Tears fell on Kelly’s jeans. What was this? Why was she crying? She dabbed lightly beneath her eyes and blinked so she could see more clearly. Be strong, she told herself. Daddy is narrow-minded. He doesn’t understand. But no matter how she steeled herself against his words, her dad’s voice echoed in her mind. She kept reading.
My daughter, fame is a demanding lover. But fame is an illusion. Come back home, baby girl. Where you belong. We can sit next to each other in the front room and talk about you. The real you. I love you. Cal loves you, too. We’ve had the kids at our house this week. They know you’re busy, but they talk about you all the time. I tell them to pray for you. That’s what we’ll keep doing until you come back around. Your mother may write to you in the next day or so.
Love you lots,
Daddy
More tears slid down her cheeks. Kelly didn’t bother wiping them away. Her father didn’t understand her life, her situation. But she couldn’t deny the fact that he still loved her. She moved on to the other e-mail from her father, sent a day after the first one. As soon as she opened it, she saw it wasn’t from her daddy. It was from her mother. Her heart rate quickened.
Dear Kelly, it’s been a long time.
Kelly glanced out the darkened window, guarding herself against the guilt trip certainly coming. Her mother hadn’t talked to her since she and Cal split up. Her dad kept trying, but not her mom. The two had gotten into a fight the last time her mom called, and that was it. Kelly might not agree with her father, but here in the quiet of her own heartbreak she could at least acknowledge his effort. Since her breakup she could feel her mother’s disapproval in the silence and now in the opening words of her e-mail. Kelly exhaled slowly. My mother’s rejection is leaving my body. It can’t hurt me. The pain remained. She kept reading.
Your father is sick, Kelly. Very sick.
Kelly slid to the edge of her seat. What was this? How come no one had said anything sooner? Her mouth felt dry as she continued.
Your daddy was diagnosed with cancer of the liver a year ago. He didn’t want you to know. If you came back around he wanted it to be by your own choice, not because he was sick. Besides, you know your father. He thought he could fight it. The doctor saw him yesterday, and the truth is he doesn’t have much time. Six months maybe. He didn’t want me to tell you, but I insisted. You need to come home, Kelly. Before it’s too late. I love you even when I don’t say so.
Mom
Kelly’s hands began to tremble. She pushed back from the computer and crossed her arms in front of her, doubling over against the pressure of her fists in her gut. Her father was dying? It was impossible. Her daddy was bigger than life. The strongest man she had ever known. She’d been angry with him, of course. He was old-fashioned, stuck on his beliefs of the Bible. But he was still young and full of life. The way she would always see him. What had happened? How had he gotten sick? And how could she have just six months to make things right?
The events of the night swirled together, pressing in on her, sucking the air from the room. First Michael, then this. The tapes would be useless tonight. Tears filled her eyes again and became rivers running down either side of her face. Never mind how she looked in the morning. Her daddy was dying.
Suddenly everything about her life these last few years felt shallow and flat. What was she doing, running around with a twenty-seven-year-old womanizer? Regardless of her views on right and wrong, she’d made a public fool of herself and her family.
Her marriage was finished, her faith was a thing of the past, and her place on the celebrity A-list was always a photo away from extinction. But the little girl who lived inside still ached for her daddy’s arms. Deep inside she ached to be that sixteen-year-old nobody, in love with Cal and sure of Almighty God.
Tomorrow she would look terrible, but she no longer cared. She couldn’t go to sleep until she did the more important thing.
She pulled up her father’s e-mail and hit reply. For a few seconds she stared at the blank screen. Then gradually her fingers began to move.
Dear Daddy,
I read your letter and Mom’s, and I’m devastated by your news. How could you be so sick? There must be something we can do, some doctor who can help you.
She thought about her schedule. The soonest she could take a trip home would be midweek. Never mind their differences, she needed to go. She began typing again.
We’re taping Fifteen Minutes over the next few days, but then I’ll come see you. I’m sorry it’s taken this to make me come home. We can disagree about a lot of things, but not about family. I’ve been away too long. I’m sorry. I’ll call you this weekend and we’ll make a plan. We’ll find the right doctor. I love you, Daddy.
Kelly
A weight she couldn’t see or touch settled on her shoulders. She stood and trudged to her bedroom. There was no need to mess with the tapes tonight. Yahoo and a handful of e-mails had said all there was to say. If she’d had any remaining threads of belief in God, they were severed now. Michael was gone and her dad was dying. Her dad, the best man she knew. The kind of man the world needed more of.
If God were real, He never would’ve allowed that.
chapter 13
Zack wished they had another day to rehearse. The producers had them busier than ever, filming a Jeep commercial all day Monday and hosting a number of reporters on Tuesday in anticipation of the show’s debut next week. Every remaining hour was spent in rehearsals, but even that didn’t feel like enough.
On top of everything, Zack had exchanged only a few texts with Reese and his parents. The pressure was intense. Reese had assured him that she understood. His parents, too. Zack needed to put everything into making it through to the next round. And that meant he had to focus on his group’s number.
Zack sat eight rows from the front, next to Zoey. Like always. The girl was like glue. No matter how much he talked about Reese, Zoey found her way beside him. It could’ve been his imagination, but it seemed whenever Zoey leaned in to talk to him, one of the cameras caught the move. Kip had asked earlier today for an update on the budding romance.
“There’s no romance.” Zack had tried not to sound angry. Last thing he wanted to do was get on Kip’s bad side. Still, he was tired of the talk about him and Zoey. “She’s a friend. Nothing more.”
“Sure.” Kip had winked at him.
Now Zack looked to the wings and saw Kip talking to one of the production assistants. Standing beside them was a cameraman and sure enough his lens was aimed straight at Zack and Zoey. He looked at the stage and tried to block from his mind whatever story the producers were creating.
The rest of their group sat nearby.
“We’re up in three acts.” Zoey leaned in and whispered near his ear. “I’m scared to death.”
“We know the song.” He smiled at her. The sort of smile reserved for his sister. “We’ll do great.”
“I wish we had more time. We need it. You said so yourself.”
“Everyone needs more time. We’re good.” Regardless of what he thought, he needed Zoey to be calm. “You’ll be great.”
“But Zack”—she brought one knee up to her chest—“aren’t you a little scared? I mean, we’re at Carnegie Hall.”
“Zoey.” Zack forced a smile. “You need to focus. No more questions.”
“What?” She looked like a child who hadn’t gotten her way. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” He cast her a side glance. “Carnegie Hall or not, you can sing. You’ll be fine.” He looked straight ahead. “Just give it a rest for a minute.” He drew a deep breath. Why did she have to be a part of every waking moment of his Fifteen Minutes experience? There were other guys. Single guys. He felt bad for her, for her insecurities, so he tolerated her. That was all.
Even when he could feel the cameras on them.
She folded her arms. “I was just saying. I mean, Carnegie Hall. I still can’t believe it.” Zoey leaned back in her seat and looked around the hallowed whit
e ornate walls. “Think of all the people who’ve performed here.”
She wasn’t going to be quiet. Clearly. Zack kept his eyes straight ahead and thought about her last statement. She had a point. They knew their song, and in most ways this audition was only a means to an end. William Gaines had told their group that morning they’d have to forget most of the words or fall off the stage to be sent home at this point. Zack and the others were pretty much through to the top forty. A troubling thought came to Zack. He hadn’t prayed about their upcoming performance since first thing this morning. The realization felt strangely foreign. He couldn’t be too busy to pray, couldn’t rush past this moment without taking it in, without thanking God for getting him this far. Lord, use me today . . . use our group. Let me shine for You. Thanks for letting me be here at all.
Zoey leaned in close to his arm. “What do you think of them?” She nodded to the stage. The group was mostly country singers, and the sound attempted to be something close to Lady Antebellum. It fell short, but Zack didn’t want to say so. “They’re all right.”
“I think we’re better.”
Zack shifted so there were a few inches between him and Zoey again. “No guarantees today. We’ll need to bring it.”
“You’re right.” Zoey leaned in again. “But you think we’re ready, right?”
Zack didn’t say a word. He looked at her and then at the stage again. He couldn’t make her be quiet. He scanned the front of the auditorium. Production assistants were everywhere, bringing meals and water, connecting contestants with instructors brought in for wardrobe expertise, vocal training, and movement design. Whatever that meant. All of them talked. The consensus seemed to be that Zack’s group was one of the strongest. The gospel singer from the first round back in the tent was one of their five. Each of them could sing.
Zack definitely believed his group was one of the best. Certainly better than the country singers onstage. He felt a surge of competitiveness mix with an ugly kind of pride. The sort he barely recognized in himself. The feeling didn’t sit well and Zack closed his eyes. What was wrong with him? If God allowed him to make it through to the next round it would be to glorify Him. Not because he had sized up his competition and decided he was a better singer or a stronger performer. He had to keep himself in check on so many levels.
He blinked his eyes open as one of the singers onstage forgot several seconds of the lyric. Zack felt for the guy. The next singer forgot words, too, and the youngest girl in the group began to cry midsong. Long before the country group finished, Cullen Caldwell waved them off. “Stop!” He stood and scowled at the five singers. “Are you blokes serious?” His Australian accent was sharper than usual. “You’re trying to make the top forty with that? You don’t even know the words.” Cullen wore all white as usual, this time with a fluorescent green knit cap. He motioned them off the stage once more. “Someone get the next group out here. The five of you are done. Go home!”
Just like that their time on Fifteen Minutes was finished. Theirs was the first group eliminated, even though according to show tradition, no group was officially eliminated until tomorrow, after everyone had competed. Zack pressed his back to the hard pew and winced at Cullen’s harsh tone. The singers hung their heads, all but one. A woman in her late twenties. “Please.” She walked to the edge of the stage, her eyes scanning the judges. “This is my last chance. I mean, I have two kids at home and this is my dream. Can we try it again? We didn’t even finish.”
“No.” Cullen was still standing. He pointed her off the stage. “You sounded like cats locked in a freezer.” He sat down and stared at his notes. “Next group!”
Zoey looked at Zack, her eyes wide. “Intense,” she mouthed. “Now I’m really scared.”
“Pray.”
“I don’t know how.”
Zack held his finger to his lips. If they got caught talking, they could be the next ones kicked out. Especially with the tension in the room.
Zoey pressed. “Let’s talk later, okay? I want to know how to pray. I need it. I’m so nervous.”
Zack nodded, more so she wouldn’t keep talking to him. Did she really want to learn how to pray? Was that what she hoped to talk about? Zack wanted to believe her. Maybe if he talked to her about God she would understand him better, how he was only here because of his faith in Christ, how that and his family and Reese were what kept him going.
The next group took the stage, this one full of hipsters singing a whiny folk song from the sixties. Zack watched, wondering what Cullen would say or if he’d let them finish. The trouble with Zoey’s flirting, the way he missed Reese, the conversation he’d had with his father last night—all of it weighed on him. The farm was in worse shape than any of them thought. It wasn’t just the mortgage that was behind. They owed back taxes, too. His father didn’t share many of the details, even when Zack pressed. But yesterday he could hear the despair in his father’s voice.
“Don’t worry about us. God has a plan,” he had told Zack. “You’ll stay as long as He wants you there.”
Zack had felt his emotions get the better of him as the call ended. “I love you, Dad. Tell Mom the same.” If it weren’t for the fact that he’d made it this far, he would’ve climbed in a cab, headed for LaGuardia and caught the next flight home. He couldn’t, though, because the Lord had allowed him to make it this far. He would see where the next round might take him.
The hipsters were allowed to finish, but watching Cullen mutter in Kelly Morgan’s direction told the rest of them that the group didn’t have long. They’d almost certainly be cut the next day. Zack and Zoey and their group filed to the side stage, and Zack motioned for them to hold hands. “Is it okay if we pray?” He looked at Zoey and the gospel singer and the other two. The group nodded, all of them clearly nervous. William Gaines and Samuel Meier had made it clear they weren’t to overtly involve faith in their time on the show. Zack didn’t care. If he didn’t pray now he might as well go home. Besides, they were in a room where they couldn’t be heard from the main stage and auditorium.
Zoey took his hand first, and the others followed suit. Zack didn’t hesitate. “Dear God, we know that Your purposes are greater than ours. Help us shine for You on that stage. Make it clear what Your plans are for us. In the name of Jesus, amen.”
A TV monitor showed a group of pop singers on the stage, one of the strongest of the day. Chandra Olson gave them a standing ovation, which made Cullen laugh out loud. “They were good, Chandra, not great. Save the standing O for perfection.”
Whether it was an act for ratings or Cullen was having a rough day, Zack wasn’t sure. But the judge’s harsh intensity made him question his earlier confidence about his own group number. Maybe they weren’t as ready as he thought. Either way their turn had come. Zack led the five of them onto the stage and tried not to notice the multiple layers of balconies in the storied auditorium. A set had been built at the base of the stage, a place for the judges. The remainder of the show would be filmed at Carnegie Hall, the first time Fifteen Minutes had been broadcast from here. The buzz was that ratings might be higher than ever.
As they took their places, Zack smiled and nodded at Kelly, then Chandra, and finally, Cullen.
“G’day, Zack. You look awfully happy.” Cullen gave Zack a smirk. He nodded in Zoey’s direction. “And look at you, Zoey girl. You look cheery, too. Something going on you wanna share with the viewers?”
Zack had hoped this wouldn’t come up, but he was ready. He chuckled, keeping his demeanor and tone easy. Beside him, he could feel Zoey blushing, shifting uncomfortably. “We’re a tight group.” Zack held out both arms and, as if on cue, the other four singers filled in around him. “We’re all happy, right?”
The others nodded. Definitely happy.
“Zoey, you look happier than everyone else.” Cullen raised his brow. “Doesn’t she look happy, Kelly? Chandra?”
Kelly laughed and shook her head, but Chandra gave Cullen a teasing shove on his shoulder. �
��Leave them alone.”
“Just saying . . . I think we’ve got ourselves a couple of lovebirds.” He shrugged, feigning innocence.
“Zoey and Zack.” Kelly grinned. “Has a good ring to it. Cutest couple we’ve seen on the show for sure.”
Chandra leveled her gaze at Zack. “You have a girlfriend, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. Her name’s Reese.”
“See!” She shoved Cullen again. “Leave them alone.”
“Play your cards right, Zack.” Kelly gave the two of them a sly smile. “Sometimes you have to let go of the old and grab on to something new.”
“Someone new,” Cullen added. He and Kelly shared another laugh.
Zack figured the comment had something to do with Kelly’s boyfriend hooking up with some South African singer. The story was all over the media.
But still . . . he wished the producers would quit assuming some kind of affair between him and Zoey.
Deep breath, Zack. You can do this. Clear my mind, God . . . Please, clear it.
“All right, enough.” Cullen waved his hand, his face still lit up in a grin. “What are you singing this afternoon?” He leaned his elbows on the table and studied the group. He looked more relaxed than he had all day.
Zack leaned in to the microphone. “ ‘I Can Only Imagine.’ The Wynonna Judd version.”
“Keeping it country, huh?” Cullen raised his brow. His expression said the group had a lot to prove.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, good on ya’ll, then.” Cullen crossed his arms, focused. “Give it a go.”
Zack took a step back and looked at his group. Then he cued the music and they began. The song was a hit from Christian group MercyMe, and it spoke of the first moments in heaven, the glory of meeting Jesus face-to-face. Wynonna’s version added folk flair and a fiddle, but the ballad soared just the same.
The lead vocal went to Zack. He watched the red light come to life on the camera just behind the judges’ table and he sang straight into the lens. As if he could see his parents and Grandpa Dan and AJ and Duke. As if Reese were sitting across from him, cheering him on.
Fifteen Minutes: A Novel Page 14
