Swinging On A Star

by Janice Thompson

  “Okay.” So I’d been right with my sinking-sand theory. Getting the foundation in place before the storm was the better bet. Still, I had to wonder what would come of all of his hard work when the winds got to blowing.

  I watched Larry and his guys work for a couple of hours, mesmerized by both their speed and the prevalent sunlight overhead. Seemed like that’s how it always was—the sun seemed to shine brightest right before a big storm. What was up with that?

  D.J. showed up at 11:30 to help with the castle construction. As I watched him work, my heart skipped a beat. Now this was a true knight in shining armor—always here when we needed him. And it didn’t hurt that the boy had muscles that went on forever.

  At noon, a couple of guys from the Food Network arrived at our house with papers for all of us to sign. There were liability waivers, privacy forms, and even some legal mumbo jumbo about how we wouldn’t hold them responsible if something negative about our family aired on their program. That one gave me reason to pause, especially in light of all we were going through. I had no idea things could get this complicated.

  As we signed the final form, Mama looked up at one of the men with a concerned look in her eyes. “So, you plan to move forward in spite of the storm? Is that right?”

  “We’re hoping it’ll pass in time. Our main concern now is electricity.”

  Good point. Sometimes we went without power for days or even weeks after a big storm. Still, I hoped that would not be the case this time around. I made a commitment to pray specifically about the power situation.

  I prayed for something else too. As the skies overhead darkened, I prayed with every fiber of my being for Rob, Brock, and the others. Marian had managed to get through to Rob on her cell phone earlier this morning, and he’d given us an update. They were trying to race the storm home, just as Pop had predicted. But would they make it?

  At 4:00 D.J. joined me inside since Larry and his crew were leaving for the day. Soon after, Marian showed up at my door with all of her bridesmaids in tow. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Bella.” She took a few steps into my house and threw her arms around me. “I haven’t heard from Rob in over three hours. He’s not answering my calls. You’ve got to help me. If something has happened to him, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  I ushered all of the ladies inside but kept my attention on Marian. “Deep breath, honey. The first thing we’re going to do is call the Coast Guard. They’ll know what to tell us. Likely they know just where the guys are.”

  She nodded. “Rob’s dad is an experienced navigator. He’s made this trip dozens of times before and has fought a few storms. I’m not sure why this one has me so unnerved.”

  “It’s only natural. And you have no control over things. That’s always hard.” I smiled before adding, “And, of course, there is that part about your wedding. Maybe you’re a little nervous about all of that.”

  “You think?” A hint of a smile graced her lips, and I saw a sparkle in her eyes beyond the tears.

  “I don’t know much about traveling in a yacht,” I said, “but I was there when they loaded up, and they’ve got plenty of supplies.”

  “Yes. And I know Rob.” Marian looked a bit more confident now. “He’s always listening to the radio with the National Weather Service information. They drone on and on, but trust me, he hears what he needs to hear when he needs to hear it. And they’ve got the ship-to-shore radio in case of emergency.”

  “Of course. And again, they’ve done this before.”

  Within minutes we heard the first peal of thunder. The entire Rossi clan—along with Marian and her entourage— gathered together in the foyer, the only room in the house without windows. Well, unless you counted the window on the front door.

  Settling down on the floor, I rested my head against D.J.’s shoulder, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too. I wouldn’t be any other place.” He kissed me on the top of the head. “But I have to admit, it’s a little different riding out a storm down here on the island. Splendora’s so far north that we usually don’t see much action.”

  “I’m hoping it won’t be bad here either.”

  The bridesmaids chattered incessantly, but their conversation slowed as those first few raindrops fell. I could sense the tension in the room but tried to relax. Tried to put my mind on other things.

  Just when I’d almost accomplished my goal, someone pounded on the front door, startling us all.

  “Who would be out in the middle of a storm?” Pop asked, making his way to the door.

  “Someone pretty desperate,” Mama said.

  Turned out it was someone pretty desperate—Tony, checking on Sophia. As he came rushing through the door—his clothes wet, his usually perfect hair in wet curls—my sister glanced up at him with a casual, “Oh, hey, Tony. What are you doing here?”

  The whole Rossi clan released a collective sigh. When would she get it? After all these years of jumping from one boyfriend to another … after so many broken hearts … here stood a perfectly great guy—and handsome to boot— ready to pledge his love. Only she clearly didn’t get it. Or didn’t want to.

  Strange how much had changed since Brock walked in the door. Two weeks ago, Sophia would’ve given her eyeteeth for Tony to show her this kind of attention. Now she didn’t seem to see that he existed at all.

  Tony took a few steps in her direction, but Rosa stopped him in his tracks. “You’re dripping all over the rug, boy. Let me get you a towel.” She sprinted out of the room, then returned with a large beach towel, which he used right away. Then he turned in Sophia’s direction.

  “Can I sit next to you?” he asked.

  “What?” She looked up, appearing completely distracted. “Oh, sure. I guess so, Tony.”

  Less than ten minutes later, the howl of the wind met the first sheets of rain in what sounded like a musical performance. D.J. looked up at the ceiling and whistled. “Whoa. Hope she holds.”

  “She will,” Pop said. “This house has survived dozens of storms over the years, and she’s standing strong.”

  “What do you expect?” Laz piped up. “She’s a Rossi! Of course she’s still standing!”

  We all had a good laugh at that one. I glanced over at Marian, who hadn’t said a word since her call to the Coast Guard. She gripped her cell phone, waiting for that one call that would change everything for the better. Unfortunately, it never came. The bridesmaids more than made up for her silence, however. I’d never heard so much mindless chatter. You would think we’d all gathered together for a party, not a storm.

  We sat huddled together for much of the evening, and I kept a watchful eye on Marian. As the storm raged, I held my shivering Yorkie-Poo in my arms. Several times she let out nervous whimpers. I didn’t blame her. I was scared too. Finally, as the winds slowed, she fell asleep in my arms, a comforted child.

  Was this how God felt, perhaps, when I finally relinquished my fears and gave myself over to his protection during the storms of my life? Did he want to reach down and pat my head and say, “It’s gonna be okay, Bella. Just sleep.”

  Likely.

  At 6:45 the power went out. We were prepared with flashlights and candles. And, of course, Pop had an emergency generator. Not that he would use it. No, it would be reserved for tomorrow, if the power problems lingered.

  I wondered about that for a moment. What if the storm passed but we were left without power for several days? Could we still hold the wedding?

  Somehow thinking of that got me tickled. A true couple from the Renaissance era wouldn’t have had electricity anyway. So, if they could do it, we could do it! Somehow.

  Glancing over at Joey and Norah, I had to smile. The two were a picture of peace and tranquility, curled up in each other’s arms. I’d never seen two people better suited to each other. Well, almost never. I reached up to give D.J. a kiss on the cheek, and he responded by drawing me close.

  By 8:15 the worst of the storm had blown over. Most eve
ryone in the room had dozed off, with the exception of Marian, D.J., and me. The winds eventually slowed. For that matter, so did my breathing. Again I realized just how anxious I had been. But now … well, the worst appeared to be behind us.

  Or was it?

  Suddenly our front yard came alive with lights.

  “What is that?” I jumped up and peered out the window on the front door, squinting as I was met with a blinding glare.

  “Did the power come back on?” Sophia asked, coming awake.

  “No. The lights are coming from …” I squinted again. “Headlights?” Sure enough, a car had pulled into our driveway. Two more cars had parked in the street. The blinding light appeared to be coming from one of them.

  “What is that?” D.J. asked.

  We got our answer seconds later when the loudest banging in human history nearly knocked our front door from its hinges.

  “I’ll get it.” D.J. headed that way and inched the door open. Seconds later he cried, “I don’t believe it!”

  The whole group of us rose as we heard the voices of Rob, Brock, and the other groomsmen. The bridesmaids all began to squeal at once, filling the foyer with their high-pitched voices.

  Marian raced across the room and threw herself into Rob’s arms, wailing at the top of her lungs. “I’m so glad you’re alive!”

  Sophia rushed to welcome Brock, who looked like something the cat had dragged in. She threw her arms around Brock’s neck and began to weep. Loudly.

  One by one the others were all led into the foyer, dripping water all over Mama’s precious Persian rug. Rosa, being the practical one, went to look for towels. The bridesmaids were happy to help.

  Joey and Norah headed off to the kitchen to make sandwiches. Always thinking of others, of course.

  Tony looked at Brock and Sophia, apparently a little confused. Bit by bit recognition came into his eyes. “Wait a minute.” He pointed to Brock. “You’re not Vinny DiMarco.”

  Oh, yikes!

  “Well, technically, I am,” Brock said, extending his hand. “But these days I usually go by my stage name—”

  “Brock Benson,” Tony said, his jaw hardening. He glanced over at Sophia, then shook his head. “I get it now. I guess you have been a little distracted.”

  With a nod of his head, Tony disappeared out the front door … and into the storm.

  My heart ached for him, but what could I do? Sophia sure didn’t seem troubled by his disappearing act. She kept her attention on Brock.

  As the guys toweled off, I asked the obvious question. “What in the world happened?”

  “We raced the storm back home,” Rob said. “Almost beat her, but those last few miles were rough.”

  Marian smacked him in the arm, and he responded with an “Ouch!”

  “I’ve been calling you for hours on your phone and your dad’s. Why didn’t you answer?” she asked.

  “I lost my phone. It went overboard about seventy miles out from shore when the winds picked up. We tried to reach you on my dad’s phone probably twenty times, but the call wouldn’t go through. It would act like it was going to … and then nothing.”

  “I tried on my phone too,” Brock said. “Nothing. No service. We got to the marina over an hour ago, but the weather was just too crazy to drive here. We waited till things slowed down, then Rob’s dad brought us over.”

  We would have continued the conversation, but the blinding light from outside grew even brighter. Brock walked over to the window and groaned as he looked outside.

  “Rob, I think I was right about those cars.” He turned back to face us. “They followed us from the marina. They must’ve picked up on our conversation with the Coast Guard. We had to give officials the names of everyone on board.”

  “So … the media knows you’re here?”

  When Brock nodded and said, “I guess,” I swallowed hard. No telling what would happen next.

  Turning back to the window, Brock shrugged. “I should’ve given them my legal name. No one knows who Vinny Di-Marco is. But under the stress of the moment, I just let ‘Brock Benson’ slip out.” He released a sigh. “Not that it matters, really. They’ll go away eventually. They always do.” He turned to face Marian. “Still … the last thing I wanted to do was draw any media attention on the week of your wedding. I’m so sorry about all of this, Marian.”

  “Brock, I don’t care about that anymore.” Marian’s voice broke, and she spoke through her tears. “I’m just so glad you guys are safe. I … I was afraid … I was afraid there might not be a wedding. I was afraid Rob was …” She dissolved into tears, and Rob swept her into his arms.

  “It’s okay, baby. We’re safe and sound.” He held her close for a couple of minutes and turned to all of us. “There’s going to be a wedding, and it’s going to be great.”

  Brock yawned, and I turned to him with a smile. “Looks like you could use some sleep.”

  “Yeah.” He stifled another yawn. “A hot shower would be great too.”

  “With the power out, there’s not going to be much hot water,” Mama said.

  At this, the guys flew into action. Brock hollered, “First dibs!” then raced up the stairs with Rob and the other guys on his heels.

  It didn’t make sense to send the guys to the Tremont this late, and the condo Marian had rented was too close to the water’s edge to be considered safe. No, they would all stay here—with us. Mama and Rosa took inventory, trying to figure out where everyone would sleep. They finally came up with a workable plan, one that used up every bed, sofa, and floor space.

  By 10:30, everyone had eaten and the house was silent and still. D.J. and I sat on the bottom stair, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. He slipped his arm around me and drew me close.

  “Tough night,” he whispered.

  “Mm-hmm.” A shiver ran down my spine. “When I think of what could’ve happened to those guys out there …”

  “I know.” He grew silent for a moment, then added, “I was really worried too.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah. Spent a lot of time praying for them. Rob is a great guy, and Brock …” His voice drifted off.

  “What about him?” I asked.

  D.J.’s voice wavered a bit as he spoke. “Bella, I really like him. He’s a lot of fun and a really talented guy. But we both know that personality and talent won’t get you into heaven. I was worried that something might happen to him before …”

  “Before he came to the Lord?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” D.J. drew in a breath. “I’m mighty glad he’s back safe and sound. Hoping God can use this near miss to somehow get through to him.”

  “Me too.” I leaned over and gave D.J. a kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

  He shrugged. “I am?”

  “You are.” I paused a minute, and my stomach rumbled.

  “Hungry?” D.J. asked.

  “Starved!”

  We took one of the smaller flashlights and snuck into the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

  “Thank goodness the lights are out,” I said, reaching for some of my aunt’s homemade cookies. “If Rosa knew we were in here, she would—”

  “She would what?” Rosa’s voice rang out, startling me.

  “She … would tell me to take not just one cookie but two!” I grabbed them from the cookie jar and giggled. Pretty soon we were all laughing. And by the time we finished, I felt better about everything. The storm. The wedding. Brock Benson’s spiritual journey. Everything.

  Yes, tomorrow was definitely going to be a better day. I could feel it in my bones.

  22

  Young at Heart

  By Friday morning the storm had almost passed, and— wonder of wonders!—the power was back on. Rob and his groomsmen headed off to the Tremont—minus Brock, of course. And Marian drove her bridesmaids back to the condo. As much as I’d loved having them all here, I enjoyed the peace and quiet even more.

  After they left, I lay in
my bed, curled up under the covers, listening to the last remnants of rain on our roof and a light breeze whistling at our windows. Though things were pretty tame now, the wind had really whipped up in the night. I could only imagine what the castle looked like. Was it even still standing? If so, could I really pull off a wedding there by tomorrow night?

  I’d just started to play out the possibilities in my head for the hundredth time when the doorbell rang. Precious took this as a sign that we were under attack and began a yapping frenzy. When would the dog learn that incoming guests were just that—guests?

  I managed to get her calmed down and went into the hallway, where I found Pop heading down the stairs.

  “Who in the world would come knocking at our door this early in the morning?” He yawned and slipped on his robe.

  “Maybe someone needing help,” I said. “Or …” I paused, thinking about the men in the cars last night. “Maybe the paparazzi looking for Brock. Better look through the glass before opening the door, just in case.”

  I followed him down the stairs and noticed the reflection of something shiny hit the glass panes on the front door. Through the glass I saw someone—make that several some-ones— in a shimmering haze of color. They were almost blinding, in fact.

  Pop opened the door, and I gasped as I saw Twila, Jolene, and Bonnie Sue standing there in their sequined dresses. Jolene’s beehive hairdo was lopsided, Twila’s makeup was smeared all over her face, and Bonnie Sue looked like she’d been crying. Their bags were mangled, but they held on to them for dear life.

  Precious took one look at the women and flipped. I’d never seen her yap with such vigor. Likely the sight of these bedraggled ladies scared her to death.

  “Sister Twila!” I threw my arms around her. “Are you all right?”

  I felt her trembling as she responded. “As all right as a person could be after a near-death experience.”

  I ushered them inside, and Pop and Joey helped with their bags.

  “What in the world happened?” I asked, leading them into the dining room.