by Krista McGee
“I thought you already wrote your music.”
“I do.” Chad leaned back in his chair. “I mean, write the stuff I’ll be performing. Be a part of the whole artistic experience.”
Jonathon shook his head. “Artistic experience? ”
“Don’t laugh, dude.”
“Sorry.” Jonathon cleared his throat.
“You like editing, right?”
Jonathon nodded.
“That’s artistic.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jonathon said. “It takes a lot of work. But I don’t know if it’s art.”
“Sure it is. You decide what clips to show and which to throw away. You pick music to play underneath. I’ve seen some of your stuff, remember? You’re good.”
Jonathon sighed. “Thanks, man, but it doesn’t matter. It’s just a hobby. I’m destined for politics.”
“Says who?”
Jonathon lowered his voice, looking back at Bull, who was sitting at the table behind them, reading the paper. “My dad. I’m expected to study law, practice for a few years, then run for some kind of office. Just like he did.”
“But is that what God wants you to do?”
“Doesn’t God want me to obey my parents?” Jonathon asked.
Chad nodded. “But God’s will trumps your parents’.”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“Have you ever really talked to them about it?” Chad knew Jonathon’s parents loved their son deeply, and he doubted they really wanted him to pursue a career he didn’t want to pursue.
“No,” Jonathon answered quickly. “I don’t need to. It’s just a given.”
“Maybe they think it’s what you want to do.”
“What?”
Chad leaned forward. “My parents own an orange grove. Quite a successful grove, one that’s been in the family for three generations.”
“I know.” Jonathon’s face was blank. “I’ve been there, remember?”
“I’m their only child. For three generations, the fathers have passed the grove down to their sons.”
“You were supposed to run your family’s business.” Understanding dawned on Jonathon’s face.
“Right. But from the time I was ten or eleven, I knew that wasn’t for me. I loved growing up there, don’t get me wrong. And there’s nothing in the world I love more than the smell of orange blossoms. It’s in my blood. But having that be my life . . . that’s just not in me.”
“But if you don’t take over, what will happen?” Jonathon asked.
“I worried about that for years. I felt like I had to take it over. So I wrote songs and sang and hoped that doing that in my bedroom for the rest of my life would be enough.”
“So how’d you end up on America’s Next Star?”
Chad gazed back out at the water. “I didn’t even know about the show.”
“Right.” Jonathon smiled. “No TV.”
“But when I was fifteen, I felt like God was telling me I needed to talk with my parents about how I felt. So I did.”
Jonathon leaned in, his elbows on the table. “Were they mad?”
“They were more upset that I had waited so long to tell them than that I felt the way I did.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Chad looked at his friend. “They said God would take care of the groves, and that if he had something else for me, then I should go for it. They were the ones who found out about the auditions in the first place.”
“Wow.”
“You should talk to your parents,” Chad concluded.
“But what if they don’t respond well?”
“Do you believe God wants you to be a politician? ” Chad asked.
“No,” Jonathon said, exhaling.
“Then trust God to help your parents see that too. Give them a chance.”
“That’s not going to be easy.”
“Neither was white-water rafting.” Chad motioned to the window. “But you survived that.”
“Barely.” Jonathon laughed. His phone chimed, and he pulled it from his back pocket.
“Addy?” Chad smiled.
“Yes.” Jonathon’s face turned red.
“Tell her I said hi.” Chad sipped his coffee.
Bull, who had just come to stand beside their table, said, “Me too.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jonathon continued texting.
“How’s Kara?” Chad asked.
“That was smooth, boy.” Bull grinned and pulled a chair to the head of the table.
“What?” Chad asked.
“Aw, come on now. I saw you looking at that girl last week. Sitting next to her, asking about her family, holding the door open. Don’t try to act all shy now. We all know you’re not shy.”
“I just asked how she’s doing. That’s all.”
“You forget I live with Jonathon.” Bull laughed. “I’ve heard all that before.”
“But she lives in New York. I live in Florida. The fact that we met was just a coincidence.”
“Do we believe in coincidences, Mr. Jackson?”
“No, sir.” Jonathon smiled and laid his phone on the table. “We do not.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Chad shook his head. “She may be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Ever. With perfect hair and the creamiest skin on the planet. With a great sense of humor. And almost as tall as me in heels . . .”
“But?” Jonathon looked at his friend.
“She’s not a Christian, so I’ve got to stop thinking about her.”
“Uh-huh.” Bull snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“No kidding.” Chad sighed.
“What is it you’ve been telling me, Chad? God has a plan for everything, right?”
“Yeah,” Chad said. “And for everyone.”
“So we’ll keep praying for Kara, that she sees God’s plan for her.”
“Thanks, man.”
“And I’ll pray for you too.” Jonathon smiled at Chad. “I think you need it.”
Chapter 13
Emergency McKormick family meeting now in session,” Joey announced in true lawyer fashion. His love for the profession had begun when he initiated McKormick family meetings over two decades before. Trials were held over who ate the last Popsicle in the freezer, who forgot to flush, and who was spying out the window when the girls were getting good-night kisses on the porch. The tradition had waned in the last few years, but Kara’s dilemma brought all her siblings over and Joey’s gavel back on the table.
“Kara, please rise.” Joey motioned in a mock judge-like manner.
“Joey, this is serious.”
“This is the most serious McKormick case to date.” Joey’s hands emphasized his words. “New York or Orlando. Broadway or TV. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the fate of a teenage girl is in your hands.”
“Enough, Judge Joseph.” Kara grabbed one of her mother’s sandwiches and stuffed it in his mouth. “All right, here’s the deal. You all know I’m in the top ten to audition for a show in Orlando.”
“That’s right, sweetie.” Ma handed Joey a napkin.
“And I’m supposed to get on a plane for Orlando this afternoon.”
“Yes, so let’s move this along.” Sam looked at his watch. “All in favor of Kara staying in New York, raise your hand.”
“Sam.” Kara shoved her brother’s hand down. “You need to know all the facts.”
“Go ahead.” Sam folded his arms and sat on the couch. “But I already know I’d rather have you fifty miles away than a thousand miles away.”
“Sammy, this isn’t about what you want.” Mary looked at Kara and smiled. “This is a big deal. Come on, Kara. Give us the details on each of the opportunities.”
“Mr. Sands is a Broadway producer, and he is casting a new musical that will star a teenage girl.”
“The magnificent Kara McKormick.” Sam clapped.
She glared at him until he stopped applauding. “Anyway, he’s
having auditions for this part on TV, with people voting each week for their favorite. At the end of six weeks, America will choose the star of the show, kind of like on The Book of Love.”
“And when do those auditions start?” Mary asked.
“They start Monday with twenty girls,” Kara said. “There are two weeks of rehearsals, and then the show starts.”
“The show starts in two weeks, and they’re just calling you now?” ever-practical Patrick asked.
“No, a girl got hurt and dropped out, and they called me because I’m already here in New York.”
“Hey, that’s what happened with the guy on the dancing show,” Mary said. “And he ended up winning. Remember? ”
“That’s true. I forgot about him.”
“Which will be you.” Sam winked at Kara. Kara was not amused.
Mary leaned forward. “But the Orlando auditions are for a TV show, and the winner will be chosen by . . . ?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” Kara shrugged. “One of the directors, I guess.”
“But not us?”
“No, those auditions won’t air until right before the show premieres in October. The star will already be chosen.”
Joey tossed his gavel from one hand to another. “So, why have these auditions in July if the show doesn’t start until October?”
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. “Because, genius, they prerecord those shows.”
“How did I know they weren’t live? She did say it was like a teen version of Saturday Night Live. Emphasis on the live.”
“Yous both need to be quiet.” Pop waved the boys back down to their seats. “The point is both of these are great opportunities for Kara, but they are at the exact same time and neither will let her do both. It’s gotta be one or the other.”
Patrick, an accountant, held up a hand. “You got twenty girls competing for one spot here in New York, and only ten in Orlando. Your odds are better in Orlando.”
“But the New York auditions are won or lost by viewers, and Kara already has fans,” Mary said. “She made it to the top three in The Book of Love. All the folks who voted for that will be voting for this one too.”
“All of them?” Patrick asked.
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I know, but it’s still twice as many competitors.”
“Stop!” Ma rarely raised her voice, but when she did, her kids got quiet and listened. “This isn’t about the odds. Kara can win this one or that one, doesn’t matter about numbers or fans. Kara, you gotta choose the one you want.”
“Ma’s right,” Joey said. “When you were describing the two shows, your eyes lit up when you talked about Orlando.”
“They did,” Mary agreed.
“But what if I’d have a better chance at winning the show here?”
“Which would you regret more?” Sam held Kara’s hand.
“I’d regret not going for the show in Orlando.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts,’ ” Ma said. “We had enough of those. The Buts and the Ands, remember me telling you about that? ”
The siblings all smiled.
“You wanna be on TV, then you should try to be on TV.” Pop stood behind the couch and rubbed Kara’s shoulders. “Go for it.”
Kara looked around the room. “You sure?”
“Of course not.” Patrick laughed. “But you have to take risks every once in a while.”
“So the jury is unanimous with its verdict?” Joey asked.
Her brothers and sisters each picked up a pillow and threw it at his face.
“Well then,” Joey mumbled under the pile of pillows, “court is adjourned.”
Chapter 14
So the house is super boring.” Kara eased herself into the seat at the deep end of the pool. The hot July sun was only bearable while immersed in water. “But this pool totally makes up for it.”
Kara had called Addy as soon as she arrived in Orlando. The few girls who had gotten there before her were out on a shopping spree, according to the note left on the refrigerator. The rest, Kara supposed, were still flying in.
“So it’s not The Mansion, huh?” Addy’s voice sounded strange when on speakerphone.
“The outside is yellow stucco. One story. I was really hoping for one of those big old Florida homes with the wraparound porches and the shutters and all that. This one is big, but there’s nothing special. No history.”
“No trailers?” Addy laughed. When the two roomed together on The Book of Love, they lived in trailers because The Mansion in central Tennessee, where the show was filmed, was too old to allow for thirty girls to pad around in its two-hundred-year-old halls.
“No, we’ll be living here.”
“All ten of you?”
“And the housemother,” Kara said.
“It must be big.”
“Six bedrooms, each with its own bath.” Kara floated backward and began treading water.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, but every bedroom looks the same. All browns and creams. This place has no personality. I hope it’s not an omen. Maybe I made the wrong choice? I should have gone for the Broadway show.”
“Are you seriously second-guessing yourself based on interior design?” Addy asked.
Kara swam back to the pool seat and sighed. “Stupid, right? I just can’t stop thinking about it. If I lose this, I’m always going to wonder if I could have won that one.”
“But if you went there and lost it, you would have wondered about this show, right?”
“Exactly.”
“So you’ll just have to win this one so you won’t have any regrets.”
“Of course.” Kara got out of the pool and dried herself with a large cream towel. “Easy as pie.”
Kara heard the front door open. “Some of the girls are here. I’d better go.”
“I’m praying for you,” Addy said.
“You know what?” Kara wrapped the towel around her lean body. “I’ll take it.”
“Wow, is this all they can afford?” an annoyingly familiar voice drawled from the living room. “When I was on The Book of Love, we lived in a mansion.”
“It must have been great to live there,” another girl answered.
“Sure was,” the first girl said. “Too bad I didn’t make it all the way.”
“I heard Jonathon didn’t even like the girl who won.”
“Lila? No. He took her to prom, but that was it. I heard he didn’t even kiss her good night.”
“Wow, all that and not even a kiss. I guess you’re glad you didn’t win that date.”
“Sure am.”
“And now he’s dating that girl Addy?”
“That’s what I hear, but I don’t know why.”
Kara turned the corner into the living room. “Well, if it isn’t Anna Grace.”
Looking like a teen Reese Witherspoon with her tiny frame and blond bob, Anna Grace Austen appeared sweet and innocent. But Kara knew better.
“Kara McKormick,” said a Hispanic girl with long, shiny black curls and curves Kim Kardashian would envy. “What, is this a Book of Love reunion?”
“Well, I guess so, Miss Haley. But where’s little Addy? ” Anna Grace drawled. “You girls go everywhere together, don’t you, Kara?”
“Actually, I just got off the phone with her.”
“She’s not auditioning?”
“Addy?” Kara laughed. “Do you not know her at all?”
“No, I don’t,” Anna Grace said. “She was too good for the likes of us, remember?”
“She didn’t want to gossip with you, you mean.”
“Girls,” a third girl, with dark brown hair pulled into a long ponytail, interrupted. “New day, new show. I’m Ava, by the way.”
“Kara.” Holding her hand out to Ava, Kara smiled at the petite brunette.
“Don’t get sucked in by her,” Anna Grace said. “That girl just attaches herself to who
ever she thinks is going to win.”
“I am friends with people who are genuine.” Kara walked up to Anna Grace.
“Well then, you can just genuinely get out of my way because this show can only have one star, and that’s me.”
This is stupid. I’m not going to get into it with her. It’s not worth it. This is exactly what Ma doesn’t want me to be.
Kara turned to walk away.
“That’s right,” Anna Grace said, walking behind her. “Just go back to your room, tail between your legs. Loser.”
Kara kept walking. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it.
A hand on Kara’s shoulder stopped her.
“I don’t want to get into an argument with you, okay? ” Kara turned around to see a tiny woman staring up at her. Her hair was purple and spiked, her shirt was neon green with paint splatters, and her stirrup pants were purple with polka dots.
“I’m not one of them,” the woman said. “I am Flora, the housemother. I wanted to see if you needed any help.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kara said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just—”
Flora put a hand up. “I know. I heard. Think of me as Miss Temple in Jane Eyre. I’m on your side, and I’m not going to believe the horrible things people say about you. Unless you prove them right, of course.”
“I saw that movie in class last year.” Kara nodded. “It was good.”
“The book is even better.” Flora smiled, revealing a gap between her front teeth.
Kara glanced down at the suitcases in Flora’s hands. “Hey, can I help you? Those look heavy.”
Kara grabbed the suitcase on the right. She could barely lift it. “What’s in here? Rocks?”
“Books.” Flora hefted her remaining suitcase and the two walked down the hall to Flora’s room. “But I’m supposed to be helping you.”
“Oh, there will be plenty of time for that, I’m sure.”
“Well, thank you . . . ?”
“Oh, sorry. My name’s Kara. Kara McKormick.”
“Very nice to meet you, Kara. Irish?”
“How’d you guess?” Kara laughed.
“Typically, last names that begin with Mc denote an Irish etymology. Not to mention that redheads are often associated with Ireland. Wait, you were being sarcastic, weren’t you?”