“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.
Chapter 19
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?
Chapter 20
“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.”
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