by Debby Mayne
She blinked as she stared back at him. He kissed her hand again and instructed the driver to hurry a little faster.
Throughout the evening, as people hugged and patted her, Shannon felt like she was living someone else’s life. None of the chatter seemed significant to her. It was all about who was doing what and where they were going. There was no discussion of any relevance to her as a Christian. She could only imagine what Jesus would do in this room. That thought brought a smile to her lips.
“You look positively gorgeous,” Armand said as he offered her a glass of sparkling water. “Everyone’s thrilled you’re back in town.”
She smiled back at him and took a sip of her water. More than anything, she wanted the comfort of her friends who didn’t care what she looked like.
“Armand?” she asked slowly.
At first, he didn’t respond, but when she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, he turned to her. “Yes?”
“Do you ever think about eternity?”
He let out a nervous chuckle. “Not much. It’s hard enough to worry about the here and now.”
“I’m not talking about worry. I’m talking about …”
He winked. “I know where you’re going with this. We can discuss our plans for the future when I get back.”
She started to correct him and mention how her whole perspective had changed—how she now thought about her life in relation to her walk in the faith. But he’d already turned around and gotten into a conversation about the latest men’s hairstyling product he was promoting. This obviously wasn’t the time or place to discuss eternity with Jesus.
When Shannon began to yawn, Armand smiled. “I’m tired, too. We can leave in a few minutes if you want.”
With a nod, Shannon replied, “That would be nice.”
They were on their way to Shannon’s building half an hour later. Armand walked her to the door, where the doorman pretended not to be listening.
“It’s wonderful having you here with me, Shannon. I look forward to a long career and life together.”
“But … “
He lifted a finger and held it to her lips to shush her. “I know, it’s going to be hard being apart for the next several weeks, but it’ll be good for both of us. We’ll have time to think about the time ahead.”
He left her with the doorman and got back into the limo before Shannon had a chance to respond. He lowered the window, blew her a kiss, and waved before the car sped off.
Once inside her apartment, she stepped out of her shoes, leaned against the wall, and rubbed her aching feet. It had been months since she’d worn high heels.
Shannon felt like talking to someone who understood. She glanced at the clock on the mantle and realized she’d have to wait until morning to call Janie, who was probably in bed, sound asleep by now.
After setting her clock and slipping into her nightclothes, Shannon reached for the Bible she’d brought to New York. Settling under the covers, she opened to the book of Matthew, where she often found comfort. She read chapter nine over and over, taking to heart Jesus’ healing power. He’d healed her physically and emotionally. Now she prayed that she’d be given the strength to do what she knew was right.
If she stayed in New York, she’d need to find a way to stay spiritually grounded. Janie would know what to do.
Shannon closed her Bible, turned off the light, and snuggled down under the covers. Light from the city filtered through her sheers, so the room wasn’t completely dark. She watched the shadows dancing on the wall and listened to the sounds from the street below until her eyelids grew heavy.
The alarm woke her early, before the sun came up. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and trudged to the kitchen, flipping lights on along the way.
When she was fairly certain Janie would be up and almost ready for the day, she reached for the phone in the kitchen and punched in Janie’s number. She answered right away.
At first, Janie sounded excited to hear from her, but after Shannon asked for advice, her voice became cool and distant. “I can’t tell you what to do, Shannon.”
“I’m not asking you what to do. All I want is for you to pray for me.”
“You didn’t have to call to ask for that. I’ve been praying for you nearly all my life.”
When Shannon hung up, she felt even worse than she had before she’d called. The rest of the day, all she could think about was Janie’s attitude. It hurt.
After spending most of the day with Melinda and running a few errands, Shannon went back up to her apartment. No matter how hard she tried to resist calling Judd, she knew she had to hear his voice. He sounded thrilled to hear from her.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Oh, pretty good. I did great on the test shoots.”
“I knew you would. So, when will we see your mug on TV? Anytime soon?”
“I’m not sure. There’s still a bunch of preliminary stuff that has to be done.”
“You don’t sound overjoyed.”
“I’m not, Judd. In fact, I’ve been miserable since I’ve been here. I miss all of you so much, I’m thinking about coming back.”
He let out a chuckle. “You haven’t exactly given it much of a chance. It takes more time than a week or two to get back into the swing of things.”
“But I loved the way things were in Atlanta. I miss the Bible study group. I miss you and Janie and Paul and … “
“Find a group up there. New York is a big place. I’m sure you can connect with a Christian Bible study if you ask around.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Shannon said as her heart fell. She didn’t realize it when she first placed the call, but now she knew she’d been hoping he’d beg—or at least encourage—her to come back.
They chatted for a few minutes, until Judd said he had a parent-teacher conference in an hour and he really needed to go.
“Don’t give up so quickly, Shannon,” he said before they got off the phone. “And if you can’t find a Bible study group, I’ll ask Uncle Garrett if he knows someone. He has friends all over the world. I bet he can hook you up in no time.”
“Thanks, Judd.”
She dropped the phone back into the cradle and leaned back on her elbows. Everything seemed wrong to her.
Miserable, she figured she might as well find a way to entertain herself tonight and then, tomorrow, she’d look for a place to worship on Sunday. It wouldn’t be easy, because none of her acquaintances in New York went to church. Sunday was their day to sleep in, when agents wouldn’t bug them and clients spent time with their families and friends.
The first services Shannon attended were in a small church three blocks away from her apartment building. The preacher was an elderly gentleman whose bifocals kept falling off his nose. The man next to her kept nodding off to sleep, while the woman in the pew directly in front of her struggled to keep up with her two toddlers, who kept trying to climb over the back of the pew. Shannon had a very hard time concentrating on the message.
After church was over, she went up to the pastor and asked about singles’ Bible study classes. Shaking his head, he said, “No, we haven’t tried that here. I’m not sure how it would go over. Maybe …” He squinted as he adjusted his glasses again. “Do I know you from somewhere, Missy? You look awful familiar.”
“No,” Shannon replied, shaking her head and backing away. “I don’t think so. Thanks for the good service, Pastor.” Then she turned and ran out of the church before he figured out who she was and where he’d seen her.
The following Sunday, she went to a different church—this one a little bigger and a little closer to Greenwich Village. The crowd was younger, and the services were more contemporary. Maybe they’d have something similar to what her church in Atlanta had.
When the pastor asked everyone to turn to greet those around them, she shook the woman’s hand behind her and asked if they had singles’ Bible studies. The woman’s eyes widened, she nudged the woman next to her, and they both sque
aled.
“I can’t believe Shannon McNab is actually here!” the second woman said. That got everyone’s attention, and before Shannon realized what had happened, she was signing everyone’s church bulletin.
After church, all the people who hadn’t been sitting close enough to get her autograph were thrusting pieces of paper and pens in her face, scrambling to get her signature. One man even asked her to pose for a picture with his teenage daughter. Shannon did it, then ran out as fast as she could to hail a taxi.
This wasn’t working out. All she wanted was quiet worship on Sunday and a group to study the Bible with. Why was she having so much trouble in New York? It couldn’t be that hard, could it?
Apparently so. The following Sunday was like a repeat of what had already happened. Shannon got to her apartment feeling like she’d been beaten in a very long race.
Armand was scheduled to return later on the next week. Melinda had a welcome-back party scheduled for the day after his arrival. She had always been good about celebrating every event in the lives of her superstars.
Doing as she was told, Shannon was there, waiting. She was one of the dozen people Melinda had invited to her office to greet Armand. He gasped, acting surprised, then crossed over to where Shannon stood. Placing his arm around her shoulders, he leaned over and whispered, “We need to talk.”
Shannon nodded while Melinda grabbed him by the hand and pulled him off to the side to discuss some urgent business. She didn’t keep him long, but it gave Shannon enough time to catch her breath before time to leave.
In the car, on the way to her place, Armand turned to her. “So how were things for you while I was gone?”
Shannon shrugged. “I went to a different church every Sunday.”
He tilted his head back and howled, like she’d told him a very funny joke. She didn’t see the humor in the situation.
Dropping the smile, he said, “You don’t need church, Shannon. Maybe you did after your accident, but things are all better now. You’re modeling again.”
Shannon sat there staring straight ahead as her thoughts tumbled over each other.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy about how things are turning out? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I’m not sure about modeling, but I do know one thing. I love the Lord, and I want to find a church where I can worship Him without feeling like I’m sitting in a fishbowl.”
“That’s silly,” he said. “Your life was always good, long before you ever went to church. What did all those people in Atlanta tell you?”
She looked him in the eye. “Armand, I feel sorry for you. Without Jesus in your life, you’re lost. Until I understood all He did to save people like us, I had no idea. But now I know, and I don’t want to turn my back on my Savior.”
Armand rubbed his hand over his mouth as he shook his head. Shannon sensed his discomfort, but she didn’t say what she knew it would take to make him smile again. She couldn’t lie to him and say she didn’t need the Lord now that she had modeling back in her life. One was nothing but shallow, empty promises—an illusion—while the other was eternal and solid.
“Look, Shannon, why don’t you go on inside and get some sleep? I’ll come over in the morning with breakfast.”
Nodding, Shannon hopped out of the car and scurried in past the doorman while Armand’s car sped off. She sensed that things were about to come to a head between her and Armand.
The next morning, when Shannon got up, she put on some jogging pants and a T-shirt and didn’t bother with makeup. All she did was brush her teeth and wash her face before running a brush thought her hair, letting it fall freely over her shoulders.
When she opened the door to Armand, he shuddered. “Go make yourself presentable, Shannon. This is so not like you.”
“It is me, Armand. The real me.”
“I’ve never seen this side of you.”
“That’s because you’ve never really looked, Armand.”
“Your image—”
She cut him off. “I don’t care about image—especially when I’m just hanging out around the apartment. Do you care how I look?”
He reached up and touched his perfectly styled hair and made a grimace. “I guess I do sort of care.”
“Fine. Then find someone else who cares, because I don’t.”
Shannon was shocked at the words that had tumbled so easily from her mouth, but she felt free and relieved it was out. She really didn’t care what he thought. And now he knew.
“You haven’t been yourself lately. Maybe that accident was more traumatic than we realized.”
“No, Armand. Now I am being myself. The way I was before the accident wasn’t the real me.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “I’ve got some tea ready. What’d you bring for breakfast?”
Shannon nibbled on the croissant and fruit Armand had brought, while he just sat there staring at the wall behind her. He clearly didn’t want to look at her without makeup.
When he left, Shannon suspected she’d never see him again outside the agency, which was fine. He wasn’t the right man for her anyway. This had been the second time he’d bolted when her image wasn’t what he wanted. He only loved her when she was picture perfect. In other words, he loved her image and not the real Shannon McNab.
The man she truly loved was Judd. Shannon longed for things the way they were back in Atlanta. She had an urge to call Janie and talk, and if Janie acted cool and distant, she’d fuss at her until she loosened up.
“Whoa, Shannon, slow down,” Janie said after Shannon rattled off all her feelings. “Let me see if I got this right. You don’t like New York or modeling, and you don’t ever want to see Armand again. You miss Atlanta and the church, and you’re pretty sure you’re in love with Judd.”
“That’s right,” Shannon said firmly.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, then I guess it’s okay to tell you Judd’s in love with you, too. He’s been a wreck since you’ve been gone.”
Shannon’s heart fluttered before falling again. “Why doesn’t he let me know?”
Janie laughed out loud. “You’re not stupid, Shannon. It’s pretty obvious. Here you are, a supermodel, bringing down more money in a year than he’ll make in a lifetime. He’s a school teacher in a small Atlanta suburb, and he’s never even sure if his shoes match half the time.”
“I don’t care about all that.”
“Maybe you don’t, but he does.”
“Judd has never cared if I wore makeup or not.”
“He probably never even noticed,” Janie agreed.
“And he was nice to me, even when my scar was bright red.”
“We all have scars, Shannon. Judd knows that. It’s just that some of us have scars on our faces, and others have them hidden inside.”
“That’s what I love about you, Janie.”
“I know, I know. I don’t beat around the bush.”
“What should I do?”
“How would I know? I’ve never been faced with anything like this before.”
“I don’t know if I want to model anymore, but I do know one thing. I don’t want to stay here. I want to come back and be with my friends.”
“If you come back here, you sure won’t get those big modeling contracts you get up there.”
“Maybe I can commute.”
“Now that’s a thought.”
“Thanks, Janie.”
“For what? Confusing you?”
Melinda called three hours later. “Are you feeling okay, Shannon?”
“Sure, I’m fine. How about you, Melinda?”
“Never mind me. Armand’s worried about you.”
“Tell him to relax. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Good,” Melinda said, her voice tight with excitement. “Because I’ve got some wonderful news for you.”
“You do?”
“We’ve just been offered a two-year extension on the corn
chips contract, and I think we can renew the makeup contract before the week’s over. Looks like you’re really back, Shannon McNab.”
Shannon’s insides clenched as Melinda went over all the details. Dread washed over her with each statement and contract point. How would she ever get out of this?
“Well?” Melinda finally said. “Aren’t you excited?”