by Clay, Verna
She interrupted. "Jason, you don't have to explain. Believe me, I understand." She turned her hands over and squeezed his. Then she suddenly stood. "It's only a matter of time until the paparazzi show up. They'll make a big deal because of my divorce, and yours, too. They'll try to convince the public we knew each other before our divorces. They'll fabricate ridiculous stories. I should have seen this coming." Her attempt to smile fell flat and she finished with, "But the good news is you'll only have to endure the limelight for a short time because I'm returning to Nashville."
"Sunny, I don't want you to do that."
"No, Jason. This is the best solution. If I don't go you'll have rag journalists following your every move. But if I'm not around they'll eventually go in search of bigger stories."
He started to protest again.
"Jason, I have to do this for another reason. My feelings for you are so deep that…" she inhaled, "that it would break my heart to be so near to you."
Her gaze held his for a moment that stretched into eternity. Then she looked away and said, "I have to go."
In her car Sunny reached for her cell phone. She speed dialed her attorney's private number and he answered on the first ring.
"Sunny, where have you been? Why haven't you returned my calls? You need to know–"
"I've already seen the tabloid and I've made the decision to return to Nashville and get back to work."
"But I thought you were loving your time in Arizona. Maybe you and Jason could go on vacation until–"
"I won't subject Jason to the paparazzi. I've made up my mind, Adam, so don't try to change it."
"All right, Sunny. I'm on page with whatever you want to do."
29: Life Resumed
"Ms. Sundance, you have five minutes until show time," said Sunny's aide.
"Thanks, Robby." Sunny glanced around her dressing room at the hustle and bustle. Her makeup artist was just finishing a last minute touchup on Sunny's blush and her manager was going over song changes with her drummer. Her PR person was talking on his cell phone.
Speaking above the chaos, she said, "Excuse me, everyone. I need a minute alone?" The room became silent.
"Of course, honey," said Billy. He pointed toward the door. "Okay, you heard the boss. Let's clear out."
Billy was the last to leave. He gently closed the door, winking before it was shut. She winked back. It was a tradition they'd begun years ago at her first concert.
As soon as she was alone she hung her head. She should be elated about the success of her comeback, but all she wanted to do was cry. Her usual zest seemed forever gone. Oh, she gave a good performance, the reviews were testimony to that, but being perfectly honest with herself, she knew she hadn't been ready to continue her career. In an attempt to overcome her grief about Jason, she'd jumped headlong into a grueling schedule. Tonight was the last concert in her three-concert, Back in the Sunshine, tour.
She lifted her head and studied her reflection. She muttered, "You're over forty, honey, so stop trying to look twenty." Then her mind traveled to where it spent most of its time—wondering about Jason. How was he doing? Was his business thriving? Did he ever visit the cabin? Did he ever think about her?
It had been four months since she'd left Arizona. And just as she had predicted, the tabloids had followed her. There had been a scattering of articles about her and Jason, but soon they'd forgotten his existence and concentrated only on her, pairing her off with some Hollywood actor she had never met.
Smiling sadly at her reflection she remembered her goodbye to Angelica on her way out of town the day after her "talk" with Jason. The lovely lady had been planting flowers alongside the walkway to the office. Her friend had smiled widely and waved. When Sunny stepped out of her car, Angelica said, "I hope you don't mind if I don't stand up. At my age, getting up and down is sometimes troublesome."
Sunny knelt beside her. "I don't mind at all."
Angelica said, "You seem a little sad. Why don't you help me plant these flowers? Flowers have a way of lifting burdens."
Sunny said, "Not this time. I'm on my way out of town; headed back to Nashville."
Angelica's eyes rounded. "But you've been very happy here. I thought you were going to stay at least through fall."
"Things change. People change…" her voice trailed.
"Do you mean Jason, dear?"
Sunny nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Someone informed the tabloids about us and they wrote some terrible things. I've got to leave so they'll take him off their radar."
Angelica wiped a hand on her skirt and then lifted it to Sunny. "Help me up, dear."
"Angelica, you don't have to stop what you're doing. I just wanted to come by and say goodbye."
The dear lady kept her hand lifted. Sunny reached and helped her to her feet.
Angelica said, "You're not going anywhere until we give each other a hug."
The women embraced and the lump in Sunny's throat got bigger. Sunny said, "I know we're not related, but you're the closest I've felt to family since my mother died."
Angelica tightened her hug. "Dearest, as dark as the future seems right now, sometimes the worst happenings create the happiest endings. I promise there is light at the end. And remember, I've been blessed with incredible intuition."
A loud knock on the dressing room door brought Sunny back into the moment.
"One minute 'til showtime, Ms. Sundance," called Robby.
Straightening her shoulders, Sunny closed her eyes, psyched herself into her stage persona, and said, "I'm on my way!"
Just as the other concerts had been a huge success, so was this one in Fort Worth, with fans shouting for an encore. After the final song, Sunny rushed offstage and into the crush of her crew and their congratulations. The giddiness of a good performance soon waned and she sought the privacy of her dressing room. Collapsing onto a chair she sighed and closed her eyes, wondering if she wanted to continue her career.
A tap on her door interrupted her thoughts and she opened her eyes just as her manager popped his head inside. "Hey, chickadee, you did it again! Another incredible concert!"
"Thanks, Billy. Let's get the interview over so I can crash at my hotel. I'm exhausted."
"Hey, are you feeling okay? Do you want me to send the reporters on their way? Reschedule?"
"No. I'm fine. Let's just get this done."
Sunny saw Billy's look of concern and tried to alleviate his worry by jumping up and hugging him. "Stop being such a worrywart. Let's go wow the press."
At least a dozen reporters stood behind a rope that kept them on one side of the interview room as Sunny fielded questions.
"Sunny, great concert tonight! I hear you have a new song about to be released. Can you tell us about it?" asked a reporter she had come to know over the years.
She responded, "Yes, Peter, there is a new song titled Song of –"
She was interrupted by a reporter unknown to her. "What do you think about Jason Grant's car accident?"
Every thought about her song was forgotten as Sunny focused on the journalist. "What accident?"
"Mr. Grant was in a collision yesterday and it appears his life hangs in the balance."
Sunny's jaw dropped and she was speechless. Her manager suddenly stepped in front of her. "This interview is over, folks. Obviously, the news about Sunny's friend has upset her. Please don't add to her distress by writing something that belongs in a tabloid."
The reporters, most of whom had been covering Sunny's career for years, called out their intent to support her privacy.
Sunny whispered in Billy's ear. "Bring that reporter to my dressing room."
"Are you sure? It could fuel the tabloids. You know this is going to get out, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
Billy studied her face. "I'll have him there in a couple of minutes."
30: Hiding
As soon as Sunny was back in her dressing room she grabbed her cell phone and started a search of
the internet for anything having to do with Jason and a car accident. She couldn't find anything. A coded knock on her door signaled that Billy was outside. She rushed to open the door.
Her manager entered with the reporter and said, "Sunny, this is Miguel Cardoso with the Dallas Daily."
Sunny nodded and got right to the point. "What do you know about a car accident involving Jason Grant? I can't find anything on the internet?"
Mr. Cardoso said politely, "I know about the accident because I got a call from an anonymous woman cluing me in. She said she hadn't been able to reach you by phone, so she called me. She said she was too far away to make your concert so I should get a backstage pass and tell you. She said she contacted me because she enjoys my weekly music column and thinks I'm an honest reporter. I told her I would check out her information. I made a few phone calls and discovered her information was accurate. I then called one of my connections, got a pass to report on your concert, and…" he shrugged, "here I am. I will add, however, that your security is tight and I couldn't get to you personally. The woman who called insisted it was urgent that you know about Mr. Grant. I'm sorry it was done publicly, but I am a reporter and I'm hoping for an exclusive."
Sunny said, "Thank you, Mr. Cardozo. I appreciate your honesty." She motioned toward her manager. "Will you please get the ball rolling and charter a jet."
Billy didn't question her order. "I'm on it, Sunny."
Three hours later Sunny was on a Lear en route to Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix. The only information she knew for sure was that Jason's car had been sideswiped by the driver of a big rig who'd lost control on Interstate 17 near the turnoff to Sedona.
Sunny leaned her head against her headrest and closed her eyes. Tears burned and she gulped back a sob. Please, God, don't let him die.
It was nearly dawn when Sunny and Billy hurried from the Lear to a waiting car. Billy had called a friend to pick them up. As they exited the airport, she ducked down just in case paparazzi was watching for her. They escaped unnoticed; however, arrival at the hospital became a different matter. According to internet coverage on Billy's phone, the trolls had already started planting themselves near entrances.
Billy said, "Sunny, here's the plan. The hospital authorities have been alerted to your arrival. But because you're not family, they've asked that you not come. I told them it wasn't an option, so they said you need to enter through Emergency. I gave them the make, model, and license number of this car. They said a guard would usher us inside."
Sunny puffed a breath. "Thanks, Billy." She glanced at the driver. "What about Dusty?"
Dusty interjected, "Don't you worry about me, ma'am. I've handled paparazzi before and know this city like the back of my hand. Before they can blink, I'll have vanished."
Sunny reached her hand to touch Dusty's shoulder. "Thank you. I won't forget this."
He glanced in his rearview mirror and smiled. "Driving my favorite singer to her destination is payment in full."
Billy said, "We're almost there, Sunny. You better lay low so no one can see you."
Sunny hunched down. Several minutes later, after listening to Billy and Dusty breathe curses at the tabloid journalists, the car careened to a stop. Billy jumped out and jerked Sunny's door open. Placing his arm around her shoulders, he and a security guard rushed her inside.
"This way," said the guard.
One of two interior double doors was buzzed open and they rushed down a hallway to a flight of stairs. Racing up one flight, they exited near an elevator. Their guard, who had been in constant contact with someone via cell phone, now waved them into the elevator where another guard held the door open. The first guard said, "My name is Todd and this is Prudence. She'll take you to the hospital administrator."
31: Mystery Woman
The elevator ascended and Prudence said, "There's a conference room on the fifth floor that Mrs. Wakefield is using to meet with you." She paused and her stern countenance broke into a smile. "This is the most excitement we've had in years."
Neither Sunny nor Billy responded. The elevator stopped and the female guard became serious again. "Please, follow me."
Several people whom Sunny assumed were employees because of their nametags suddenly appeared in the empty hallway watching them. Inwardly, she sighed. For twenty years she had been a curiosity, and frankly, it was getting old.
Prudence paused and knocked on a door halfway down the hallway. It was opened by a plump, middle-aged woman wearing a navy blue pantsuit. She didn't look happy. In a crisp tone she said, "Come in, please."
As soon as Sunny entered she met the gaze of a woman across the room—a very pregnant Suzette. Both women rushed toward each other.
Suzette's eyes were red from crying. She said, "Sunny, I tried calling your record company but it was after hours and I couldn't reach anyone. When I called the arena where you were performing, they just gave me the run around. I guess they thought I was a crank. I–"
Sunny interrupted Suzette's tirade. "Please tell me what happened. What is Jason's condition?"
"I'm not sure. All I know is that his car was hit by a truck and they airlifted him here."
The administrator had stepped beside the women and now she said, "Since neither of you are related to Mr. Grant, I'm not at liberty to divulge any information."
Suzette lashed out. "I'm his ex-wife and Sunny is his ladylove. And besides that, Sunny has enough money and attorneys to sue the ass off this hospital. We demand to know–"
Mrs. Wakefield straightened her shoulders and replied caustically, "I am not intimidated by threats. And I will do whatever is necessary to keep this hospital from becoming a three-ring circus. There are protocols–"
Now Sunny interrupted. "Mrs. Wakefield I want to thank you for everything you've done and apologize for the paparazzi being here. Believe me, if I could live a life free of them, it would be a dream come true. And I completely understand there are rules to be followed. I would never ask you to break them. All I ask is to be allowed to wait somewhere until I know Jason is going to be okay."
Mrs. Wakefield glanced between Sunny's beseeching expression and Suzette's belligerent one. The creases in her brow softened when she addressed Sunny. "What I will tell you is that Mr. Grant's condition was stabilized enough for him to be moved from emergency into ICU."
Tears welled in Sunny's eyes. "Thank you," she choked.
The administrator's face softened even more and she said, "For the time being you can remain in this room."
Sunny nodded because any sound would have been a sob.
Billy said softly, "Sunny, I've got to make some calls and also think about a press release. Is there anything specific you want me to say or do?"
She shook her head. "No. I know you've got everything handled."
Mrs. Wakefield started to leave, but paused. "I'll have my assistant bring you some refreshments. I'll also check with the doctor to see if there's an update on Mr. Grant's condition that can be released."
Sunny replied, "Again, thank you."
The administrator moved her gaze from Sunny to Suzette and her expression hardened. "Why don't you all have a seat while I navigate this three-ring circus?"
After the door closed behind Mrs. Wakefield, Sunny collapsed into a chair and placed her elbows on the table, dropping her head in her hands.
Suzette said, "That woman is a witch. I don't know why they can't release information since Jason still had my contact info in his wallet." She reached to touch Sunny's shoulder. "I called him a few weeks ago to see if you and he had hooked up, but he said you'd returned to Nashville and I should mind my own business. I told him he was an ass. He agreed with me and then asked how I was doing. I told him I couldn't fit into any of my clothes and I was stuck wearing tent blouses and pants with elastic waists. Then I told him I was happier than I had ever been living with my artist in his postage stamp studio."
Sunny lifted her head and met Suzette's gaze. She couldn't help but smile.
Su
zette said, "See, my inane babbling got you to smile."
Sunny replied, "You do tend to babble."
Suzette laughed. "That's one of the things my soon-to-be husband says he loves about me. Jason always hated it."
Sunny inhaled slowly to keep from crying. She placed her hand over Suzette's. "Thank you for letting me know about the accident."
Suzette sniffed and said, "Now we wait."
Over the next hour Sunny and Suzette talked about Jason, each revealing precious memories. Neither bared intimate details, but they did laugh about his quirks and sighed over his innate goodness. Billy returned once and said a couple of reporters had gotten into an altercation and been hauled off to jail. He grinned and then left again.
Sunny was opening a bottle of water when there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Wakefield entered without waiting for a response. She was accompanied by a man in a white coat, obviously a doctor.
Sunny and Suzette jumped to their feet.
Mrs. Wakefield said, "Ladies, I'd like you to meet Dr. Ching. He's our chief of staff and is personally overseeing Mr. Grant's condition." She motioned toward Sunny. "Dr. Ching this is Sunny Sundance," she then glanced at Suzette with obvious irritation, "and Mrs. Grant, the ex-wife of our patient."
Suzette started to say something, but Sunny quickly intervened. "I'm pleased to meet you Dr. Ching. Can you tell us anything about Mr. Grant's condition?"
Dr. Ching, a short and robust Asian man, smiled warmly at both Sunny and Suzette and said with a slight accent, "His condition is stable but serious. He's in a coma. We had to insert a brain shunt to reduce the pressure, and frankly, he may be in a coma for some time. He also suffered a broken ankle that required pins." He pursed his lips before continuing, "There may be brain damage. He's not responding to stimuli to his extremities." He kept his gaze on Sunny. "I'm sorry."
Suzette offered support by placing an arm around Sunny's shoulders. Sunny cleared her throat. "I know I'm not family, but would it be possible for me to see him?" Her voice cracked and she gulped back a sob.
