Catwalk (16 page)

“Really?” She looks hopeful.

“Really.” I let out another yawn. “But now I need to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

“Yes, I can tell. I’m surprised Paige is still out. You girls had a long day and a long couple of weeks too. It felt like you were gone for months.”

I nod and then I hug Mom. “I don’t want you to be alone, Mom. And if you think Jon’s the guy—then I’m happy for you.”

As I go to bed, I think I really will be happy for her. Maybe not this very minute, but in time. Although I’m resistant to change, I eventually get with the program. Even those times when God has to give me a solid kick in the butt, I usually come along.

“Look at us,” Mom says as the three of us
stand in front of the mirror in Paige’s bedroom on Valentine’s Day. Paige has been playing stylist for Mom and me. And now all three of us are dressed and coiffed and ready for our dates.

Mom is wearing one of the outfits given to me when we visited the Dylan Marceau studio. It’s a strawberry red two-piece suit with tasteful faux-fur trim around the collar and cuffs. “That suit is so perfect for you,” I tell her. “You should just keep it.”

Paige has on the light blue Rhiannon dress, which looks magical and will be perfect for the ballet performance that she talked Benjamin into taking her to see tonight. Her hair is twisted into a loose updo with tendrils of hair curling down her neck, and she has on dangly crystal earrings. “You look like a fairy princess,” I tell her as she finishes up her makeup.

“And you look like a movie starlet from the old Hollywood glamour era,” she tells me. But then she holds up the tube of red lipstick again. “Only you still need this.”

“She’s right,” Mom tells me. “That dress is screaming for red lipstick.”

So I comply and when I look in the mirror, I know they’re probably right. I have on the same outfit I wore to the Dylan Marceau show and after party—the black and red Valentino. Valentino for Valentine’s Day. Makes sense to me. And yet it’s so not me. Or not the me I used to be. Even so, I must admit it’s pretty cool. Who doesn’t like to look glamorous some of the time?

I set up my camera to take some timed photos and we all strike poses and ham it up for several shots. “This is too fun,” Mom says. But then the doorbell rings and it turns out to be Jon.

He compliments all of us on our outfits, but his eyes are fixed on Mom. And he looks slightly nervous, which surprises me because he’s usually pretty cool and in control. But I think it’s sweet that he’s uneasy. Maybe he’s trying to win our approval.

“Have fun,” Paige calls out.

“And don’t stay out too late,” I tease.

Before long, Benjamin comes to pick up Paige. It’s nice to see his face light up when he sees her and I can tell he’s enchanted. “Have fun at the ballet,” I call out as they leave. Benjamin makes a face then grins. “At least I’ll be with the prettiest girl there.”

Finally, Blake comes to the door and his expression is all I need to know that my outfit is working too. “Wow,” he says as I reach for the red coat. “You look fantastic, Erin.”

“Overdressed?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“You’re sure I don’t need bowling shoes?”

He chuckles. “Well, that might be an interesting touch.”

“Either way you look great,” I tell him as I check out his suit. “This is kind of like prom, only better.”

“Much better,” he says.

“And Tony and Mollie are coming too?”

“Meeting us there.”

But when we get to the restaurant and are seated at our table set for four, Mollie and Tony are nowhere in sight. We wait for about ten minutes, and we can tell our waiter is getting antsy. So Blake calls Tony and asks what’s up. As Blake’s smile fades into a frown, I can guess. They’re not coming.

Blake closes his phone and shrugs. “Something came up.”

“Oh.” I try not to feel aggravated as the waiter clears away the now unnecessary place settings. “Why didn’t they call earlier?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we won’t let it ruin our evening, okay?” I force a smile for Blake’s sake.

His eyes brighten. “No, we won’t. In fact, I’m glad they didn’t come tonight. Now I can have you all to myself.”

So we end up having a very nice dinner—dinner for two. Afterward, we take in a movie, followed by ice cream. It’s past midnight by the time he walks me to my door. He gives me one sweet kiss on the lips, thanks me for going out with him, and politely leaves. And I’m thinking this guy is smart—he’s not pushing me, and just like reverse psychology it makes me want to take our relationship up a notch or two.

To my surprise, I’m the first one home. Not that I thought Paige would be home by now, but for some reason I thought Mom would be. I fully expected to come home and see her here—like that’s what a mom is supposed to do. But instead of obsessing over her absence, simply because she’s out with her boyfriend, I decide to get ready for bed. After all, Paige and I are grown up now. And Mom’s an adult…she can certainly stay out late if she likes.

But what if she doesn’t come home at all tonight? No, I’m not going to retreat into my old fear—that of losing both
parents. But what if she decided to spend the night at Jon’s? In fact, how would I feel if she and Jon have already been spending nights together? With Paige and me off in New York all that time, it might’ve happened. While it might be juvenile, I find this possibility disturbing. Yet people do it all the time.

Then I replay what Mom told me the other day about how she and Jon are getting more serious. What did that actually mean? What if they decided to live together? How would I react to that? It’s not easy being the only Christian in a family…having different standards, values, convictions.

It’s nearly one o’clock when I hear someone coming into the house. I tiptoe out to see that it’s Mom. And she’s alone. “You were out pretty late,” I tell her as I go into the kitchen where she’s pouring herself a glass of water.

“Oh, Erin.” She smiles happily at me. “You’ll never guess.”

“Guess?” I shake my head. “What do you mean?”

Then she holds out her hand where I see a fairly large solitaire diamond glittering in the kitchen light. “Jon proposed.”

“You’re kidding.” I just stare at the ring and try to wrap my head around this. Even though I’m unsure just how to feel, I wrap my arms around Mom and hug her. “Congratulations, Mom.”

“I’m so happy!”

“I can see that.”

“Is Paige home?”

“Not yet.”

Mom looks down at her ring and slowly shakes her head as if she’s still trying to take this in too. “I know it must seem like it all happened so quickly…”

“Yeah, it does seem kind of fast.”

“But when you know something’s right…and, well, Jon and I aren’t getting any younger.”

I laugh. “So that’s why he looked so nervous earlier tonight. He had this all planned out.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Mom sighs. “It was just perfect.”

As she’s telling me about where he took her and how he asked, Paige comes in and she has to start all over again. But it helps me to hear the story twice—I know it will take awhile before I can fully absorb what this means. Still, I do know that Jon is a great guy. And Mom is happy.

When I finally go to bed, I realize I
am
happy for Mom. How could I not be when she’s so over the moon? Oh, sure, it does seem a little fast, but then Mom seems so confident that this is right. Why should I doubt her?

Even so, I feel troubled as I try to go to sleep, but it’s not about Mom. Mollie has come to mind, and I decide that I’m going to pay her a visit tomorrow. Instead of calling and taking the chance she’ll ignore me, I will go directly to her house. Since it’s a Saturday she’ll probably be home.

As I’m driving to Mollie’s house on Saturday morning, I realize I need to adjust my attitude yet again. Instead of being angry at her, which I am, I need to be a friend to her. And to do this, I need to pray. I pray that God gives me the right words to say to her—not angry, judgmental words, but encouraging words. I want her to know how much I care about her…how much I love her. To do that, I’ll need God’s help.

When I get to her house, her mom looks surprised to see me. “Erin, it’s been awhile,” she says as she lets me in. “The only time I see you anymore is on TV.” She laughs like this is funny, but I can hear the jab in her tone and I suspect Mollie’s attitude is infectious. “Mollie’s still in bed,” she says in a tired voice, “but maybe you can wake her up.”

Of course, that’s easier said than done. After I nudge her a couple times, Mollie opens her eyes and looks at me, then groans and rolls over. I almost wonder if she’s been drinking. Is this a hangover?

“Come on, Mollie,” I urge. “Time to get up.”

“I’m tired.”

“Talk to me now and you can sleep later,” I persist. “Because I’m going to stay here and bug you until you get up.”

Finally she sits up in her bed and looks at me with angry eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you.”

She shrugs. “So talk.”

“Why did you and Tony bail on us last night?”

“We got in a fight.”

“Oh.” I nod. “I’m sorry. Are you guys okay?”

She nods back.

“But Mollie, I need to understand. Why are you treating me like I’m the enemy?” I ask. “Every time I call you, it seems like you either ignore my call, or you hang up, or you’re just grumpy. What did I do to—”

“Maybe this isn’t about
you
, Erin.”

“Huh?”

“Why do you assume that everything is about you?”

“Well, I’m talking about our friendship. I have something to do with it. But maybe we’re not friends anymore. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

She looks down at her lap.

“And it would make me sad, but I could handle it, Mollie. I guess I just want to know why. Did I do something to hurt your feel—”

“There you go again…assuming this is about you.”

Now I’m really frustrated. I mean, can she even hear herself? I take in a slow breath and try to keep from saying something harsh.

“No, Erin, you didn’t do anything to hurt my feelings. Not specifically anyway. But you did kind of leave me behind.”

“I left you behind?”

“We used to spend time together. Then you sort of abandoned me.”

“But it feels like you abandoned our friendship,” I reply. “I might’ve been busy with the show, but it’s like you gave up completely. I mean, I’ve been trying to keep in touch as much as I could.”

She looks at me with teary eyes now. And, for some reason, I suspect there’s something else going on here—something Mollie’s not telling me. But what?

“We grew apart, Erin. That’s all.”

“But I don’t see how—”

“Fine.” She grabs her pillow and clutches it to her stomach. “You want to know what’s really wrong? I’ll tell you.” But then she doesn’t say anything.

“What is it, Mollie?” I ask as gently as I can. “Talk to me.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Wow.
This feels like it came from out of nowhere and I wonder if I heard her right. “What?” I say quietly.

“I’m pregnant.” She looks evenly at me, waiting for me to say something.

I don’t know what to say—how to respond. I want to ask her how this happened, but I already know that answer. And yet I also know that Mollie, like me, had made a commitment not to have sex before marriage. But obviously something had changed. “What are you going to do?”

She’s running her hand over the pillow. “I’m going to have a baby.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m going to be a mommy.” But her voice is kind of flat and emotionless, as if she’s not really feeling this. Or maybe she doesn’t want to feel it. I’m just not sure.

“Oh.”

“I know you’re judging me, Erin.”

“I’m not.” I hold up my hands. “I’m just trying to grasp this. It’s kind of shocking, you know.”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy for me. I could’ve used a best friend.” She looks at me accusingly.

I consider this. For someone who could’ve used a best friend, she sure seemed to have been pushing me away. But I don’t say this. “When is the baby due?”

“Mid-August.” Her features soften a bit.

“Oh.”

“And, yes, Tony is the dad.”

“And he knows?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“How’s he dealing with it?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“On how he’s feeling at the time. Sometimes he says we should just get married and be parents and that everything will be fine.” She sighs.

“And other times?”

“Other times he thinks I should give the baby up for adoption.”

“And what do you think?”

“I want to keep the baby.” Her voice is full of determination now. “No matter what, I will keep the baby.”

“Have you told your parents?”

She shakes her head no.

And then I hug her and she begins to cry quietly. “I’m still your friend,” I assure her. “I
am
here for you. You’re going to get through this, Mollie.”

She wipes her tears on her pillow and nods.

“This isn’t how I wanted my life to go,” she says sadly.

“I know.”

“But I just have to make the best of it. I have to be strong. For the sake of the baby, I have to keep it together.”

“And you will.”

I end up spending the entire day with Mollie, and there are moments when we’re just doing normal things and I almost forget that she’s pregnant. It’s like we’re just our same old selves. And then it hits me.
Mollie is going to have a baby.
Her life is changing in a huge way and it will never be the same. And I feel sad, like I’m grieving something that’s being left behind. Maybe it’s just childhood. Still, at the same time, I feel hopeful. I think Mollie will be a good mother. But I know it won’t be easy, and I’m thankful I’m not in her shoes.

The next two weeks aren’t too busy for Paige
and me in regard to our show. We do a few fashion spots with a focus on swimsuits, beachwear, and vacation clothes. But mostly we’re enjoying some down time, recovering from the New York trip, and gearing up for the Oscars red carpet. I’m also trying to spend more time with Mollie. I even went to the OB GYN with her. That wasn’t exactly easy for me, and I felt irked that Tony was MIA right then. It’s hard to tell what’s going on with that boy, but Blake thinks he’s mostly just really confused. Actually, both Tony and Mollie are. It’s kind of like their lives—or their lives as they knew them—have been derailed.

Both Blake and I have been encouraging Mollie and Tony to plug themselves back into church. Mollie is getting more comfortable about being pregnant and finding that most of our friends are very understanding. And the ones who aren’t—well, who cares?

But during these not-so-busy weeks, I notice that Paige is falling into something of a pattern. And it’s got me worried.
She and Benjamin are going out a lot. I suspect it’s partly to be seen and photographed because they’re both publicity addicts. And it seems to make Helen Hudson happy each time Paige’s face appears in some gossip rag. At least it used to please Helen. Today she sounds a little concerned.

“Hey, Jiminy Cricket,” she says to me when she calls this morning. That’s her nickname for me because she says I play Paige’s “conscience,” which is actually pretty ridiculous if you think about it—it’s not like I can control Paige. “So how about that sister of yours?”

“What about her?” I ask.

“It looks like she and Benjamin have really been playing the club circuits lately. Do you think she’s getting out of control?”

“Out of control?” I consider this. “You mean like drinking and partying too much?”

“Basically.”

“I actually asked her about this last week,” I confess. “I mean, about whether or not she’s drinking. She assured me she’s not into that anymore.”

“What about Benjamin?”

“I didn’t ask about him.”

“Well, according to my sources, he’s starting to get carried away again. You know he had a binge drinking problem on
Malibu Beach
the previous season. He allegedly cleaned up his act, but to be honest, I’m not so sure about the boy.”

I want to ask her why she’s telling me all this, except that I know why. She expects me to keep a watchful eye on my sister.

“It’s not that I don’t trust Paige,” she says slowly. “But
On the Runway
is really starting to take off. The ratings are rising.
The sponsors are calling. And Paige is the main reason. That girl has the right stuff to make the show soar, Erin. In other words, I’m kind of like a mother hen here, and I have to protect my baby chicks, otherwise known as my assets.”

“And you want me to protect my sister?”

“Well, I was thinking…how about if you and your boyfriend went out with Benjamin and Paige? You kids would make a cute foursome and you could sort of keep an eye on things.”

“I don’t know if she and Benjamin will want us tagging along all the time.” What I’m not saying is that I don’t think Blake and I want to be stuck babysitting.

“Not all the time. Just some of the time. See what’s really going on and make sure that your sister is safe. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Jiminy. You’re really a great kid, you know that.”

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m great at taking care of Paige, right?”

“A lot of people don’t realize that stars need someone to ground them. It’s like the old kite metaphor.”

“The kite metaphor?”

“Yes. The star is like a kite—she needs to fly high and free, but she also needs someone on the ground holding onto the string.”

“And that would be me?”

“You’re a good kite flyer, Erin. And that’s not so bad, is it?”

“I guess not.”

So Blake and I end up inviting ourselves to meet up with Benjamin and Paige tonight. And although Blake was perfectly willing to hang with the stars—eager even—I feel guilty about keeping him out so late when he has classes in the morning.
Finally, we have to bow out, but I’m not feeling too worried because I could see that Paige wasn’t drinking. And, as far as I could tell, Benjamin wasn’t either.

“Do you think they were just on their best behavior because we were there?” Blake asks me as he’s walking me to the door.

“That occurred to me.”

“Does Helen Hudson really think you can control Paige?”

I laugh. “No. But I’m sure she’s hoping.” Then I thank him for coming along tonight, apologize for keeping him out so late, and we kiss and say good night. And although I’m still not sure it’s wise taking our relationship to the next level, it’s so nice. The butterflies are nice. Blake is just as attractive to me now as he was last year. Maybe even more so since we’ve both grown up a little. I just hope that I don’t end up being sorry. Maybe I won’t think about that.

Fortunately, the next few days are all about the Oscars and getting ready for the red carpet. This means that Paige has to try on a number of evening gowns and cocktail dresses, which we do with cameras running. Well, not running as she actually changes, but running as she models the different dresses by the various designers. It will be part of the show. It’s like she does her own little runway segment of trying on outfits—trying to decide which one is perfect. She eventually settles on the Dylan Marceau gown, which he designed specifically for her. And I’m not sure if it’s because she likes it the best—although I admit it looks awesome—or because she’s still feeling slightly attracted to Dylan. It’s a peacock blue satin in a slightly Asian style, fitted and classic with a long slit that reveals a fair amount of leg.

Despite Paige’s begging me to wear a gown too, I insist on playing my role as Camera Girl on the red carpet this time. It’s
quite a battle, but to my relief, and after I remind her of our initial agreement, Fran finally agrees. “It’s a nice contrast,” she assures Paige. “And it adds interest.”

When Oscar day comes, Paige and I head over to the Kodak Theater, where fans are already amassed and waiting. In contrast to when we did the Golden Globes, this time they seem to know who Paige is. They call out to her, whistling and cheering as she blows kisses and yells “thank you!” then bows. And, to my surprise, a few of them even call out to me.

We set up quickly, and it’s not long before the first Academy Awards attendees begin trickling in. It’s a little slow at first and, although Fran is there with the other pre-show producers, I feel worried that we’re just not well known enough to get the really good traffic.

Then things pick up and I’m surprised at how many bigname celebs begin to come our way. But I’m not surprised at how they actually seem to enjoy chatting with Paige once they get here. As usual, she’s in her element—the witty, charming young fashion expert. She smoothly transitions from one star to the next—from Amy Adams to Evan Rachel Wood. Even Mario Lopez stops by to say hi. And, really, it’s a lot of fun. And too soon, it’s over.

“Do you wish you could go inside?” I ask Paige as we’re removing our mics and getting ready to leave.

“Of course.” Then she smiles. “But Benjamin has invitations to some after parties and that will be almost as good.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Hey, maybe you and Blake could come along too.”

Then I remind her that I already invited Mollie and Tony and Blake to watch the Oscars at our house with Mom and Jon. “But thanks anyway. Maybe another time.”

By the time I get home, the Oscars are moving right along and Mom offers to reverse the show since it’s recorded, but I assure her that I’m okay and use my laptop to catch up.

“How did the red carpet go?” Blake asks me as we’re foraging for snacks during commercials.

“It seemed to go well,” I tell him. Then I share some of the big names that Paige got to interview.

“Someday you girls will probably be on the real pre-show with the network,” he tells me.

“I suppose that’s possible,” I admit. “I mean with Paige, who knows? But maybe I’ll have moved on to something else by then.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, like you’ll be sitting in the awards ceremony as a nominee for cinematography.”

“Wow, wouldn’t that be amazing.”

“It could happen.”

The Oscars are about halfway done when I notice that Tony and Mollie have disappeared. But about fifteen minutes later, Mollie comes back inside and it’s obvious that she’s been crying.

“What’s up?” I ask as I follow her to my room.

“We got in another fight,” she says as she flops onto my bed.

“Oh.”

“Tony took off. Sorry he’s being such a jerk.”

“That’s okay. I know he’s got a lot on his mind. You both do.”

“Maybe I can get a ride home with Blake.”

“Or just spend the night here if you want.”

She brightens. “Yeah. That’d be fun.”

After the Oscars end and everyone goes home and Mom heads for bed, Mollie and I decide to stay up and watch late-night TV and eat more junk food. Just like we used to do back
in high school. Then just as the
Tonight Show
is ending, there’s a breaking news report. I’m about to turn it off, but something makes me stop.

“This just in—an automobile accident involving actor Benjamin Kross occurred around midnight on Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Emergency crews have responded and one fatality is reported. Laurel Canyon Boulevard will remain closed until the investigation and clean-up is completed—”

I grab onto Mollie’s hand and our eyes lock. It feels like someone has just pulled out the earth from under me. “Paige,” I whisper. “Paige is with Benjamin.”

She just nods. I rush toward my mom’s bedroom, shaking her awake and telling her what we just heard on the news. For a moment, we all just stand there in Mom’s bedroom—too shocked to move. And then Mom is on the phone, talking to whoever’s at Channel Five and trying to gather the facts. But as she listens, I can see the color draining from her face. And then she hangs up and reaches for me, pulling me to her as she sobs. “The fatality was a woman,” she gasps. “She hasn’t been identified yet, but—”

And the three of us huddle together, sobbing and clinging to each other. I am aching in a way that is even harder and deeper than when my dad died. How is this possible? How could this happen again? Why didn’t I go with Paige when she asked me tonight? Why didn’t I do something to prevent this? I wish it were me, not Paige. How can this be?