Catwalk (17 page)

“What’s going on?”

I turn to see Paige coming into Mom’s room. And, for a moment, I think I’m delusional. “
Paige?
” I cry. Then we all rush at her and hug her and look at her and then cry some more.

“You’re okay!” I say finally. “You’re alive!”

“Of course I’m alive. What’s this about anyway?”

“Oh, Paige,” Mom sobs. “We were so frightened.”

“What is it?” Paige demands. “What’s happened?”

Now we step back and I turn to Mom, hoping she can explain.

“There’s been a car wreck,” Mom says soberly.

“A car wreck?” Paige looks confused. “Who?”

“Benjamin.”

Paige’s hand flies to her mouth. “Benjamin? Is he okay?”

“I’m not sure. There was one fatality…a woman…we assumed it was you.”

“You were supposed to be with him,” I remind her. “We really thought it was you.”

Paige sinks to the chair by Mom’s bed, cradling her head in her hands.

“Why weren’t you with him?” Mom asks.

Paige looks up with tear-filled eyes. “Ben was drinking and he wanted to go to another party. But I wanted to come home. And I wanted to drive. We argued and he walked out on me. I called for a cab, which took forever, and now—now this?”

“I wonder who was with him,” I say, and then regret it.

“A woman?” Paige just shakes her head. “Who knows who it could be?” She reaches for her phone, but then freezes and just stares blankly at it. “I don’t even know who to call. How can I find out how he is, Mom?”

“Let me handle this,” Mom says. Then she’s on the phone again. She gets the name of the hospital, and offers to drive Paige there.

“You can go too if you want,” Mollie tells me.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I think they can handle this without me.”

“Want us to call and let you know?” Mom asks as they’re leaving.

“Yeah—thanks. I’m pretty certain I won’t be sleeping anyway.”

So Mollie and I remain behind, and we decide to pray. We pray for Benjamin and for the family of whoever was riding with him tonight. And, although I’m exceedingly thankful it wasn’t my sister, I can’t help but feel connected to this woman too. Eventually Mollie goes to sleep, but I continue to pace and pray, asking God to have mercy on Benjamin.

The ringing of the phone makes me jump, jerking me back to reality. It’s now nearly four in the morning, and Mom’s voice is on the other end. “Benjamin is in fair condition,” she
tells me. “He’s unconscious due to a head injury, and he has some broken bones.”

“Oh.”

“And the woman passenger—” Mom’s voice breaks. “She was Mia Renwick.”

“Mia?” I try to wrap my mind around this. “Mia Renwick is dead?”

“Yes.”

“Oh no…” I’m stunned. “How’s Paige?”

“She’s holding up on the exterior, but I can tell she’s hurting on the inside. Right now she’s with Benjamin’s mom, trying to comfort her.”

“What about Mia’s mom?”

“It’s very sad, Erin. Very, very sad. My heart aches for her family. They’re beside themselves. And it doesn’t help that the media is here. Not that I blame them, this is big news. And already people are speculating about criminal charges or wrongful death suits against Benjamin. It’s bad and going to get worse.”

“Poor Paige.”

“Yes. But I’m so thankful, Erin. So thankful.”

“Me too, Mom.”

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

“Tell Paige I’m praying for Benjamin…and her too.”

“Thanks, honey, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I know I do.”

Then we say “I love you” and hang up.

The next couple of days pass in a blur. I commit myself to remain by Paige’s side, trying to absorb some of the shockwaves as I walk with her through this mess. The media seems to be
everywhere, and although Helen Hudson and our crew are relieved that Paige is safe, they’re also very concerned about how this will reflect on our show. I’m not really sure that I care. Right now, the success of our show seems very small compared to the tragedy around us.

We can hardly get in or out of the hospital without an assault of media and paparazzi. Paige is asked to tell her story again and again, which she does honestly and graciously. And when she’s asked why she wasn’t the one in the car with Benjamin, she tells the truth. With no candy coating or spindoctoring, she says that Benjamin had been drinking and that she wanted to drive him home. “He refused to give me his keys, and I refused to get in the car with him.”

“Lucky for you,” the journalist says.

“But not so lucky for Mia,” Paige says sadly.

Then when the reporters ask why Mia was with Benjamin, Paige simply states that she doesn’t know.

But one pushy reporter keeps pushing. “Come on,” he urges her, “you must have some idea.”

“Mia was at the same party,” she patiently explains. “And we even talked to her briefly.”

“So you were on friendly terms with Mia?”

“We weren’t really good friends, but we weren’t enemies either.”

“Do you think Benjamin and Mia were getting back together?” the reporter persists. “Is that why she was in the car with him?”

“That’s a question that only Benjamin can answer,” Paige says. “And that’s not what matters right now. We need to keep Benjamin, as well as Mia’s family, in our thoughts.”
And in our prayers
, I think.

Three days after the wreck, Benjamin regained consciousness, but his memory of that night was still foggy. He actually thought it was Paige who was with him and was shocked to learn it was Mia—and even more shocked to learn she is dead. But today, it seems Benjamin’s memory returned completely.

“He’s really depressed tonight,” Paige tells me as I drive her home from the hospital.

“Not surprising.”

“He’s blaming himself.”

“Well, he should.”

“Yes, but there’s a little more to the story.”

“Oh?”

“Benjamin knows he shouldn’t have been driving,” she tells me. “And it wasn’t his idea to give Mia a ride. It seems she kind of invited herself. And she’d been drinking too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And apparently she started a fight with him while they were driving and that fight was what caused the wreck. Well, that combined with the fact that he was impaired. He doesn’t deny that.”

“It might be something he’ll have to prove in court,” I tell her.

“His attorney is already insisting on blood alcohol level reports.”

I just shake my head. What a mess. It’s something that could’ve been avoided. Should’ve been avoided. But what point is there in saying this now? Besides, it’s not Paige’s fault. I know she’s learned some hard lessons from all this.

“How do you feel about Benjamin?” I ask her as we’re going up to our condo unit.

“The truth?”

“Yeah. I mean this is me, your sister.”

She nods. “I know. Well, I was ready to break up with him that night. I mean, I practically said as much. But to break up now, when he’s like this? Well, it’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

And I guess she’s making the right choice here. I mean, it might be cruel to dump Benjamin when he’s down like this, although I can tell it’s taking a toll on Paige too. But then, I remind myself, God sometimes uses hard things like this to get through to us. And Paige admits to me that she has been praying lately.

“I’m sure I don’t pray as much as you do. And I might not even be doing it right,” she tells me.

“I don’t know that there’s a right or wrong way,” I assure her. “I think it’s mostly just that you talk to God.”

“Well, I’m trying. And it even feels like God is listening. When I get done, I always feel better. In fact, I told Benjamin that he should try it.”

“Really? What did he say?”

“He said he’s thinking about it. But it’s a pretty new concept to him. I mean, he’s never gone to church at all.”

“Hey, maybe Blake could visit him,” I suggest. “They seem to get along okay. And Blake’s got a solid and strong faith that might encourage Benjamin.”

The next morning, Paige runs it past Benjamin, and he’s okay with it too. Blake went to visit him and called me afterward.

“It’s going really well,” Blake tells me. “Benjamin is really open to hearing about God. I gave him a Bible and a book about the basics of Christianity. And he was cool with it.”

One week after the car wreck, a memorial service is held for Mia Renwick. I go with Paige and we sit with Benjamin and his family. I feel a little uneasy about this, but Paige assures me that it’s the right thing to do. And when Benjamin leans over, quietly crying, I notice his bruised and cut face, as well as his arm in a cast, and I feel some sympathy for him. But mostly I feel for Mia’s family. And the service seems sad and sort of hopeless to me. I can’t imagine how her parents are feeling right now. And, as I pray for them, I remind myself that God’s mercy is far bigger than I can even imagine.

Two weeks have passed since the wreck, and Paige seems to be more like her old self, which is a good thing since we’re now planning our Paris trip. We’re at the studio, meeting with Helen and the others. I’m thinking that this might be just what we need, or rather what Paige needs. Something to distract her from Benjamin and his troubles, which seem to be piling higher daily.

“We’re structuring this trip a bit differently than New York,” Fran is telling us. “Each show will feature one French designer for an entire episode, so we really have to make these interviews count. And we’ll only do one or two actual fashion shows.”

“That sounds good.” Paige’s eyes light up with interest. “I like doing the interviews.”

“Great.” Fran nods. “We’ll also try to set something up with
Vogue Paris
and whatever else Leah gets lined up for us by then.”

“That all sounds fun.” Paige nods eagerly.

“And, sad as it is,” Helen says, “all this publicity with
Benjamin and Mia has sparked even more interest in our show internationally as well as closer to home.” She frowns. “How is Benjamin these days, anyway?”

Paige gives a quick report about his health—other than a broken arm and some cracked ribs, he’s pretty much back to normal. “He’s taking a very serious look at life though,” she tells them. “And he’s spending a lot of time with his attorney.”

“I can imagine.” Helen shakes her head. “And we don’t want to tell you how to live your life, Paige, but we would like to encourage you to distance yourself from him a bit.”

“Paris will be handy for that,” Fran says lightly.

“I’m okay with distancing myself,” Paige tells them. “In fact, that’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

Helen just nods then glances at her notes. “While we’re on the subject of men and romance, there is a rumor circulating in the fashion world that a certain designer might be making designs on you, Paige.”

“What?” Paige looks puzzled. “Who?”

“Dylan Marceau.”

“Oh.” Paige actually looks slightly embarrassed. “
Really?
”

Helen laughs. “Well, you know how rumors can be. But we thought that, if you were on board with this, we’d like for you to spend some time with Dylan in France. He’ll be doing a show during that same time. And perhaps he could sort of show you around. You know he grew up there. What do you think?”

Paige’s eyes light up now. “Seriously? That would be fantastic!”

Helen looks relieved. “Okay, Fran, see what you can set up.”

As we leave the studio, Paige is starting to bubble over. “Can you believe it, Erin? Paris and Dylan Marceau,” she says
happily. “Does it get any better than that?” And suddenly she’s gushing about what she thinks is about to become the biggest trend in fashion and how Paris is the fashion capital of the world. That’s when I realize that my sister’s kite is starting to soar again. And this time, I will do all that I can to hold onto the string. I can’t control my sister or her choices, but I can try to be a good influence. And, even more than that, I can pray.

As we’re walking to the car, her optimism begins pulling me in. I realize that her enthusiasm is contagious. Before long, I’m just as happy as she is and we both begin practicing our rusty French, although hers is much better than mine. And I think, okay, this is going to be fun.

“Vive la France!” she shouts when we get to her car.

“Vive la vie!” I shout back.

Then Paige hugs me. “Yes,” she says, “Hurrah for life!”

“Amen!”