BOOK ONE: DECEPTIONS
Chapters One to Twenty Six
Vignettes 1 - 140

BOOK TWO: YESTERDAY ECHOES
Chapters 27 to
Vignettes 141 -

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Chapter 44: America Alive

Vonnie had her cat draped over one arm and her “Hello Kitty” purse draped over the other. “Now Percy, we’re going over to Uncle Ian’s house. Granny and Poppy are having some kind of TV show here and for some reason they only want humans around. You can spend the day with your sister. She’s calmed down now that Uncle Ian’s home so you should be fine.”

She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”

“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.

“Uh oh.” Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.

“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.

“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”

“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”

“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.

“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”

“I don’t know.”

“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.

“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.

“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”

“Is there a problem, Inez?”

The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl just a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”

Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”

“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”

Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.

“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”

“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”

“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”

“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”

“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”

The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.

“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”

“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.

“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.

“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”

“What’s she saying?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”

“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”

“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”

“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”

Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”

“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.

“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.

She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”

“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”

“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”

“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”

Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”

The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.

“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.

“What?” He said as he spun around.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”

“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”

Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”

“Do twins run in your family?”

“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”

“You do it then.” She snarled.

“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.

“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”

Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”

“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”

“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”

Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”

“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”

“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”

“What?”

“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”

“And the other two?”

“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”

“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.

Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”

She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”

“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”

“You got it.”

Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.

“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.

“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.

“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.

“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.

Percy was happily longing on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”

Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.

She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”

Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the newfound treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”

Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”

She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”



Ronnie grabbed her hand. “Come one he’s over there!” He pointed and practically dragged Miss Glo and her wheel chair in that direction.

Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded him of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.

She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.

Ian saw them approaching and lit up.

“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.

“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.

“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.

“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.

Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.

“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”

Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”

“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”

“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”

“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.

“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.

“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”

“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”

“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.

“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”

Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”

The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”

Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”

Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.

“Miss Glo?”

She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”

“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”

Ian kissed his fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.

“Justyn…fucking NOW!”

“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.

Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”

“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”

“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”

“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”

“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.

“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”

“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.

Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”

“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”

“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”

“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.

“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”

Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”

“Huh?” she said

The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”

More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”

The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.

“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”

Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in, he knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”

“No mic…” He said.

She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”

“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.

Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”

“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”

“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”

“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.

The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”

Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”

“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.

“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.

Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”

“Or hot…” Tippy added.

It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.

“And we’re back.”

Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”

“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.

Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”

“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.

“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”

“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.

Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”

“And clear…”

Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”

“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”

As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.

“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”

“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.

“Tippy you’ve done this before...”

“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”

“Tippy, you’ve….”

“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.

“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”

She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”

“And we’re back!”

“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”

Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”

“You’re no fun!”

“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”

“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.

Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”

“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.

“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”

“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”

“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”

“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”

“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”

“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”

It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.

Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.

At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had impressed him with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”

She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.

Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.

The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.

When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.

By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.



David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.

Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.

“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.

Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.

Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.

He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.

Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.

“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.

Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt the sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…

…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.

There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.

It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.

Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.

And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.

“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.

He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”

David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”

Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”

They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.

“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”

“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”

“What to do with her?” Turner asked.

“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.

Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”

“What?”

“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”

“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.

Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”

“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”

“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”

Elysian pointed. “There she is.”

“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.

“On the bandstand.”

“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.

“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”

“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.

“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”

“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”

She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band as was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.

Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.

She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.

But the stage had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.

“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.

She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.

When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”

It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.

It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.

Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.

They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.

David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.

“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”

Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.

Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”

“What?” Her husband whispered.

“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”

She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.

“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.

“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”

“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”

“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.

“Sing something else.” The piano man said.

“Me?”

“Of course you.”

“Alright. What should I sing?”

“Anything you want.” He said.

She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”

“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.

She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”

The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”

“I should. I wrote it.”

“Okay.” She said.

There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.

When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.

They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.

“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.

“My name is…”

He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”

They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.

She remembered.

“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”

And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.

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