The ambiguity in his response did little to alleviate my anxiety.
***
I sat in front of my TV on Monday night, a quart of chocolate ice cream and a spoon on the end table next to me.
Bradley McKnight was questioning Chris about his performance. “What are you singing for us tonight?”
“I’m going to perform Ryan Star’s Breathe.”
“And what prompted that choice, if I may ask?”
Chris smiled a private smile. “The song kind of chose me this week. I can’t really explain why.” I shuddered when he looked into the camera. It was like he was looking directly at me.
In the end, he, along with Cynthia, made it to the final round.
Chapter 24
“I want you to meet my family,” Chris said over the phone the morning before the final show. “Their flight lands at noon. Will you go with me to pick them up?”
“Of course!” I hadn’t seen much of Chris that week; he’d spent every available moment at the studio perfecting his act for the final performance.
A long, twenty-passenger Hummer was parked outside my apartment building. The driver held the door open, waiting for Chris and me to climb in. I had to blink to keep my eyeballs from falling out of my head.
“We wouldn’t all fit into a cab,” Chris laughed, gesturing towards the door. “Come on, ladies first.”
The interior was unbelievable. On either side of the hardwood walkway were two, long, black leather benches. There was a wet bar and, not one but two, flat-panel TV’s with DVD players. Pink and blue fiber optic cables swirled along the ceiling and sides.
Chris climbed in and sat beside me, pulling me against his side. “Now, this is a car.” He leaned back against the seat and looked up at the mirrored ceiling. “You know, if I tilt my head just the right way, I can almost see-”
I glanced up and immediately knew what he was doing. I pushed my arms together, held my head back, and leaned forward to expose more cleavage. “Better?”
He pulled on my shirt, but I smacked his hand away. “No!” I laughed.
“Aw, come on. No one will see.”
I ignored him and readjusted myself in the seat. “So, how many people exactly are we picking up?”
“Seventeen.”
“Are you kidding? That’s more than five times the size of my family.” I tried to imagine what it would be like to have that many living, breathing family members.
“They’re not all related. Some are friends.”
“Still, that’s a lot.”
We got to the busy terminal at O’Hare and waited just outside of security. After a bit, a short, plump, dark-haired woman caught Chris’s attention.
“Mom!” He took her bags and hugged her tightly. “It’s so good to see you. How was your flight?”
“It wasn’t too bad.” She returned his hug and kissed his cheek before turning to look at me. “You must be Allison.” I held out my hand, but she stepped past it and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s nice to finally meet you! Chris has told me a lot.”
More people joined our little group, and I was introduced to Chris’s dad, his sister and niece, three brothers, a slew of in-laws, two cousins, and a few friends. By the time I got through everyone, my head was whirling with all the names and faces. I wondered if I’d ever keep them all straight.
We piled into the limo after retrieving their luggage. Chris sat on my right, and his sister Susan, on my left. There was barely enough room with all the people and their bags, so we had to sit really close. I wondered if it would have been better if I’d stayed behind.
The car was noisy with all the conversations. One of his brothers, Robert, I think, started poking buttons and turned on the CD player. A Korn song blared at full volume.
Hannah, Chris’s niece, started to cry.
Her mother cupped her hands over her ears. “Robert!”
“Sor-ry!” he said defensively, turning down the volume. “I’m trying to turn on the TV.”
“There’ll be TV at the hotel,” Susan said, giving her brother a reprimanding look. “I think you’ll survive a little while longer.”
He sneered at her. “Yeah, but how many other chances will I have to watch it in a limo?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to me. “We’re kind of crazy. Don’t let that scare you.”
Chris laughed and pointed a finger at his sister. “She’s the crazy one. Watch out.”
She reached around me and smacked his arm.
The ride back to my apartment was bittersweet. I enjoyed watching everyone together, all the teasing and nitpicking, the laughter, but I was also reminded of how much I missed my own family.
When we reached my building, Chris stepped out and stood on the sidewalk with me. “Will you have dinner with us tonight?”
“Dinner? Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to barge in on your visit.”
He looked at me like I was a lunatic. “Why would you even say something like that? I want you to come.” He held my arms against my sides and planted a trail of little kisses down the curve of my neck. Someone inside the car let out a wolf-whistle, but he ignored it.
My willpower vanished. “If you insist.”
I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin. “I do. Meet us at the hotel at six, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, nearly breathless.
Chris and his family left, and I went upstairs and found Emily on the couch. I sat next to her, and she glanced away from a commercial. “What’s up?” she asked.
“I just met Chris’s family.” I paused when a clip about the show came on. The announcer was comparing fan polls, trying to predict the results of the finale. From the look of things, Chris was the clear favorite. “He wants me to meet them for dinner tonight.”
Emily smiled at me. “That’s big.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I mused over her choice of words, considering the number of people involved. “You can’t imagine how big. I went with him to pick them up from the airport. They were all very nice, but the entire way home, all I thought about were Mom and Grams and Gramps.”
***
Chris and his mom were waiting in the lobby. She was sitting in an oversized chair, and he was leaning against the fireplace mantle. They looked like they were having a serious discussion.
He looked right past me when I walked in.
“Hi,” I said, raising my hand to wave. I hoped I hadn’t interrupted something important.
He looked at me again, and it took a full second before he knew who I was. He blinked and shook his head. “I didn’t even recognize you. You look great!”
I smiled, glad he’d noticed my effort. Emily had helped me run a flat-iron through my hair, and I wore a long, flowery skirt with a light-blue cami. “Thanks. Hi, Mrs. Knots.”
“Hi, honey,” she said, standing up for a hug. “Please, call me Judy.”
I looked around and noticed we were the only three there. “Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Around,” Chris said, shrugging. “In their rooms, out exploring the city, who knows? I thought it’d be better with just the three of us, less intimidating. Mom wanted a chance to get to know you better.”
I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to remember everyone’s names.
“Things were so hectic before,” Judy explained. “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you.”
We were seated at a table inside the hotel’s restaurant. Chris excused himself for the restroom, and Judy jumped on the opportunity to talk privately.
She gave me a serious but loving look. “I think you’re a lovely girl.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
She continued, “I know that you and Chris are under a lot of pressure right now, but you can’t let that get you down.”
Her frankness was surprising. “I’m sorry, what?”
She looked in the direction Chris had gone. “I’m not normally one to meddle in the lives of my children, but Chris told me a li
ttle bit about what’s been happening lately.” She reached across the table and patted my hand, fixing me with a motherly stare. “The media are relentless and will do anything for a story, whether or not it’s honest. And people, well, they can be very critical. Just keep your head up and listen to your heart.”
I was too stunned to say anything. Chris talked about me with his mother? I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
She winked at me and pulled her hand away when Chris came around the corner. “Take some advice from an old lady.”
“You’re hardly old,” I said, laughing.
“Even still,” she said, winking.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Chris asked, looking at his mother and then at me.
Judy looked up at her son and smiled. “We’ll never tell.”
It wasn’t long before the waiter came to take our orders. The food was delicious and the conversation was comfortable, and I decided I liked Judy a lot. She was warm and sincere, much like her son. She reminded me a lot of Grams.
After dinner we went back out to the lobby. Chris led us to a black, baby-grand piano and took a seat on the bench. At first, he just tinkered with the keys, plinking out simple little melodies like Row-Row-Row Your Boat and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
“Let’s play Name That Tune,” he said.
“So easy,” I laughed after he finished the theme from The Young and the Restless. “I didn’t know you were a soap opera fan. We may have to rethink this relationship.”
He groaned. “My sister was an addict. It’s a wonder I turned out the way I did.”
I laughed. “Is this all you’ve got?”
A smile touched his lips. “Okay, see if you can guess this one.” He got serious. Concentration lines wrinkled his forehead as he leaned forward and played. His fingers flowed effortlessly over the keys, and when he came to a particularly melodic sequence, his eyebrows pulled together in a tight line.
The song was beautiful, but not something I recognized. It had a contemporary feel to it, filled with fast-paced runs and sections of slower, expressive harmonies. I enjoyed it very much and applauded when his fingers came to a rest.
He sat upright on the bench and stretched his arms above his head. “Okay, Miss Smarty Pants. What was it?”
“I have no idea.”
“No?” he teased, a half-smirk tugging at his mouth. “But I thought you were an expert.”
“I honestly don’t know. What was it?”
He laughed. “Just a little something I wrote.”
“You wrote that?” I was seriously impressed. I could read music, but composing it was something else entirely.
He then played another tune. This one I recognized. It was from Phantom of the Opera. He sang some of the lines as he played.
Listening to his rich voice and watching his fingers flow over the keys put me in a trance-like state. I became absorbed in the music, and when he finished, I simply looked at him.
“Have you heard that one before?” he asked, cocking his head.
“Yes. I saw the movie a few years ago.”
“You’ve never seen it on stage?”
“Billy Elliot was my first, live, stage production.”
“We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?” he asked.
“Maybe, someday.” I looked around the mostly vacant room. “Where did your mom go?”
He nodded towards the elevator. “Upstairs.”
“Is she okay?” I thought it was odd that she would just leave.
“She wanted to give us some time.”
Why would she do that? I’d spent more time with her son lately than she had. A sudden concern crossed my mind. “Do you think she liked me?”
“What’s not to like?” He reached up and cupped my cheek in his hand, his eyes burning into mine. I held my breath. “Don’t worry, she loved you.”
I bit my lip and dropped my eyes. “I guess I better go. You need your rest. Big day tomorrow.”
“It’s not that late. Stay awhile.”
I shook my head. “Not a chance. Tomorrow night is way too important. I’ve already distracted you enough.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. When he spoke, his lips were only inches from mine. “You don’t distract me. You inspire me.”
***
The final show was booked at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, and taping was scheduled to begin at seven. Emily and I arrived a little after six-thirty.
I spotted Jake in a corner, troubleshooting a camera.
“You look frustrated,” I said when I got close enough for him to hear.
He looked up at me and dropped his screwdriver. “Damn, girl! Are you wearing that dress, or is it wearing you?” He gave me an appreciative stare and then hugged me, careful not to touch my mocha-colored dress with his greasy hands.
“Are you ready for this? Your last show?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not ready to go back to Cali yet.”
“When do you leave?”
“Wednesday.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Make sure you come see me before then. Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?” My voice cracked a little. I was terrible with goodbyes.
“I wouldn’t dare.” He winked and returned to the camera.
Emily and I found our seats. They were near the back of the theatre, but we had a good, unobstructed view of the stage. A large section near the front had been blocked off and reserved for Chris and Cynthia’s families. Chris’s parents were seated next to his sister, along with numerous other faces I recognized from the airport. They all looked really nervous.
Bradley McKnight welcomed everyone and explained the venue. “Each performer will sing two songs. One must be an original composition. Cynthia won the coin toss and chose to go first, so, without further delay, I give you Cynthia Strikes, singing My Heart Will Go On!”
She looked fabulous and did an awesome job with the song. It was the best I’d ever heard her sing. I hoped Chris had something really great prepared.
After a break, our host returned. “And now, let’s hear it for Chris Knots, with his original piece, Without You.”
This song was edgy. It was full of guitars, drums, and a keyboard, but I recognized some of the melodies from Chris’s piano performance the night before. The melody started out slow. Chris sang, very softly, the opening lyrics.
I never knew I could feel this way.
So secure,
So pure.
Please oh please, let me stay.
Just take a moment to figure it out.
I want you to know, I have no doubts.
What will it take for you to see?
Don’t you know, what you’ve done to me?
The tempo picked up. Lights flashed and pyrotechnics lit the stage. Chris played a stanza on his guitar before continuing with the chorus.
You went in and touched my heart,
I never wanna be apart.
I don’t wanna live, without you.
I can’t exist, without you.
Chris was intense in the way he delivered the song. His body language, his expressions, and the way he held control, even when pushing his range, was stunning.
Stella praised him for his growth over the past couple of months and commented on the passion he displayed in the song. “You’ve really, really done it, Chris,” she said. “Regardless of tonight’s results, you have a big future ahead of you.”
Cynthia came out for her second song after the commercial break. Her outfit was little more than a sparkly corset and bustier.
Emily elbowed me. “She’s showing off a little more than her music, don’t you think?”
It was true. One wrong turn and the show would have to increase their content ratings to ‘mature audience only’.
Luckily, everything managed to stay in place during her performance. Her song had a teen-pop, almost flirty feel to it.
Chris wore a black and white suit with a
silver tie for his last performance. He looked like something off the cover of GQ Magazine.
“Damn, he looks good,” Emily whispered. I certainly had no argument.
Bradley McKnight appeared, once again, to introduce the song. “Written by Bob Dylan and performed by many, I’m pleased to present, Chris Knots, singing Make You Feel My Love.”
The theatre went dark. Only a single, blue spotlight shone down on him as the opening melody began.
Words could not describe how emotionally powerful his voice was. I held my breath and looked around at the faces in the crowd. Rows of people stood and swayed as he sang. His fans. His smiling, adoring fans. They all loved him.
My head spun as comments from the past several weeks assaulted my memory.
You’re sucking the life right out of me.
Chris had done it. He was really going to make it big.
What do you think will happen when the show’s over?
The cheers from the crowd echoed in my ears.
Let’s just get through the end of the show and see where we’re at.
Chris finished, and Emily nudged me. “That was incredible!”
You have a different frame of mind, a different perception than he does.
Once the judges finished collaborating, Bradley McKnight reappeared and stood between Chris and Cynthia. “And finally, the moment America has been waiting for.” He clinched the microphone under his arm and ripped open the white envelope. Cynthia wore a frozen smile, and Chris stood with his head bowed, looking at the stage floor.
I know you’ll do the right thing.
“Our first ever Superstardom winner is…” he took a big breath as we all sat on the edge of our seats. “Chris Knots!”
The amphitheater exploded with cheers. Around me, people were on their feet, applauding and screaming their approval. A blizzard of neon confetti fell from the ceiling, blocking my view of the stage. My hands trembled as the room started to close in on me.
I’m falling in love with you.
After a few minutes, the paper flurry settled, and people sat back down. On stage, the tuxedo-clad host shoved a mic in Chris’s face. “Oh, wow,” Chris stuttered as the room quieted down. “Unbelievable. This is such an honor…”
The crowd roared again, drowning him out.
Face The Music Page 23