Ethan’s mind flashed instantly to the night on the deck of the ocean view cabin. The night Ted led them in such an awesome prayer. What was it he’d said regarding Ethan?
"Lord we pray you will be the central focus as we’re trying to figure out what kind of people we will choose to become. "
Ethan had never forgotten his words.
This was Ethan’s moment. This was his time to choose what he was to become. Was he going to be some little puppet on a string controlled by Hollywood idealism or would he choose to be his own person? Make his own decisions? Do only what he knew in his heart was the right thing to do?
His mind flashed to Alaina. Beautiful, strong-willed, stubborn, adorable Ali. Would he choose to trust God enough to not rely on lies to win his battles for him?
He knew what he had to do.
Ethan stood up a little taller, turned his focus back toward the gawking reporters, and took a deep breath.
“The truth is . . .” he began again. “The truth is that I never had laryngitis.” Ethan heard Bruce’s gasp over the sound of the fanatically clicking camera flashes. “The truth is that I got a little carried away with fame and made some bad decisions. I had to take a few weeks off to regain my focus and learn a few lessons.”
The buzz of questioning came all at once. Ethan went to quiet the reporters one last time in order to explain everything, but as they calmed, Bruce ran up on stage and practically pushed Ethan away from the microphone.
“I’m sorry everyone!” he called to the chaotic crowd, having difficulty pulling off the fake smile he’d previously flashed. “My boy here has had a long day and I’m afraid we’re going to have to call it a night!”
In that moment, Ethan realized that it was all or nothing. He wasn’t going to be able to keep one leg in Bruce’s world and one leg in his own. It was time to make a choice. A passage from Luke that he and his mom had read only that morning flashed into his memory. Jesus said that anyone who doesn’t give up everything he has for Him cannot be His disciple. Ethan had questioned himself while reading that passage. He’d wondered if he would ever be presented with that situation—if he would ever have to choose between living his dream or serving God. It seemed God wasn’t giving him much time to prepare an answer.
Ethan braced a foot and gave Bruce a little shove, taking back his position at the microphone. “Actually, before we wrap this up, I’ve got an announcement to make.” Ethan placed a hand over the microphone, muting his next words as he turned to Bruce, their faces only inches apart. “Bruce, I know who has my best interest at heart, and buddy, it’s not you.” With that he removed his hand and faced the reporters once more.
“I would like to announce that as of this moment, I am officially no longer a client of the Bruce McCloud Agency or any of its affiliates.”
A reporter in front screamed loudest. “Ethan Carter, what are you saying?!”
Ethan smiled the first real smile he’d felt since those long nights in Fairhope, and for possibly the first time in his entire life, he felt peace. He was being obedient. He wasn’t being a coward. He was being the person that he wanted to be, not the person that was chosen for him. “I’m saying . . . I quit.”
Once again, the chaotic room erupted in flashes and screamed questioning. Ethan didn’t bother to stick around. He turned toward Bruce, gave him a swift pat on the back, and said, “They’re all yours now. Drive it home, kid.”
Bruce’s mouth gaped open and Ethan exited the stage to rants of “You don’t know what you’ve done! I’ll ruin you!” and “You’ll regret this, you pompous little teenage . . . !”
Ethan dismissed Bruce’s temper tantrum and bolted for the door before the reporters could get it completely blocked, but he didn’t quite make it fast enough. The cameras and microphones closed in on all sides. Ethan jerked his head side to side, trying to find a way out, about to resort to dropping to his knees and crawling through legs to the door, when he felt a hand enclose around his arm. Before he could tell who it was, he was being drug toward the door. Once there, he was flung into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind him. The hand on his arm never released as Ethan was tugged down the hallway.
Finally having a moment to breathe, Ethan peered to his arm, noticing the ebony color of the hand of his rescuer.
“Ted!”
Ted released Ethan’s arm and Ethan continued to run after him down the hall. Reporters were exiting the banquet room now and running after them in pursuit of a fuller story. Ethan had to admit, he’d defiantly given them a lot to write about.
“Ted, what are you doing? You heard what I just did in there. You could lose your job for helping me!”
Ted smiled, his white teeth shining brightly as they continued to run. “I heard what you said. And that is precisely why I am helping, Mr. Carter. Anyone who shows as much guts as you just did deserves to be helped.”
Sounded good to Ethan. Anything to get him away from those cameras. “So where are we going?”
“I’ve got a secret car parked not far from here.” Ted grinned at Ethan’s glance of curiosity. “It never hurts to have a backup plan, Mr. Carter.”
Ethan caught his breath and let out a laugh. “Wow, you’re good.”
A loud bang resounded in the hall behind them as a few of the more persistent reporters found the latest door in which Ted and Ethan had bolted through.
“Uh . . . Ted . . .”
“Don’t worry! We’re here!” Ted raced Ethan down one last hall. There was a heavy metal door at the very end. When they reached it, Ted pushed the handle and busted them through to the outside. They were in an underground garage of sorts where only a few cars were parked. Ethan slammed the door completely shut behind him and ran after Ted toward a black Lincoln parked next to the lot exit.
“Where are we?” Ethan called out.
“Private parking deck,” Ted answered. “Security staff only.”
“Ted, you’re a genius!” They were about half way to the car when Ethan had a terrible thought. “What about my mom?! She doesn’t have any security with her. If the reporters find her, they’ll mob her with questions and she doesn’t even know what I did back there!”
“Don’t worry, I told your mom I’d bring you home after the press conference. She has already left for your apartment. She’s waiting for you there.” Ted clicked a button on the remote key chain and the car roared to life. When they reached it, Ted pointed to the back seat. “Get in and duck down.”
Ethan did as he was told and Ted jumped into the driver’s seat, yanking the shifter into drive. Ethan did risk one last peek out the window to see the reporters bust into the garage just as Ted exited the parking deck and pulled out into the busy New York City side street.
As Ted maneuvered the Lincoln down one street after another, somehow finding a way to make better time than the taxis, Ethan couldn’t help but feel a bout of guilt for all of the risks and sacrifices Ted had made for him.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this, man,” Ethan voiced from his hiding spot in the back floor board. “You just gave up your job for me.”
Ted snickered. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Carter. I’ve got other connections in the music industry besides Bruce McCloud. There’s always another job where that one came from. In fact, if it’s okay, I was thinking about sticking with you for a while.”
“Sticking with me?” Ethan laughed. “After tonight, I’m pretty sure my music career is over. Bruce will make certain of that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Ted held an amused tone.
“Ted, do you know something I don’t know?” Ethan asked.
“It’s not what I know, Mr. Carter. It’s who I know,” Ted said. “My brother. He’s a producer for one of the biggest inspirational production companies in the country. And don’t get mad, but I took your little black book of songs the other day during your rehearsals and made copies to send to him. He loves your lyrics and wants to meet with you.”
Eth
an couldn’t believe his ears or his excitement. “What are you getting at, Ted?”
Ted laughed. “Well, to put it simply, Mr. Carter, have you ever considered a career in Christian music?”
Chapter 26
Alaina
The intense summer sun beat down through the driver’s side glass and Alaina raised her forearm to wipe her brow. It would be on the hottest day of summer that the air-conditioner in her parent’s worn out car would decide to quit producing cold air, and make a strange grinding, clicking noise instead. But that was just typical, Alaina thought to herself. Chaos and misdirection was the story of her life these past few months.
Not only had the ambitious attempt to attend her senior year of high school been a complete bust from day one, but now, even as a high school dropout working double shifts at the restaurant and spending next to no time with Ben, she still wasn’t making any headway on the medical bills. Of course, Granny Mae had offered to help, but Alaina knew that Granny was living on retirement alone. Mae had already opened up her home to Alaina, and there was no way Alaina was going to allow Mae to worry about any finances other than her own.
But it seemed the longer Ben held on and fought his fatal disease, the more complicated and more expensive things became. Not that Alaina cared, of course. She just wanted her brother. But it was becoming harder and harder to bear watching his bitter struggle for life. This fight was such a double edged sword. In one respect, Alaina wanted nothing but more time with her brother. But in another, she wanted nothing but for him to find some kind of relief from the pain, even if that meant the unthinkable.
Ben’s oncologist, Dr. Rouse, had said at the last appointment that the cancer was attached to most of Ben’s major organs now and it was basically a waiting game at this point. Alaina had spent a lot of time under the secret staircase that day.
Alaina looked out across the sandy beach that ran parallel to the Fairhope main road and heaved a sigh. Work had been extremely slow that day, hardly even making it worth her time to show up, and the beautiful pink ocean horizon that stretched out before her was nothing but a taunt to her haywire emotions. She wondered what it would be like to just lay out on that beach; to watch her brother play in the water, smiling and full of life; to see her parents walking hand in hand in the tide; to simply be . . . happy. Alaina had been faithful in her relationship with God. She still read her Bible daily. She still prayed constantly. And God provided her with the peace of understanding. Alaina understood that her parents were gone. She didn’t like it, but she accepted it. Alaina understood that Ben was in the midst of a battle that he simply was not going to win. She didn’t like it, but she accepted it.
But that didn’t make it any easier.
Alaina wondered what it would feel like to be happy again. She remembered having laughed before, but it was only a distant memory, and not an action that she’d managed in quite some time. She wiped at a drop of sweat escaping from her hairline and thought back to the last time she’d truly felt happy—a time that she rarely allowed to surface in her memory.
It was hard to believe that an entire year had passed since those late nights in the garden, talking and laughing. Those enchanted kisses underneath the Mobile Bay skyline. She remembered his perfectly placed brunette locks and wondered if he’d allowed them to go back to their original blonde by now. Alaina knew she easily could have looked him up on the internet—there would be a billion pictures there—but she’d never allowed herself. Somehow, she knew seeing his face would make her regret her decision.
The night of their separation still stung in her mind with a residual persistence. The sight of him kissing Vanessa had been more than she could handle. It’d been at that moment that Alaina realized she’d become too attached. Her relationship with Ethan was supposed to have been a mere distraction from her current crisis, but had quickly turned into much more than that. Ethan had not only stolen all of her time, but he’d also stolen her heart, and as much as she hated to admit it, he’d taken it with him when he left.
Not that she blamed him for leaving. She’d told him to go, after all, and wasn’t surprised when he’d chosen to listen to her. And as much as it still hurt, she knew it was for the best. Ethan didn’t belong in her world. He’d said he loved her. Loved her. The words still played over and over in an occasional dream. Even if that were true, Alaina couldn’t have allowed Ethan to love her because, truth be known, she loved him right back. As much as she didn’t want to admit it. As much as she hated herself for even allowing her heart to be put on the line in the first place, she knew there was no fighting it. She loved Ethan Carter with everything in her being, and that was exactly why she had to let him go.
Ethan looked to Alaina as an escape from his busy lifestyle. She was his vacation. But all vacations have to come to an end. Eventually, everyone has to return to reality and continue on with their lives as normal. Ethan had a life and it wasn’t in Fairhope. He had a career and it wasn’t being her crutch. She couldn’t allow him to feel obligated to become a part of her mess and feel somehow responsible for fixing it because he wanted her to be happy. He was much better off thinking she never wanted to see him again and going on with his future. He had way too much going for him to be slowed down by some girl that was just around at a time of vulnerability.
Now that Alaina knew Ethan’s true reason for visiting Fairhope, she realized why he’d wanted so badly to remake himself into a new person while he was there with her. It went so much deeper than just his hair. After all of their conversations, the things that Ethan had opened up to her about, she knew now that he’d been searching for something. Meaning and answers. She remembered a time when she’d done the same thing, and wherever Ethan was now, she hoped that he’d found his answers. And if not—if he’d decided to return to the life of drunken forgetfulness—she just prayed that God would protect him until he woke up and remembered.
Lost in thought, Alaina almost missed her turn for home. She swerved around the corner of the deserted intersection, completely ignoring the large red octagon—but somehow managing to find the curb with the back passenger side tire.
The car grinded along the protruding concrete and Alaina let out a slight squeal, jerking the wheel to the side in attempts to free the car. The car bumped back down to the pavement and Alaina let out a slow sigh, relieved that she hadn’t managed to sideswipe a mailbox, or worse, a person. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then pressed back down on the gas to resume her drive home.
That’s when she heard the noise—a loud pop followed by a low hiss as though someone was deflating a balloon in her right ear. It only took a matter of seconds for Alaina to realize what had happened when she began to hear the sound of rubber flapping against the pavement and felt the up and down motion of the no-longer-balanced vehicle.
The tire was blown.
Alaina hit the brake, threw the gear shift into park, and fell back against the seat. Her hands went to her head and she ran one through her sweaty hair with more aggression than truly necessary. What else?, she thought with a huff.
She wrenched the door open, popped the trunk latch, and stomped to the back of the car. Wiping another bead of sweat, she pulled on her long dark hair, and rewrapped it back up into a messy ponytail. Upon viewing the contents of the trunk—the spare tire, the jack, a portable air tank, and a bag of tools—an inconvenient truth reared its ugly head.
She didn’t have the faintest idea how to change a tire.
Oh well, no better way to learn than when under pressure, she decided. She was reaching in to pull the spare out when a loud engine came to a roaring halt behind her. She knew that truck. Had spent many a regrettable night riding in it with a regrettable ex-boyfriend. And as he exited the driver’s side, dressed in nothing but a pair of Hawaiian-print swim trunks, a pair of Bilibong flip flops, and a narcissistic grin, Alaina wondered how much damage she’d cause by just forgetting about the tire and driving the car home right then on the rim.
“Flat tire, I see.”
Cam’s voice sent shivers up her spine. She flashed back to the night she’d spent on the beach with Ethan. The night Cam had revealed her secrets through a very drunken display of masculinity.
Alaina smirked. “Wow, you’re observant.”
“Ouch. What’s with the hostility?”
“The fact that you even have to ask that question should be answer enough.”
Cam was at the trunk now. “Move over, Ali. Let me get that spare for you.”
She didn’t budge. “My name is Alaina.” She took a step in front of Cam, blocking his way to the spare, and reached in. “I got this, Cam. I don’t need your help.”
He gave a slight snicker. “Oh really?” He reached in and grabbed a long metal rod with an S bend in the middle and hexagonal indentions on both ends. “Well then, why don’t you tell me what this is called?”
Alaina’s mouth formed into a thin line. She opened it, but nothing came out.
Cam’s brow turned up, a play of amusement gleamed in his eye. “Uh-huh. Can you at least tell me what it’s used for?”
Once again, Alaina was at a loss. The best she could come up with was, “It turns those big screw things on the tires.”
“They’re called nuts,” Cam said. “And sometimes they’re really hard to turn, so just move over, drop the I-can-do-everything-myself bit for five minutes, and let me help you.”
Alaina remained unmoving, eyes locked with Cam’s. She’d forgotten how blue they could be and how long his lashes were. Finally, deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, and that dealing with Cam for ten minutes was worth getting home before dark, she took a begrudged step out of his way.
“There ya go,” he coaxed. He reached into the trunk and pulled the spare tire out in one swift heave. He bent over and rolled it to the side of the car, propping it against the passenger side door. He returned promptly for the rod thing—a tire iron he later called it—an air pump, and a jack.
Redemption Song Page 21