Acting Up Page 9

  “What?”

  “You saved my life,” she said, reaching up to touch Addison’s cheek.

  Shock replaced confusion. “Me?”

  Her eyes were soft as a spring rain. “I lived an empty life for so many years, but you forced me out of a dark hole. Taught me how to love again. You can’t know the joy you brought into my life. No matter what awful circumstances brought you to my doorstep, I will always believe you were sent to me for a reason. Which is why I want you to forgive your mother. Because whether you want to trust in God or not, everything does happen for a reason, and someday you’re going to realize that.”

  Chapter Nine

  The entire production threatened to derail the second week of rehearsals.

  “We’ve got a problem, Addison.”

  Marjorie hurried over from the wings. Ethan was with her. Their troubled expressions raised Addison’s blood pressure.

  “What’s going on now?” she asked. “Has there been another round of parental mutiny?”

  Marjorie bit her lip as she tried to hold back tears. “It’s Michelle Cerillo.”

  “Is she all right?” Addison asked, instant alarm shooting through her. “Has something happened to her?”

  “Her parents have pulled her out of the production.”

  Addison’s heart dropped to her stomach. “What? Why? Because of me? I swear I’ll walk away if it means she stays in the play. I don’t mind vegging out in the back yard.”

  “It’s not you this time,” Ethan explained. “They didn’t even know Michelle was in the show. She didn’t tell them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Michelle’s parents are very traditional,” Marjorie said. “They’re also very strict and don’t approve of movies and theatre. They don’t even watch much television.”

  Addison tried to massage her instant headache away. “This is unbelievable.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lisa Turney and Nina Walters approach. Both girls were on the verge of tears.

  “What is it, ladies?” Addison asked. “Please don’t tell me your parents have made you drop out, too?”

  Nina shook her head, as a fat tear slid down her cheek. “No, but it’s our fault Michelle got in trouble. We found her playbook in her desk after history class. We thought she’d forgotten it.”

  “Michelle lives in my neighborhood, so I dropped it off at her house,” Lisa continued.

  “But we didn’t know her parents would flip out!” Nina cried.

  “Of course not.” Addison turned back to Ethan and Marjorie. “How could they make her quit? Don’t they know how important the show is to her?”

  “They’re trying to protect their daughter,” Ethan said.

  “What will you do without Michelle?” Lisa asked. “Will you have to recast her part?”

  Addison blew out an anxious breath. “I don’t know. I can’t see anyone else playing Ellie.”

  “We might have to think about it, though,” Marjorie said with a sigh. “Lisa could play Ellie, and one of the other girls would take over the part of Bree.”

  Addison held up a hand. “Wait. Before we start shuffling cast members around, has anyone tried talking to Michelle’s parents?”

  “I spoke to them on the phone when they called to tell me Michelle wouldn’t be in the play,” Ethan said.

  “Did you tell them being in the show would be good for their daughter?”

  “They were too upset to listen,” he said. “They were angry we’d allowed Michelle to audition without their permission in the first place.”

  “I need to talk to them.”

  “I’m not sure how much good it will do.”

  “I have to try. Will you take me to their house? At least if you’re with me, they won’t slam the door in my face.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go then.”

  ****

  Ethan led Addison to his SUV. Generations of ingrained Southern manners meant he had to open the passenger door for her. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, depending one’s point of view, the gesture meant she had to brush against him to get into the car. The brief touch had him clenching his teeth at the sudden rush of sensation.

  After two years of walking around in a zombie-like haze, every nerve ending seemed to have come roaring back to life. At least when he was around Addison. Even if he still wasn’t sure he was ready for full on living yet. Or why someone like her should be the one to light his fuse.

  Addison paused, as if startled by contact. Their eyes met. For a moment it didn’t seem to matter that she was a celebrity and he was a nobody. That the very idea of something happening between them was ridiculous. He stepped back and walked around to the driver’s seat, telling himself to get it under control.

  Addison would never become involved with someone like him. Sure, she might flirt with him. She probably couldn’t help trying to charm every man she came across. But she would never have a serious relationship with a small town guy who probably got paid less in a year than she did for one episode of her TV show.

  He climbed into his seat, determined to ignore whatever long-dormant instincts she stirred up. Addison grabbed the hand brace and hauled herself up. She winced and reached underneath her, coming up with a plastic action figure. She turned to toss the toy in the backseat, and her eyes widened as she took in more evidence of two active little boys. Hockey sticks, a football, and a variety of other action figures. Ethan was pretty sure several fast food bags were back there, too.

  “Sorry about all the junk,” Ethan said with a grimace as they left the parking lot. “I keep meaning to have them clean up, but we always seem to be running late.”

  “I’m sure raising the boys on your own is hard.”

  Ethan sighed. “You have no idea.”

  As they drove, Addison kept her face turned away. With spring approaching, the trees had begun to sport a growth of leaves and colorful blossoms. Addison rested her chin in her hand and inhaled deeply.

  “It’s so beautiful here this time of year,” she said.

  Ethan hit the button to lower her window, and she turned to him in surprise.

  “I thought you might enjoy an unobstructed view,” he said.

  Her eyes widened, and she continued to stare at him.

  “Unless you don’t want to mess up your hair,” he said, wondering if he’d read her wrong. How could he begin to understand someone who could go from sincerity to outright manipulation at the turn of a dime?

  “I spent too many years with perfect hair to mind a little muss now.”

  “My kind of girl.”

  Except Jenny had been his kind of girl. She’d been soft and sweet and true. She’d stuck with him even after their whole world changed course following his injury.

  “I understand your wife was a teacher,” Addison said, breaking through his reverie.

  He started, wondering if Addison had somehow climbed inside his head to read his thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do right now was discuss his wife with the woman who was beginning to take up space in his mind. Except maybe talking about Jenny would help keep thoughts of Addison at bay. Remind him of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be thinking about Addison at all.

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “She was,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Did you meet at school?”

  He shook his head. “It was school, but not as teachers. We started dating in tenth grade.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Tenth grade? Wait… you married the only person you ever dated?”

  “Shocking but true,” he said.

  “And you haven’t dated anyone since—”

  “No. How many men did you date before you got married?” he asked and then could have kicked himself. He did not need to know her romantic history. To know how many men he could potentially be compared to as she studied him.

  To his surprise, color rose in her cheeks. “More than one,” she muttered. “You never felt like you should go o
ut with other people?”

  They stopped at a light. “Jenny was all I ever wanted,” he said, reminding himself as much as informing Addison.

  Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes, as he drove through town and then turned down a residential street. Ethan parked in front of a sturdy, brick two-story house.

  Addison started to open the door, but he reached over and grabbed her hand. “Why are you so determined to keep Michelle in the musical anyway?”

  “Ethan, if you could have seen her audition you’d understand. Michelle is scared of her own shadow, but when she goes on stage, she becomes another person. She reminds me of myself. Acting was my salvation.”

  Something about her admission struck him as sad. Didn’t she know true fulfillment only came from one source? “Putting your faith in something you can get on a stage is hardly the argument Michelle’s parents will buy. Especially considering—”

  “The mess I’ve made of my life?” she asked, accusation in her tone.

  “No, I was going to say, considering you learned the hard way that an acting career doesn’t guarantee happiness. Putting your faith in anything of this world doesn’t work.”

  “I’m not saying Michelle should run off to Broadway,” Addison said in exasperation. “I think she could benefit from learning to believe in herself, and I think it would be a tragedy if she’s made to feel ashamed of her voice. There’s nothing wrong with expressing yourself through music, drama, or dance.”

  Ethan scanned her face, searching for the truth behind what she’d said. Addison was so good with words. She used them the way a fencer did a sword, and half the time he wasn’t sure if he could believe anything she said.

  “All right. Let’s go,” he said, even as he continued to wrestle with his conscience over this mission. He couldn’t help but wonder if Michelle wouldn’t be better off safe at home with her parents. Look at what had happened to Addison. What she had become. Where was the girl she’d once been? Where was Alice Jones beneath all the glitz and glamor?

  They walked up the drive and rang the bell. A heavy-set woman in her mid-forties answered the door. She eyed them with wariness. “Principal Thomas? Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to talk about Michelle,” he said.

  Her frown deepened. “There’s nothing left to talk about. We’ve made our decision. Our daughter is not going to be dancing around on a stage.”

  Apparently impatient with his progress, Addison sidled around him. “Mrs. Cerillo, have you read the play?”

  “Who are you?” she asked with obvious mistrust.

  “I’m Addison Covington, the director of the musical.”

  “The actress.”

  Mrs. Cerillo spat the word as if Satan himself had showed up at the door. Addison didn’t flinch. “Yes, I am. Right now I’m concerned about Michelle, though. Have you heard her sing?”

  “Of course we have. In church.”

  “By herself?”

  Mrs. Cerillo pursed her lips. “No.”

  “You should. I think you’d be amazed, like I was the first time I heard her, which is why I cast her as the lead.”

  Mrs. Cerillo remained unmoved.

  Addison glanced at him and he shook his head, gesturing that they should leave. Mrs. Cerillo would not be won over by flattery like Lisa Turney’s mother.

  Addison shot him a disgusted look and tried again. “Ma’am, do you know the story of My Fair Lady?”

  “No.”

  “What about Pygmalion?”

  “Yes,” she admitted with some reluctance. “The sculptor falls in love with a statue he’s creating.”

  “Right. My Fair Lady is a musical adaptation. A London professor transforms a Cockney girl into a beautiful, well-spoken lady. Our musical is similar, only set in a high school.”

  “Why isn’t the girl good enough as she is?” Mrs. Cerillo shot back. “God doesn’t love us based on our appearance. Your musical is all about finding acceptance only when she changes to suit what others think she should be. That’s not what I want to teach my daughter.”

  Ethan couldn’t help but agree with her. He had no idea where Addison was going with this.

  “I agree with you, and that’s the ultimate lesson of the play,” Addison said. “In the end, the people around Ellie are transformed. Not because she’s pretty, but because of her goodness. I think people will feel the same way about Michelle. They will see her inner beauty through her voice, and they will love her. She’ll touch so many people, which is the power of music. It affects people in a way no other form of communication can.”

  Mrs. Cerillo seemed doubtful. “You think Michelle has that power?”

  “She does. Doesn’t the Bible say we’re all blessed with gifts from God? What if Michelle’s gift is her voice? What if she’s supposed to use her talent for a higher purpose?”

  Ethan shifted. Of all the arguments she could have used, using Christ was the most surprising. Her own faith seemed tenuous at best. Could she in good conscience say God wanted Michelle to be in a school play?

  Mrs. Cerillo softened. “I don’t want Michelle involved in your world.”

  “I understand your concern, but Michelle isn’t going to be alone. She has two parents who will protect and love her no matter what. I don’t know what Michelle’s future will bring. She may pursue music or simply sing for her own enjoyment, but you shouldn’t deny her this chance to grow. As a person, as your daughter, and as a woman. She deserves a chance to prove she’s more than the shy girl.”

  “You believe in her, don’t you?” Mrs. Cerillo asked with a touch of wonder.

  Addison put on a good show of believing anyway, Ethan thought.

  “Of course I do,” she said without hesitation.

  “I thought directing the show was some sort of publicity stunt.”

  Ethan nearly choked and covered by faking a cough. He couldn’t say for sure Addison hadn’t agreed to become involved for exactly that reason.

  She glared at him.

  “It broke my heart to tell Michelle she had to drop out,” Mrs. Cerillo said. “You’ll look out for her, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Mrs. Cerillo nodded. “Okay. We’ll let her come back.”

  Addison surged forward, as if she wanted to hug the other woman, but somehow restrained herself. Instead, she grabbed Mrs. Cerillo’s hand. “You won’t be sorry. Wait until you see her.”

  “We’ll be looking forward to it.”

  The door closed, and Addison turned to Ethan with a smile. “I’m getting pretty good at the talking-to-parents thing.”

  “Almost too good,” he said, as they headed to his car.

  She stopped her in her tracks. “What’s your problem?”

  He turned back. “It’s one thing to work over the Turneys, but Michelle’s parents are another matter,” he said, guilt eating at him over unleashing Addison’s special brand of charm on someone as unsuspecting as Mrs. Cerillo.

  “I wasn’t working over anyone.”

  “So, Mrs. Cerillo was wrong? This isn’t part of some publicity scheme you’ve cooked up to make yourself look good for your Hollywood friends?”

  Addison didn’t deny the accusation. The color running up her cheeks spoke louder than words, though. “It wasn’t my idea to direct the play, remember?”

  “No, it was my mother’s.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Hey, I’m doing you a favor.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart, right?”

  She opened her mouth, clearly ready to protest, than stopped herself. Ethan knew the truth then. She couldn’t come up with a defense because there was none. His heart twisted, knowing Addison could be so calculating. He’d hoped he was wrong about her. Hoped there was more behind those gorgeous blue eyes.

  Proving even he could be a fool where Addison Covington was concerned.

  “Come on,” he said, needing to put some distance between them. “Let’s get back to school so you can
let everyone know about your successful mission.”

  “You’d better watch yourself, Mr. Thomas,” Addison said, clenching her fists. “I have a tendency toward violence, you know.”

  “Isn’t that how you got into this mess in the first place?”

  She jerked, almost as if he’d struck her. “No, actually. I got into this mess because my husband stopped loving me,” she said, her voice hollow and without any emotion whatsoever.

  The light had gone out in her eyes. Because of him. Ethan sucked in a breath, shame slamming into him like a sucker punch to the gut. “Addison, I—”

  “Let’s just go,” she said, holding up a hand. “Like you said, there’s a whole cast waiting for me, probably wondering if there’s even going to be a show. Unless you don’t want me to go back at all? It’s not too late to tell them I’ve changed my mind about being involved in this insane endeavor.”