Swinging On A Star

by Janice Thompson

  “Agreed.”

  “One of the reasons I jumped on board with the idea of Brock staying with your family was because I knew he’d spend those ten days surrounded by people who love the Lord, people who could share the love of Christ with him.”

  I sighed. “Marian, I don’t know that we were the best choice. The Rossis are a little, well, offbeat. I hope we didn’t do more damage than good.”

  “Oh no. The fact that your family is quirky is what made this so perfect. He needed to see that Christians are normal, that they still go through the usual ups and downs. That they’re not stiff or pretentious.”

  “Yes, but getting arrested and being filmed by the Food Network?” I shuddered. “We’ve left a lasting impression on him.”

  “You have,” she said, “but I’d be willing to bet it’s not the impression you’re thinking. He shared a few things with Rob out there on that boat. I think he’s making progress.”

  “Even more since his night in jail,” I added. “I heard all about it on the way home.”

  “Sounds like God is getting through to him. But I’m telling you this so you’ll pray. Brock Benson’s got the world at his fingertips, but what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world …”

  “Only to lose his soul.” We spoke the words together.

  “Right.” Her sigh was followed by an unexpected giggle.

  “Um, Bella, I have to go. A certain someone thinks I’m taking too much time away from him.” Another giggle followed, and I did my best not to think about what might be evoking it.

  “Marian, go enjoy your honeymoon. Oh, but just let me say one more thing—you were absolutely ravishing last night.”

  “Th-thank you.” With a series of giggles, I lost her. The phone went dead, and I stared at it, smiling. Oh, what would that be like? To wake up next to the man of your dreams? To have him so infatuated with you that he couldn’t even be away from you long enough for a phone call?

  A familiar voice drew me away from the phone. D.J.!

  “When did you get here?” I rose from the sofa to give him a hug.

  “Oh, about a minute ago. Aunt Rosa let me in.”

  “You came in the back?”

  He nodded, and we sat together on the sofa. “Yeah. I parked my car in the driveway, so it was just easier to come in the back. Rosa and Brock are in the kitchen, talking.”

  “He’s really going to miss her cooking,” I said. “Poor guy.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much. From what I could tell, she was giving him the recipes for his favorites. In alphabetical order.”

  “Wow. He cooks?”

  “Who knows!” D.J. laughed. “For all we know, he might hire a cook. But at least he’s got the recipes now. He’ll be taking a piece of Texas with him.”

  “He will.” I nodded, thinking of Marian’s words. I decided to spill my guts to D.J. “I have to admit, I was a little enamored with Brock when he first showed up.”

  “I figured.”

  “He’s a Hollywood star.”

  “Right.” D.J.’s eyes narrowed. “Are we going someplace with this?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned against him, placing a few tender kisses on his cheek. “I just need you to know that my heart is completely sold out to you, Dwayne Neeley Jr. You’re my knight in shining armor. My prince. You’re the Romeo to my Juliet. You’re the one I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl. You’re the one with my glass slipper.”

  “Are these fairy-tale analogies going to go on much longer?” D.J. grinned. “’Cause if they are … ”

  “Nah. I’m done now. But I just needed you to know I’m in love with you. Head-over-heels, can’t-walk-straight, don’t-know-what-I’d-do-if-anything-ever-happened-to-separate-us in love. In case you didn’t already know it.”

  “You love me?” He looked stunned. “I had no idea.” The look on his face was so serious, I slugged him. D.J. laughed, then wrapped me in his arms. “You’re a nut, Bella. Seriously, I’ve never doubted your love for a minute, even with an Academy Award winner in the house vying for your attention.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And just so you know, I’ve loved you from the minute I met you in that wedding facility of yours. The only problem with you saying all those things about me—other than the fact that about half of them are exaggerated—is I want to respond with something equally as grand, but I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to tell you how much you mean to me, but I’m not as good with words, which really frustrates me. You painted a really pretty picture there with all that fairy-tale stuff. I would try to come back at you, but I don’t think I could do it justice.”

  “You’ll never know unless you try.”

  He looked me in the eyes, and for the first time I noticed his tears. “Bella, I thank God every day for you. When I wake up in the morning, I praise him from the bottom of my heart that he brought you into my life. And when I drop into bed at night, I tell him all over again. I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve you. Maybe that’s what makes you such a gift—there’s nothing I could have done to deserve someone as great as you. But I can’t live without you, Bella. And I don’t plan on trying.”

  I reached up with a fingertip and brushed a tear from his cheek, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs that it actually hurt. “That was more beautiful than any fairy tale,” I whispered. “I don’t think you could’ve done a nicer job of saying it.”

  “I’m just a country boy from Splendora, Texas,” he said. “I’ll never be in the movies. But I’m fine being who I am. And where I am. As long as you’re with me, I’m content.”

  “Then you can count on being content forever. Because you’re not shaking me. Ever.”

  He winked, then whispered, “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

  As his lips met mine for a kiss that rivaled any on a Hollywood screen, in the next room Guido took to singing, his voice adding just that right ambience for our special moment. In fact, “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” never sounded so good.

  34

  Just the Way You Are

  When D.J. and I came up for air, I giggled, then gave him another peck on the cheek. Off in the distance, Rosa shouted, “Someone shut that bird up before I strangle him!” and I laughed.

  “I guess we’d better do something about Guido before Rosa hurts him.”

  D.J. shook his head. “She wouldn’t hurt that bird. In fact, I think she’s crazy about him.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sure. He’s a part of Laz. And you know how she feels about Laz.” D.J. grinned. “Not that she’s come out and said it, mind you, but I think it’s pretty clear.”

  “Yeah.” I cradled into his embrace. “Why do you suppose it’s so hard for some people to tell each other how they feel?”

  “Not sure, but I’m glad that family trait didn’t trickle down to you.” He kissed the tip of my nose, then rose and grabbed my hand. “But Guido’s starting to get on my nerves now, so let’s go see if we can help him shift gears to another song.”

  “He only knows one other song.”

  “Exactly.”

  We entered the kitchen to find Guido in his cage in front of the window. He was down to eighty-eight bottles of beer, and Rosa looked like she might very well strangle him. Brock sat on a barstool, scribbling down a recipe, and acknowledged us with a grunt as we walked into the room.

  “Tell me again how you prepared the chicken parmesan.” He looked at Rosa, perched and ready to write her response.

  “I start with the most tender chicken breasts I can find, and then pound them down to the perfect size, shape, and consistency.”

  “Okay. Got it.” He looked up, ready for more.

  “Afterward I deep-fry them and coat them in a meat gravy.”

  “The best on the planet,” I threw in. “That first bite is always worth waiting for, but you’ve got to do it right. Get a decent-sized piece of chicken and plenty of sauce. And
cheese.”

  “Oh, the cheese!” Rosa’s face lit up. “I use mozzarella, of course, then add hand-grated Parmesan on top.”

  “The whole concoction is a cheese lover’s delight,” I said.

  “Or a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare,” my pop said, entering the room. He filled his coffee cup, then left us to our own devices.

  Brock looked up at Rosa. “Thanks so much for sharing your secrets. I’m taking them with me back to Hollywood. Hope it’s okay.”

  “As long as you give credit where credit is due.” Aunt Rosa winked.

  “Oh, I will,” he said. “I’ll tell everyone about you.”

  Rosa laughed. “I don’t mean me, Brock, I mean the Lord. He’s the one we need to give the credit to.”

  Brock looked a little confused by that.

  I made my way over to Guido’s cage and began to sing, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound …” Guido picked up on my lead and added, “That saved a wretch like me!” He sustained the word me for quite some time, his voice warbling. I laughed. Turning back to Rosa, I said, “See? He’s not so bad.”

  “I just wish he would make up his mind, is all,” she said. “One minute he’s a believer, the next minute he’s singing about bottles of beer on the wall and calling people names. That bird straddles the fence, and it’s driving me crazy. There’s only so much a person can take, after all.”

  D.J. seemed to find that pretty humorous. “Well, we’re working on him, but these things take time.”

  That got Brock’s attention. He glanced up at us with a perplexed look. “What is it with you people and that song, anyway?”

  “‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’?” I asked.

  “No.” He shook his head. “‘Amazing Grace.’ You were singing it in the car the other morning on the way home from jail, and the bird sings it all day long. Is that the only song your family knows?”

  “Pretty much.” I grinned. “Unless you count all of those Dean Martin songs coming from Laz’s room. Or the Sinatra tunes Rosa plays all day. But even they don’t compare.” I turned to Rosa and shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re right.” Rosa looked up from her recipe box. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Ol’ Blue Eyes. I’d marry him today if he asked me.”

  “Which would be tough, since he’s currently crooning his tunes from the great beyond,” D.J. whispered.

  “But even Sinatra at his finest can’t touch me like the words to ‘Amazing Grace’ can.” Rosa lifted her apron and dabbed her eyes. “There’s something about those words. They’ve stood the test of time.”

  She held us all spellbound with her dissertation on the song. I’d seen Rosa worked up before, but not like this.

  Turning to Brock, she offered up an explanation. “See, I was just a little girl from Napoli who never really knew where she fit in.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Brock said, offering her a sympathetic smile.

  “No, it’s true. I wasn’t pretty like so many of the girls, especially like my sister Imelda. But I always knew the Lord loved me anyway, despite any flaws.”

  “You were just a kid.” Brock shrugged. “He wouldn’t be much of a God if he didn’t love an innocent kid. Right?”

  “Yes, but here’s my point.” She leaned her elbows on the island and looked into Brock’s eyes. “I’m still his kid all these years later. And I still have flaws. But he loves me just the way I am. He’s not like a man. I don’t have to get all fancied up to impress him. It’s his grace …” Rosa’s eyes filled with tears. “Well, it’s that grace that frees me up to be who I was called to be. It’s that grace that reminds me I’m his child. If not for that grace, I wouldn’t be here. Life is just too hard.”

  You could’ve heard a pin drop. I’d heard a lot of sermons in my life, but none like this. Rosa’s words cut straight to the heart. Brock rose from his seat and began to pace the room. For a minute no one spoke a word.

  “So …” He finally broke the silence. “That part about being lost and then found …”

  We all looked at him, but no one interrupted.

  “I’m not saying I really think I’m lost. But if I did, how would I go about getting found again?”

  “You’d have to do the very thing that’s the hardest to do— put your trust in someone other than yourself,” I said. “And you don’t have to worry about fixing anything yourself. He wants you … just like you are.”

  “So I guess that whole karma thing has to go right out the window if all of this stuff is to be believed.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was trying to say the other day. If we could save ourselves, that would be one thing. But we can’t.”

  “And there’s no point in trying,” D.J. added. “We’re totally dependent on God, which is what makes the grace part so important. He does for us what we can’t do for ourselves.”

  “I’m telling you, this would never fly in Hollywood.” Brock continued to pace. “But there’s something about all of you that’s …”

  “ Different?” Rosa asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Yeah.” Brock paused, then smiled. “But in a good way. In a way that makes me want to rethink the last twenty-eight years of my life. You know what I mean?”

  “I know what you mean.” Rosa reached over and touched his arm, such a gentle gesture that it took me by surprise. She really was softening lately.

  Brock walked over to Guido’s cage and stared him down. To his credit, Guido did a pretty good job of staring back. Then the most amazing thing happened. Without even being prompted, Guido began to sing “Amazing Grace” once again. When he got to the words, “I once was lost, but now am found,” he paused, then continued his stare down with Brock.

  If that didn’t convince a guy, nothing would.

  35

  The Good Life

  Less than five minutes after Guido’s final rendition of “Amazing Grace,” Brock fell to pieces right in front of us. He told us everything—about his childhood, his journey out of the pit he’d lived in with his mother, the eventual move to Los Angeles … everything. We let him talk, knowing it was the best thing for him, what with confession being so good for the soul and all. Besides, this was his testimony, and I had a feeling he’d be using it a lot from now on.

  When he finally paused to take a breath, Brock turned to D.J. “What do I need to do?”

  “Do? Hmm.” D.J. paused, a reflective look on his face. “Well, you can start by just having a conversation with God like you’ve had with us. You’re going to find that he’s really easy to talk to.”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue how to do that.”

  Over the next couple of minutes, D.J. talked Brock through the basic plan of salvation in layman’s terms. No sermonizing. I’d never been prouder of my sweetie. And when Brock bowed his head to pray, the whole room grew silent. Even Guido seemed to fall under the spell of the holy hush.

  My heart thumped madly as all of this transpired. Somehow God had taken the chaos of the last few days and used it for his glory. You did it, Lord. You really did it. Why had I ever doubted? And how wonderful to see the role D.J. had played in all of this. He had such a natural way about him. No preaching. No condemnation. Just a simple, honest conversation with a life-altering message attached. I had so much to learn from him.

  As I turned to face Brock, I found myself unable to hold back my tears. “I’m so excited for you. This is going to change … well, everything.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But I’m not sure where to start. There’s got to be something I can do.” He paced the room.

  “Something you can do?” I asked. “You’ve already done it, Brock. You’ve asked Jesus to be the Lord of your life. That’s the best decision you’ll ever make.”

  “I know, but now that I’ve done that, I feel like there’s something more he has for me. Remember that stuff you told me about putting others first? I’ve had it backwards all
along. It’s time to change that. It’s not about me, is it?”

  “Well, you’re supposed to love others as you love yourself,” I said. “So I suppose it would be impossible to love others if you didn’t love yourself first.”

  “Trust me, I’ve spent a lifetime loving myself.” He shook his head. “But I get the feeling that needs to change. I can’t just say I’m a Christian and not do anything. You know? For one thing, I’ll have to turn down the role I’ve just been offered in that next movie. Totally not the kind of message I want to send to people, now that I’m …” He looked at me and quirked a brow. “What is it I am again?”

  “You could call it any number of things—born again or saved being at the top of the list,” D.J. said. “But I think I would just say you’re a Christian. You’re a believer in Christ.”

  “Okay. I’m a Christian. Good enough.” Brock continued to pace, finally turning to me. “Bella, I have a lot of money.”

  “Right. I know. I mean, well, I figured … I don’t really know anything about your finances.”

  “I’m always giving to charities to make myself look good, but I’ll have to reconsider some of that. Saving the whales isn’t exactly the theme of my life. Helping people … now that’s more along the lines of what I’d like to do. How can I help people, Bella?” He took a seat on the sofa next to me with a pensive look on his face. “Where do I start?”

  “Hang on a minute.” I flashed a smile. “Deep breath, Brock. You don’t have to figure out all of this in an instant.”

  “You’re right.” He exhaled, but I could still see the worry lines etched on his brow.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “I’m leaving soon, but I have so many questions. Could I call you … or D.J.? Would that be okay?”

  “Of course. And don’t forget about Rob. Once he gets back from his honeymoon, I mean.” I grinned.

  “Right, right.”

  We spent the next couple of hours answering Brock’s questions, my heart racing all the while. At the end of it, he couldn’t seem to hold back his enthusiasm. The more he heard about living for Christ, the more he felt he needed— wanted—a project.