Fame

by Karen Kingsbury

  Daughter . . . hear My voice . . . know Me.

  She opened her eyes and gazed up. “God,” she whispered, “is that You?”

  There was no response, but the quiet words still echoed in her heart. Hear My voice . . . know Me. What did it mean? Hadn’t God made His ways clear to her earlier? The Flanigans had given her their blessing, and Dayne had told her that the situation with Tad was a rarity, an exception. Wasn’t this the dream come true she’d spent her childhood wanting?

  She blinked and steadied herself. Dayne would be waiting, and tomorrow they were supposed to talk about the details of her contract. Only now nothing about it seemed as exciting as it had a few days ago, even a few hours ago. She left the bathroom and padded back down the hall.

  All the while her heart pounded out an irregular beat.

  Dayne was making a plate of cheese and fruit when she turned into the kitchen. “Hey.” He smiled at her. “Sit at the table over there in the dining room. I’ll be done in a minute; then we can talk.”

  She did as he said, but she wondered what they would talk about. The fact that stalkers were a rarity? that the life of a Hollywood actor really was pretty normal other than the paparazzi and stalkers and wild nightlife and autograph seekers? She checked her watch. It was late, and the police were still on their way. She wouldn’t get to sleep until midnight.

  Across from her was a magazine, one of the tabloids sold at supermarket checkout stands, the kind she rarely bought or looked at. But now, with Dayne busy in the kitchen, she slid it closer.

  There on the cover was a picture of Dayne and actress Kelly Parker. The two were kissing, and the headline questioned whether they were back together again. Katy frowned and looked at the date. It was the current issue. Hadn’t Dayne said he wasn’t seeing anyone? She opened the magazine to the spread of Dayne and Kelly. If the story the pictures told was true, Dayne might not be “seeing” Kelly, but he was definitely sleeping with her.

  Katy felt her stomach turn. The strange feeling in her chest, the tightness and odd heartbeat, felt worse than before. Why had he lied to her? Did he think she wouldn’t find out about Kelly? And what did he owe her, anyway? This was obviously the way of things among Dayne and his peers. He probably thought nothing of spending the night with someone.

  She shuddered.

  The words she’d felt God impress upon her heart a few minutes ago came back: Daughter . . . hear My voice . . . know Me. In light of all God would want for her life, everything about Dayne Matthews and his offer felt cheap and plastic.

  She turned the pages, flipping past stories of two long-married couples, both now broken up, and one actress who had spent tens of thousands of dollars on Botox injections and chemical burns to keep her face looking young. “In this business,” the actress was quoted as saying, “you’re only as good as the skin on your face.”

  Nausea welled up in her. What was she doing here, anyway? She felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. If she could click her heels three times and be back at the Flanigans, she would.

  “You okay out there?” Dayne called from the kitchen. “I’m almost done.”

  Katy struggled to find the words. “Yes. I’m . . . I’m fine.” Another few pages and she saw photographs of movie stars caught in terrible moments—blowing their noses or adjusting their clothing. And near the back was a series of pictures of Dayne at a nightclub, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

  Katy studied the picture, stunned. Hadn’t Dayne said he avoided the nightlife? So what did he mean? That he only partied on the town a few times a week? She felt like she was being shown an entirely new side of the man, and the view wasn’t attractive.

  It was Tad Thompson all over again.

  Suddenly everything the Lord had laid on her heart made perfect sense. What had she felt before when she prayed about taking the part? That God would give her a sign, right? And now it was the same thing all over again. God wanted her to hear His voice, to know Him. And how better to know Him than by knowing what He wasn’t, where He wasn’t?

  Dayne came up and stopped short, two plates of food in his hands. “What are you reading?”

  Katy shut the magazine and pushed it away. She turned and met Dayne’s eyes. “Take me back to my hotel, please, Dayne.”

  “Katy . . . you can’t believe what you read; I told you that.” He set the food down and took the chair beside her. He was about to say something else when there was a knock at the door.

  “The officers?” She sat back in her chair. They wanted a statement from her too. “We’ll talk about this after they go.”

  Dayne opened the door, and two policemen came in. He showed them to the table, and for an hour they recounted the events of the night. With every passing minute, Katy became more certain, more sure of her decision. Her time in LA was almost over. She would go home and find her place in Bloomington where she belonged. God had been faithful, as always.

  If the night’s events weren’t signs enough, she wasn’t looking.

  When the officers had everything they needed, they gathered their notes and promised to be in touch with Dayne. “With the threats she made in writing and the attempt on Ms. Hart’s life, we’re pretty sure she’ll be locked up for a long time.”

  Katy wished the news brought with it some relief to the anxiety that strangled her soul, but it didn’t.

  When the police left, Dayne turned to her. “Did you hear what they said? She’s gone, locked up. She won’t be a problem.” He sat down beside her, his eyes locked on hers. “Don’t run, Katy. Please . . .”

  His words were too little, too late.

  “Dayne . . . you tried.” She looked at the magazine and raised one shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

  “Listen to me, Katy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking desperate for the right words. “What happened today will never happen again. Obsessed fans jumping out of bushes with knives?” He tried to laugh, but it fell flat. “The photographers and magazines, yes.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “There’ll always be that side of the business. But what happened tonight won’t happen again in a . . .”

  His voice trailed off, and silence put up a wall between them.

  What was he trying to do? Convince her that staying would be best for her? It would be best for him, yes, but not for her. She closed her eyes for a moment. God . . . let him see what he’s doing, please. Dayne needed to release her rather than convince her to stay.

  Another minute passed, and then he sucked in a strong breath and hung his head. “I’m sorry.” He took her hands in his. “You don’t belong here, do you?”

  It was the first completely honest thing he’d said since the police left. She gave the slightest shake of her head, her eyes watery. “No, Dayne, I don’t.”

  He ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “You know what’s sad?” His eyes found hers.

  “What?”

  “That’s why you’re perfect for the part.” He studied her, his heart transparent. “Perfect, and perfectly unable to take it at the same time.”

  She felt the loss, much as he must’ve been feeling it. There would be no friendship forged, no chance at love. The canyon between their worlds had proved greater than any bridge that might’ve spanned it.

  The time had come for him to let her go, and after a minute he found the strength to do so. “I’ll take you back now.”

  “Thank you, Dayne.” She stood and slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Thanks for understanding.”

  He breathed out and his shoulders slumped. Dayne Matthews, golden boy of the silver screen, looked—for the first time in the brief period Katy had known him—utterly defeated. “Okay.” His lips came together tight in a straight line. “I’m sorry, Katy. This isn’t how I thought things would go.”

  She didn’t want to cry, not until later. She gave him a sad smile. “Me either.”

  On the way back to her hotel, they said little. Katy remembered her conversation with Rhonda, the idea tha
t maybe Dayne Matthews was the man God had planned for her. The idea was both sad and laughable now. Dayne might’ve played the role of a genuine, well-mannered guy. He’d convinced her that he wasn’t only single but quite possibly interested in her.

  She shivered at the thought of what might’ve happened if she’d taken the part: her picture in the magazines time and again, people guessing about whether they were in a relationship and whether Kelly Parker was upset by the fact. All the wondering and waiting and not knowing if Dayne was finding his way back to one of his former loves when he wasn’t with her.

  She stared out the side window at the heavy traffic on the Hollywood freeway. God . . . You rescued me more than once today. I’m so glad I heard You.

  “What are you thinking?” Dayne gave her a quick look but kept his eyes on the road. His tone was filled with compassion, one that Katy didn’t doubt.

  “I was praying.”

  Dayne hesitated. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  Katy felt sorry for him. Big-time actor with everything in the world going for him but with a grudge against God bigger than his mansion in Malibu. She bit her lip and looked at him. “Prayer helps me.” She kept her tone soft. “You prayed when you were younger, right?”

  “Right.” Dayne gave her a casual look of disdain. “Whatever came of it? I grew up without my family and lost my parents in a plane crash.” He tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth barely lifted. “Wasn’t real encouraging, you know?”

  Now that she was headed back home, she could take a fresh look at Dayne. He was lost, more than she’d realized at first. “Even though I’m not taking the part, I wish we could stay friends. I think . . . I think it would be good.”

  He chuckled, more relaxed. “You mean maybe you could help me?”

  “No! Not like that.” For the first time since the attack she felt her spirits lift. “I mean, maybe I’d be a safe person for you, someone you could talk to without worrying that the press was going to capture every minute.”

  “I know.” His expression softened. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” He pulled up in front of her hotel. For a long while he only looked at her, searching her eyes. Then he touched her cheek the way he had earlier. “You sure I can’t change your mind?” He paused. “It’s just one film.”

  The possibility wasn’t even a little tempting. God had given her the answer she needed, and back in Bloomington there were a hundred CKT kids who wouldn’t ever have to say good-bye to her. The prospect made her feel safe and warm and right inside. Bloomington was where God wanted her, and she would go back with no regrets.

  He was waiting for her answer. She took hold of his hand and shook her head. “I can’t, Dayne. I have no doubts.”

  “Okay.” He leaned against the inside of his door and looked at her. “I’m sorry again.” He pressed his knuckles to his lips, as if there was a lot more he wanted to say. Finally he dropped his hand. “Can I tell you something honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though I don’t like it—” his eyes shone a little more than before—“I have a feeling you’re making the right decision.” He shrugged. “Like I said earlier, you don’t belong here.”

  They said their good-byes, and Katy made her way to her hotel room. When she shut the door behind her, she fell against it and breathed out. The whole thing—getting the call from Mitch Henry, auditioning with Dayne, thinking she could waltz into Hollywood and take a leading role without disrupting her real life—all of it felt like something from a dream.

  But it was over, and that’s what mattered.

  She thought about Dayne’s last statement. He must’ve cared about her somewhat; otherwise he wouldn’t have told her what was in his heart. That though he wanted her to take the part, though he wanted to convince her that starring in one movie wouldn’t change anything, the truth was he agreed with her decision.

  Bloomington was better for her; anyone could see that.

  An unfamiliar feeling began working its way through Katy, from her hands and feet through her limbs and all the way to her heart and soul. Only then did she realize what it was. It was peace. And with that, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed Rhonda Sanders’ phone number.

  Her friend answered almost immediately. “Hello?”

  “Rhonda . . . it’s me.” Katy felt a smile fill her face. “I have something to tell you. . . .”

  The party tonight was at the Baxter house.

  They had gathered to give Ashley and Landon a proper send-off on their much-delayed honeymoon, a barbecue compliments of Ashley’s father and a full house with everyone except Luke and Reagan in New York City and Erin and Sam in Texas.

  Ashley was in the kitchen with Brooke and Kari, the three of them peeling fruit for the ambrosia salad.

  “So . . . you must be so excited.” Brooke was working with the bananas. The sleeves of her pale blue blouse were rolled up. “You and Landon deserve this after all you’ve been through.”

  The anticipation had been building for the past week, and Ashley nodded. “I can’t wait. A cruise for a whole week, Landon and I on the Caribbean seas?” She laughed and raised her brow. “I’m way beyond excited.”

  Kari dumped a pile of apple peelings into the trash and looked at Brooke. “Let’s get the kids together a couple times while they’re gone.” She grabbed another few apples and moved back to her spot at the counter. “Cole’s thrilled to hang out with Jessie, but I know he’d love to see Hayley and Maddie too.”

  “Okay. We can go to the park.”

  A strange feeling poked at Ashley’s heart. “I’m going to miss my little guy.”

  “You haven’t been away from him this long since he was born, right?” Kari took the peeling off another apple.

  “Right.” Ashley swallowed. “But it’ll be good for all of us.”

  “It will.” Brooke smiled at her. “You can’t stay by their sides every minute.”

  The comment hung in the air among them for a few moments. Brooke had come so far since little Hayley’s near drowning. She and Peter had been through counseling, and they understood that parents can only do so much to protect their children and that ultimately they belong to God first.

  Kari put her arm around Brooke. “How’s Hayley?”

  “She’s doing so well.” Brooke’s eyes glistened. She ran a handful of green grapes under the kitchen faucet. When she turned the water off she looked at Kari and then at Ashley. “She said a sentence the other day. She said, ‘Mommy, see Maddie!’” Brooke gave an amazed shake of her head. “Every word she says, every step she makes, I’m reminded of the truth—that God still works miracles among us today.”

  Ashley felt her eyes get watery. “And all I have to do is look at the wedding picture of Landon and me.”

  “There were days when I really doubted you’d ever get together.” Kari grabbed another apple and started peeling it. “I’m so glad Mom got to see you marry him. It was something she’d prayed about for so long.”

  “I know.” Ashley felt her lip quiver. She hesitated, letting the moment pass. There were too many happy moments ahead for her to be sad now. “God was good to let us have that.”

  Landon came into the kitchen. “Sounds like a serious conversation.” He came up behind Ashley, slipped his arm around her waist, and kissed the back of her neck. “Our plane leaves in twelve hours.”

  “Someone’s eager.” Kari giggled and raised her eyebrow at Ashley and Landon.

  “Are you kidding?” Landon took a step back and smiled at the three of them. “I’ve been eager for a year.”

  The group laughed, and Ashley noticed Peter outside talking to her father near the barbecue. She loved this, having everyone together. They were setting the table when Cole came running in from outside. His face was tan from the recent warm days, his hair blonder than ever. “Papa says the chicken’ll be done in three minutes.”

  “Okay.” Kari tousled his hair and smiled at him. “Tell Papa we’ll be
ready.”

  The dinner came together in a way that would’ve made their mother proud. It had been a year since she died, but still they felt her loss as strongly as if she’d been gone only a few days. Times like this were especially hard. Ashley still caught herself looking over her shoulder, expecting to see her mother in the kitchen whipping up one of her famous salads or a pitcher of lemonade.

  But in her absence, they were better off being together, celebrating life the way she would’ve celebrated it with them had she been there.

  Dinner was upbeat and lively.

  Cole told everyone he was learning to walk on his hands. “When I grow up—” he had a smear of barbecue sauce on his chin—“I wanna be in the circus and walk on my hands all day long.”

  Ashley gave a thoughtful nod, hiding the smirk on her face. “We’ll definitely buy tickets for that.”

  “Hey, Cole.” Peter held his fork in one hand and looked down the table. “I thought you were going to be a fireman like your daddy.”

  “I am.” Cole chewed a bite of chicken and then grinned at Peter. “I’ll fight all the fires at the circus, and when there’s no fires I’ll walk on my hands.”

  Ashley’s heart was full. She loved Cole so much. If God was willing, she hoped she and Landon would have a child. The sooner the better, if she had her way. Cole would make a wonderful big brother.

  The conversation shifted to Kari and Ryan’s baby. Ryan Junior was trying to pull himself up already.

  “He’ll be throwing touchdown passes any day now.” Ryan chuckled. “At least that’s the way it feels when I look at him.”

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Their dad had been fairly quiet throughout the meal, but now he smiled at Ryan and the others. “There’s nothing like watching your children grow up, watching them become the people God created them to be. Your mother and I . . .” He paused, and for a moment his voice was too thick to continue. “Your mother and I loved every minute of raising you kids.”