Wish Upon a Star

by Jim Cangany

  "All set." She picked up the copy of Jane Austen's Emma she'd been reading.

  "Is that it? Come on, don't leave me hanging."

  "You are such a big baby. Fine. We're going to do something intimate here in Indy. Samantha will handle the heavy lifting, but she'll email you tomorrow with a few assignments. Since my birthday's the day before round seven, hopefully I'll be feeling pretty good. And Staci's available to celebrate with me. It'll be fun."

  Samantha's email taught me a new meaning for the term few. I'd always thought few meant three or four. Annie's manager thought differently. To her, few evidently meant forty-one.

  With the exception of devoting two days exclusively to Annie's care after chemo round number six, I spent nearly all of my time preparing for her party. The guest list itself took the better part of three days to compile, revise and get approved by Annie, Samantha and Ira.

  Once again, I learned a new definition for "intimate", a word I'd always thought I knew the meaning of. When Annie said she wanted something intimate, I thought she meant a couple dozen people or so. In reality, it meant closer to five hundred. Even at that number, I had to fight to get Gloria, Paul and Dave and the guys' wives on the final list.

  I was on the porch, where our phone conversation wouldn't disturb Annie when I finally put my foot down. The final straw had been when Samantha laughed at one of my suggestions for party favors.

  "Look Samantha, if I'm not doing a good enough job for you, feel free to get someone else. Annie's been in bed for the last two days and taking care of her is my top priority."

  "E.J., don't be that way. I thought we were friends. What's wrong?"

  "What's wrong? I don't know what the hell I'm doing. That's what's wrong. I'm not a party planner, especially when a celebrity's involved. I can handle being Annie's assistant when I'm relaying messages to you and handling fan mail. With this kind of stuff, I'm racing above my category."

  Samantha was silent.

  I took the opportunity to calm down a little.

  When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. "E.J., I'm sorry. I need to remember this is all new to you. In the past, when Cassandra and I needed things done, well—"

  "Don't even go there. Do not compare me to that—"

  "Oh God, that's not what I meant. I would never compare you to Kyrstie. This is about me, not you. I need to remember that while you've done an admirable job for us, this isn't your profession. I've just thrown you into the deep end without so much as a lifeline and expected you to swim. That's my mistake. Let me do this. I have a few things I need to take care of today and tomorrow. I'll fly into Indianapolis the day after. That will give us a week to work together to get things ready for the party."

  "On one condition. If Annie asks why you're coming to Indy so early, you tell her you wanted to visit before the party. She doesn't need any extra stress."

  "I can live with that. How is she?"

  "Hopefully, she'll be up and around tomorrow. The cumulative effect of the chemo's showing up. She's lost ten pounds and she tires easily. But she's still fighting." I wrapped up the call and went inside to check on Annie.

  The lights were off, but she was sitting up. The meditation technique of closed eyes and deep, regular breathing she was employing helped her relax, which in turn lowered her pain. I watched her chest rise and fall in clockwork fashion, saw her thumbs and pinkie fingers touching at the tips. Even in this state, she was absolutely stunning to me. The lack of hair didn't matter, nor did the dark circles under her eyes or the tattered Joan Jett and The Blackhearts t-shirt she was wearing.

  She was my North Star, the most precious thing in the world. And I'd crawl to the end of that world and back on my hands and knees if it would help her get better. The tumors were shrinking, but there was still a lot we didn't know.

  Eleven

  "Checking up on me, eh?" Annie had just released Samantha from a long embrace at our front door. I hadn't warned Annie about Samantha's visit, hoping her appearance would buoy Annie's sometimes wavering spirit.

  "I've got more experience than your fiancé at keeping you out of jail, so I thought I'd come and hang for a few days to help out with your party."

  Annie led Samantha to the dining room table while I mixed drinks.

  "Quaint little place you have here, E.J."

  Quaint? It was actually one of the largest condos in the area. "Yeah well, I'll admit it's nothing like the Villa, but its home."

  Annie immediately came to my defense. "And a fabulous home it is. You wouldn't believe the convenience. I'm only fifteen or twenty minutes from everything—the hospital, shopping, dining. The neighbors aren't nosy. I feel safe here."

  I served the drinks and headed for the garage to work on my road bike. I slowed when I heard Samantha ask Annie if she still wanted to sell her house.

  "Stop it, Sam. I've made my decision. Put the Malibu property on the market. The Villa's plenty for me to deal with."

  That brought me to a stop. Annie hadn't mentioned word one about selling her Southern California property. Not that I had any stake in it, but she might have mentioned something about it to me. I gave the bike more attention than it really needed while I nursed my wounded ego. She'd forgotten more about business and finance than I'd ever know, and she sure as hell didn't need my approval for anything she did.

  But still. In my book, selling a house was a pretty big decision and to not even mention it...

  I was halfway through tuning up Annie's bike when the door opened. "May I join you?"

  "Sure. Samantha have to go already?"

  "She had to go, but I'm not sure about the already part. You've been out here three hours."

  After a couple of blinks in surprise, I glanced at the clock. It was almost six.

  She pulled up a work stool by me. "I thought you might want to visit with us, but you never came back. Are you upset with me?"

  "Of course not. I figured the two of you had a lot of catching up to do, so I'd leave you to it. Besides, I've been behind on the bike maintenance."

  She raised a penciled-in eyebrow. "Non. Out with it. What's bothering you? It's the Malibu house, isn't it? I heard you stop when we were discussing it. You think I should have consulted you, yes?"

  With a flick of a quick release lever, I had Annie's front tire off to check the spokes. "No, that's not it at all."

  The truth of it was, I didn't know what exactly was bothering me, so I went for what constantly weighed on me. "I just worry about you. About your health. And sometimes I get scared. Then when I hear something like you want to sell one of your homes, I can't help it, I start thinking about Dad, and Mom, and Evan."

  I slipped the tire into the truing stand and spun it until I located a spoke that needed tightening. "I just... Sometimes it's hard. Out of the blue, something will set me off. And the best place to turn is right here." I swept my arm across my work area.

  After attending to the offending spoke, I gave the wheel another spin. Satisfied with my handiwork, I returned the wheel to the front fork and clamped it into position.

  "You can turn to me." She said it so softly, I barely heard her.

  "You've got enough on your plate. You don't need to hear about my dumb complaints." A shop rag had fallen to the concrete floor. I bent over to grab it and when I straightened up, Annie took me in her arms. Her touch was a soothing tonic for my chronically frazzled nerves.

  "Your complaints are not dumb. You do so much for me and you never give me any grief. Except for the whole car thing, but that's a separate issue." She chuckled and spun the back tire. "You've let me forget about everything else to focus on me. That's meant so much. I can never repay you for that."

  She took my hand, kissed it and dropped my keys in it. "Samantha told me you've done an amazing job planning the party. If I buy you dinner, you'll tell me about it, yes?"

  We spent dinner over some traditional Irish fare at Dooley Flynn's while I updated Annie on the plans for her party. She beamed when I told h
er that Staci was bringing a handful of friends. She frowned when I mentioned that a limited number of the press would be there, too. A sigh and roll of the eyes confirmed that she thought five hundred people was excessive. She about choked on her sparkling water when I told her one of the weekly entertainment mags had offered Samantha twenty-five thousand dollars for exclusive photo rights.

  "Oh my God, what did she say?"

  "She accepted. The money's being directed to the Cassandra Lawrence Foundation, which will send half to a charity of Staci's choosing and half to a charity of your choosing."

  Annie lifted her drink in salute. "That's not bad. Who came up with that idea?"

  "It was part of the Grand Bargain Samantha and I agreed to."

  She leaned forward. "I'm intrigued. Do tell."

  "I didn't want the press of any sort, but Samantha insisted. After a fair amount of back and forth, Samantha got the press, and the associated donation. In exchange, I got my choice of official party favor."

  "Wow, must be some pretty great party favors. You'll tell me what they are, yes?"

  "Promise you won't throw a dinner roll at me." I kept still until she agreed.

  "I wanted it to be light-hearted, but to carry a message, too. So the favors to your birthday party are fake bald heads for people to wear."

  Annie stared at me for what had to be a full minute, immobile. "You didn't."

  My cheeks started burning. "I just—" Before I could say more, a roll bounced off my forehead and into my soup.

  Annie clapped her hands and burst out laughing. "Oh my lord. It's perfect."

  I heaved a sigh of relief and cut up the roll. Through the rest of dinner and the drive home, Annie filled me in on what she wanted to do at the party.

  Once we got home, she rang Samantha to brainstorm ideas to raise additional funds. In the end, they decided to hire someone to take pictures of guests wearing their bald heads with Annie and Staci in exchange for a donation. Annie would also sign a few of the novelties and auction them off to the highest bidder. Lastly, since the band was going to there, Annie would play a set with them—with everyone wearing their bald caps. They'd include a song that would be chosen by the highest bidder.

  "Will the band go for that?" I said.

  Annie winked at me. "They will after you talk them into it."

  With Samantha in town, the to-do list grew shorter by the hour. It got to the point I spent about as much time the last few days before the party responding to texts from Staci as anything else.

  The change in Annie's young friend from the last time I'd seen her had been amazing. Her energy level was up. Annie informed me that she'd eaten well when they'd finished shopping for coordinating guest of honor outfits. To top it all off, her tutor was pleased with her school efforts. She truly seemed to be getting better. I hoped that was the case.

  * * * *

  "You really want me to wear this?" Annie had taken the liberty to lay my outfit for the birthday party on the bed. The black dress pants weren't a problem. The black Italian loafers were a stretch, especially since there were no socks in sight, but she'd promised me they were comfortable. The shirt was the problem. The long sleeved, collared garment was a shiny, old gold color that conjured up visions of my alma mater's nemesis.

  "That's a silk shirt I ordered specifically for you to wear tonight. It goes with both my red dress and Staci's light blue outfit."

  "But I'll look like I belong in a picture for Purdue University."

  Annie took a break from applying her eyeliner to glare at me. "From what I know of it, Purdue's a fine school. Now stop whining like a six-year-old and get dressed. I feel pretty good today, so if you behave yourself, I might have something special for you later."

  I was struggling with the monogrammed cufflinks she'd given me when Samantha arrived. Her dark hair was swept back in a fancy up-do and her linen suit was a shocking pink. She got the cufflinks into position within thirty seconds and stepped back to inspect me.

  "How'd I do?" Annie asked from behind me. I turned and my heart stopped. Annie was breathtaking in a dark red, sleeveless dress. She'd used a makeup pencil to give her some eyebrows and replaced her glasses with contact lenses. Her eyes were sparkling.

  "Wow," I breathed. "You look amazing."

  "Of course I do." She patted me on the cheek. "I was asking Samantha how I'd done dressing you."

  "You can obviously dress him up." Samantha batted her eyelashes at me.

  "Stop it. He's taken, and besides, he's got the wrong chromosome to be your type."

  Samantha let out a light laugh and tossed her tiny purse on the kitchen counter. "Yes, there is that. The driver will be here in thirty minutes. We have a limo picking up Staci, her mom and her friends. We should arrive shortly after they do."

  Annie nodded. "Beth and the girls?"

  "Thanks to E.J.'s good work, they're all here. They'll be at the party when we arrive."

  Annie and Samantha went over the evening's schedule while we waited for our driver. On the way to the party, Samantha gave me instructions on everything from where to stand—either at Annie's side or slightly behind her, but never in front of her—to what to say to people I didn't know—keep the focus upbeat and always on Annie—to what to do with my hands—folded either in front or behind me, but never in my pockets.

  When we pulled up in front of the Grand Hall at Union Station, a valet had our door open the moment we stopped moving. I exited first, and then assisted Annie out of the car. A few camera flashes went off when she took my arm. The star of the show, Annie was absolutely beaming as we strolled up the red carpet that had been laid out.

  I smiled when she took in a breath as we entered the Grand Hall. Built in the nineteenth century, the area had once been a train station entrance hall. Now it served as a banquet and reception facility. A rainbow of colors filtered through a massive stained glass window. A bandstand had been erected at one end for Annie's performance with the Downtowners.

  A squeal of delight diverted my attention from the architecture to Staci. Annie held her hands out to her young friend, who practically jumped into them. She whispered something in Annie's ear and they immediately started giggling. They drifted off to a table where a number of starry-eyed young ladies were sitting.

  Samantha tapped me on the elbow. "You and Cassandra will need to do some formal greetings later, but for now, get a drink and enjoy yourself."

  I'd just ordered a beer when Dave joined me at the bar. "Dude, linen tablecloths and assigned seating. Kind of highbrow for you, isn't it?"

  We clinked glasses. "Totally. I haven't seen Annie smile this much in a long while, though. Makes it all worthwhile."

  I followed Dave to a table in the middle of the room and visited with Gloria and Paul for a few minutes. Most of my evening would be spent at Annie's side, so it was good to hang with my buddies for a while. Before I knew it though, Samantha was giving me the high sign to join Annie.

  We visited with a few record label big shots and buttered up a film company potentially interested in showing the concert documentary in a few movie theaters. After that, we took our spots at the head table. Staci and her mom joined us, along with Miranda and Ryan. Once everyone was seated, Annie turned a wireless microphone on and handed it to me.

  I swallowed as a bead of sweat formed on my brow. In a small crowd, I was as comfortable speaking as an auctioneer at an estate sale. But in front of this crowd of five hundred people, most of whom I'd never met? My heart started racing as if I was in a full out sprint at the Tour of California.

  I glanced at the table where Annie's band was seated. Beth, her musical director and keyboardist, gave me a little salute. Ashley, her drummer who was currently sporting a four inch purple Mohawk, and Tisha, her bass player, appeared to be trying very hard to suppress giggles.

  After placing the mic on the table, I wiped my sweaty palms on the cloth napkin. Annie leaned toward me.

  "Just say what's in your heart. It always works with me.
" She gave my hand a little squeeze.

  I stood and took the mic in trembling hands.

  "Hi. For those of you who don't know me, I'm E.J. McCarty. About twenty months ago, I met the beautiful woman seated next to me. We've faced a few challenges since then, but there's one thing I am absolutely certain of. And that is since the day in Chicago that I stumbled into her life, I've been the luckiest guy in the world.

  "We've asked you here tonight to join us in celebrating Annie's birthday. More than that, we're celebrating life. To that end, I'd like to introduce you all to our co-guest of honor, the lovely young lady to Annie's left, Staci Cleary."

  Staci's eyes grew wide as the room broke out in a round of applause. She looked to Annie, with what had to be a little fear in her eyes. Annie smiled back, took Staci's hand, and together they rose. The applause grew louder as the partygoers began to stand, first the band, then Staci's friends, until everyone was out of out of their seats. Staci's mom wiped away a tear between claps.

  The photographer approached the table. In response, Annie raised her and Staci's clasped hands to the ceiling. They shared a word and a giggle as a few pictures were taken. When the applause died away, I picked the mic back up.

  "Like I said, this evening is about celebrating life and showing support for those like Anne and Staci who are fighting the good fight. These two women have taught me a number of things, not the least of which is that bald is beautiful. You've all found a package at your seat. It contains one of these."

  I pulled my bald cap out of my pocket and put it on. Laughter rolled through the crowd. "I can't think of anybody better to emulate this evening than these two lovely ladies. Let's all have a little fun tonight with, and in honor of, Annie and Staci. Thanks."

  Right on cue, the wait staff began directing guests to the buffet. Clearly too excited to eat, Staci carried on non-stop through dinner until her mom patted her on the shoulder and pointed at her barely touched plate. Annie glanced my way and winked. I think she was having almost as much fun as Staci.

  When the dinner plates were cleared away, Annie leaned close to me.