused some pain that he would need to work through. With the Lord’s help.

Thinking about the issues he needed to work through reminded me of the one area in my life that still needed healing. A little relationship remodeling.

“You okay over there?” Athena dog-paddled by me.

“Yes. Just thinking of my”—I hated to use the word—“father.”

“Ah.”

“Finding my grandfather has got me thinking more about my dad.”

“Are you giving some thought to contacting him?” Athena asked. She leaned her arms against the edge of the pool.

I nodded. “Maybe. What do you think of that idea?”

“It’s about time. One of you needs to make a move. It’s a shame it has to be the child and not the parent, but that’s often the case.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I’ve been talking to Scott about it.”

“And he says . . . ?”

“He says he’ll support me, whatever I decide. But he knows it’s really my decision. I just feel . . .”

“Scared?”

“Yes.” A sigh escaped. “I don’t have any idea what he’ll say if he answers the phone.”

She ran her fingers through her wet hair. “Let’s talk it through then. Because I, as a writer, can tell you that there are three different directions this scene could go. You need to be prepared.”

I groaned. “Athena, not everything goes according to the script.”

“That’s why I’m giving you three options,” she said. “I can almost guarantee you it will go one of these three ways.”

“Okay, fine. Give them to me straight, then.”

She nodded. “Option A: he wants nothing to do with you. That will be a tough one to take, but you need to be prepared, just in case.”

“Trust me, I’m prepared. That’s probably how it’s going to go, if he even picks up the phone.”

“Maybe. Okay, here’s Option B: he’s curious about your call and willing to talk for a few minutes, but you won’t be able to tell if he’s interested in a long-term relationship. That would be hard too, but workable.”

“Are there any good options floating around in that brain of yours?” I asked.

“Option C: he’s been wanting to get in touch with you all of these years, and your phone call will trigger a conversation that will lead to an eventual relationship. God steps in, and voilà! All is forgiven. You start fresh.”

“Sounds so easy,” I said.

“Well, that’s just the synopsis. Acting it out—er, living it out—will be more complicated.”

“Naturally. It always is.” I looked at her, boggled by her suggestions. “How do you do it, Athena?”

“Do what?”

“Come up with all of these ideas? Where do they come from?”

“Easy.” She pushed away from the edge and floated toward the center of the pool. “From real life. I just observe people, places, and things. Then I add as much tension as I can. Tension is what drives a story, by the way. Never forget that. So your life thus far has a great plotline.”

“Lovely. That’s good to know.”

“It’s all about mountains and valleys, my friend. A good story has both.” She dipped her head under the water, coming up with her curly dark hair slicked back.

“Huh?”

She grinned. “You don’t want your story to be a flat line. How boring would that be? No, you need your life to have some low lows and some high highs. It keeps things interesting and ups the tension.”

“Ah. I see. Well, I’ve had some low lows, that’s for sure.”

“And some high highs too,” she said. “And it’s easier to see the good times for what they are because you’ve had the low points. All I’m saying is this . . . if the Lord chooses to mend the relationship with your dad, that will add a nice high point to the upcoming scenes of your life. And if he doesn’t, you’ll surely have more mountaintop experiences ahead, so don’t sweat the valleys.”

I shook my head. “Athena, did you ever consider work as a psychologist? This is pretty deep stuff.”

“I have, actually.” She grinned. “But I have a better deal as a writer. When I tell my characters to line up and walk straight, they do it. When a psychologist or psychiatrist tells her patients to line up and walk straight, well, they don’t always obey.”

“Brilliant deduction,” I observed.

“Thanks. I really said all of that to mean that it’s easy to write upcoming scenes in books and televisions shows. Trusting God to write them in real life is a lot harder. But it’s worth it. And you have to admit, it’s an adventure.”

“That it is,” I agreed.

I thought about Athena’s words all afternoon, long after she’d headed back home to her family. If I called my father on the phone, how would the next scene of my life play out? Would I soar to the top of the mountain or plummet deep into the valley?

Athena had made a good point. God would see me through this either way. And everyone needed a little tension to keep things interesting. Right?

Praying seemed like a good idea, but I wasn’t sure what to ask the Lord for specifically. Healing in my heart? A restored relationship with my dad? Somehow that second one just seemed a bit like shooting for the moon. And the first—being healed—would be my decision, whether my father accepted me or not.

Still, I’d never know if he wanted to talk unless I picked up the phone and called him, so that’s exactly what I did. At 6:47 p.m. Pacific time, I punched in the number I’d located on the internet years ago.

I called him.

For years I’d dreamed about this moment. Lived in fear of how it would turn out. But no longer. Today I would confront those fears . . . and confront the man who had disappeared out of my life at age seven, never to return. Maybe I would find answers, maybe I wouldn’t. But at least I would take a step in the right direction.

A whirlwind of emotions greeted me as the phone began to ring on his end. The “hello” took me by surprise. He sounded older than I’d expected.

“Hello,” I managed.
Deep breath, Kat.
“Is this David Jennings?”

“It is.” His voice had an abrupt tone, as if I’d interrupted him. “And who is this?”

“This . . . this is Kat. Kat Jennings.”

I was met with an uncomfortable silence from the other side. After a moment, he spoke, his voice now wavering. “Kat with Nine Lives.”

Just four words, but they were like ointment on my soul.

“Is this an okay time to talk?” I asked.

“As good as any.” He hesitated, but I didn’t let the awkward spaces get me down. Surely the man had a pretty big pill to swallow right about now. I’d shocked him, after all. It would take a few minutes to register that the past had caught up with him.

I made light conversation, filling him in on my life. At a couple of different points, I found myself rambling, my words laced with nervous energy. I asked a couple of questions about his family, which he answered with some hesitation. I wondered if he picked up on my anxiety. If so, he didn’t say. Instead he remained fairly quiet, only interjecting an occasional thought.

“I record your show every week,” he said at last. “You’ve done really well for yourself, Kat.”

No thanks to you.

The words slipped through my brain and I shook them off. No pointing fingers today. That’s not what this call was about. No, this was just about opening the door. Giving the Lord an opportunity to work. What happened next was up to him, not me.

My father’s next words startled me. “I read in the paper that you’re getting married. Is that right?”

A sigh escaped and I quickly explained the situation with Grandma.

“Sorry to hear that about Lenora,” he said when I finished. “Sounds like she’s as feisty as ever, though. She’s always been something else.”

“She’s been more than something else to me,” I explained, my words calculated but not cold. “She’s been a saving grace in my life.”

His silence was eventually followed by, “I know, Kat. I . . . well, I know she’s been there for you.”

This would have been a perfect segue for him to tell me how sorry he was for leaving me in the lurch. For hurting my mom. For causing so many unanswered questions in my mind. Instead he used it as an opportunity to tell me he had another call coming in. Go figure.

We ended with a quick goodbye. Nothing personal or intimate about it. I glanced at the clock, surprised to see the whole call had lasted only eight minutes. Strange, after we’d been apart so many years.

If I had to choose from the options Athena had given me earlier, I’d say it was an option B conversation. He was clearly curious about my call and had been willing to talk for a few minutes. But just like she said, I wasn’t able to tell if he was interested in a long-term relationship. Only time would tell. Still, I’d opened the door. And I’d somehow managed to do so without accusing him in any way. The Lord had stopped me from doing so on a couple of different occasions during the call.