Archive for September, 2010
September 28, 2010 @ 6:29 am | Filed under: Food and Drink,The Fit Life
I’ve tried several new recipes lately that have me super excited.
Several of them are Weight Watcher recipes, courtesy of my friend, Kayla Mansour, who is an amazing WW leader. Though I’ve never been a huge fan of sloppy joes, nor of ground turkey, I have to say – this dish had me at hello.
It smelled just that good.
It tasted even better.
But don’t take my word for it. Try it! You’ll be glad you did.
Ingredients:
2 pounds ground lean turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1 cup Catsup
12 oz diet Coke
Brown the ground turkey and onions together in a skillet sprayed with non-stick spray. Be sure the turkey is well browned.
Add the catsup and diet Coke. Simmer uncovered on medium heat until the cola and catsup cook down to a rich, thick sauce. Serve on whole-wheat burger buns.
DELISH!
Makes 10 sandwiches @ 5 Pts each (including the bun)
Use Sandwich thins and they are 2 Pts. each!
Recipe courtesy of: Kayla Mansour, Weight Watcher Leader
healthy recipes, recipes, Tasty Tuesdays
September 27, 2010 @ 4:52 pm | Filed under: Uniquely Me
I’m trying to slow things down, even if for only a few minutes.
School work slammed me last week, and I was pretty much held hostage by a whole host of papers, exams, research topics, and projects.
In between all the craziness, though, there were moments of pure bliss. And even though I missed blogging about them right after they happened, I certainly don’t want to miss mentioning them because…they were THAT special to me.
So…to recap…
1.) Madie turned 11! In true family fashion, we celebrated BIG.
Then after that HUGE meal and even BIGGER amounts of LAUGHTER and LOVE, it was time to head back to the grindstone for several more days of hard work and deadlines. Boo.
Friday DID finally arrive, however, and with its arrival came a very special evening. Our dear friends were installed as the new pastors of a great church. Our own pastor delivered a touching keynote message. The entire night was amazing on every level and MJ and I were so honored to share the night – and the experience – with some of the BEST people we know. Dawn and Kevin – we LOVE you dearly!
We arrived back home in Commerce a little after midnight, and were back up at 6:30 the next morning. I would say, bright n’ early, except there was nothing bright going on at all. It was a dark and stormy morning, to be sure, but the Bois d’ Arc Bash 5K Run was on – rain OR shine!
So we pulled on our shoes, caps…and rain ponchos…and lined up at the entry booth to receive our bib numbers and race maps. Then we stretched, chatted, and tried to stay out of the rain until the call came to approach the starting line.
Then the next thirty-five minutes were some of the MOST fun I’ve ever had with my husband. I had to laugh as I thought of all the weeks of training I had endured and how NONE of it had prepared me for running in a torrential downpour and leaping deep and wide puddles with a single bound…
We managed to cross the finish line TOGETHER and we must have been grinning from ear to ear because amid all the cheers I made out, “Look at those smiles!’ And I have no doubt we WERE smiling. It was fun, plain and simple.
MJ didn’t have the luxury of the same amount of training times so the effort he put forth is all the more to be praised. He’s my hero! He also makes me laugh – a LOT.
I walked into the living room late Saturday afternoon and found him sitting in his chair. “How’s your body?”
“It hurts.” He patted his lower stomach. “Everything from my navel down.”
Like I said, he makes me laugh.
And when I laugh – with MJ, with our family, with friends – I gulp in big breaths of fresh air.
Just the remedy for an intense week, don’t you think?
September 24, 2010 @ 2:55 pm | Filed under: Books,The Writing Life
MELROSE MIRACLE
by Staci Wilder
Chapter Fifteen
The tension in the green room the next morning was thick enough to slice with a knife.
Torrie sat in a chair, apart from the group, her forehead resting in her hand. Ella almost felt sorry for her. The poor girl must have a headache the size of Texas, after last night’s drinking spree.
Deidra, still miffed at nearly being eliminated the day before, sat hunched on the sofa, glowering at anyone who dared look her way. Ben and Henry played a quiet game of cards in the corner. But the real clincher was that Henry seemed to have laid aside his jokes for a much quieter past-time. Ella found the change stark. Their reticent demeanors accentuated the palpable tension among the group of remaining contestants.
Patty poured herself a cup of coffee from the food service table. She stirred in a packet of sugar and stared at Ella. For her part, Ella felt too disturbed over last night’s events and too anxious over today’s challenge to work up the effort to even care that scary Patty was doing the staring thing again.
“What hap…happened?” Patty came and stood beside her.
“Huh?” Ella closed the magazine she’d been flipping through. “What do you mean?”
Patty pointed around the room. “Something’s dif…different today. Don’t you feel it?”
Ella felt it all right. The needles of pain from Torrie’s comment on Stephen still gouged her. Sure the girl had been drunk beyond reason when she’d uttered them. But underneath the mean, bitter tone, Torrie’s words had hit on a small nugget of truth. A truth that Ella had wanted to ignore until last night.
She only shrugged now and attempted a smile at Patty. “I don’t know.”
“You o..o-kay?”
Now it was Ella’s turn to stare. She’d never noticed Patty’s speech before. Thinking over the past couple of weeks, Ella couldn’t recall hearing the mysterious woman actually participate in a conversation. The stutter surprised her, but not nearly as much as when Patty sat down on the sofa next to her.
“Uh…yeah, I’m okay.” Ella scooted over to make room.
Patty’s eyes seemed to see through her. “This is tough, is..isn’t it? The comp…competition?” Again, she pointed to the others. “Meet…meet-ing new people.” The woman’s shoulders lifted slightly and she offered a tight grin. “At least that…that’s the hard…hard part for me.”
“It is difficult, that’s for sure.” Ella nodded and twisted around to face Patty, shocked the woman was opening up. Even more shocked to realize she’d known this woman for weeks now and never knew she had a stutter. It had seemed Patty really wanted no part of the group and, apparently, she’d gotten her wish. Otherwise, one of them would have noticed the stutter, wouldn’t they?
No one else in the room seemed to be paying the two of them any attention. That was fine with Ella. After last night’s episode with Torrie, she didn’t feel up to any more confrontations.
This conversation with Patty seemed more important. Her heart went out to the woman as she labored to finish her sentences with minimal stuttering. She suddenly felt honored the woman trusted her enough to share her feelings.
“I’m from…from a small farm…farming com…community.” Patty took a sip of her coffee and nodded. “From Iowa. I have fr…friends there, but…well, I don’t m…make friends ea…easily. Be…because of th…this.”
Patty pointed to her mouth and Ella’s heart wrenched. This woman’s courage was awe inspiring. She darted a glance around the room again. If any of the others had paid any attention to their conversation they were doing a great job of pretending they hadn’t.
How, Ella wondered, had every one of them spent this much time in close quarters with Patty and not known?
“I kn…know ev…everybody th…thinks I…I’m weird.” Patty’s mouth trembled.
“No!” Ella reached over and squeezed the woman’s knee. “That’s not it at all. We—” she indicated everyone in the room—“haven’t had a chance to know you. But I’d like that chance. Really, I would.” She smiled into the woman’s tear-filled eyes. “And I have a feeling the others would too.”
Patty’s mouth twisted into a grin. “I…I don’t kn…know. Maybe th…this is the edge I n…need…”
“Maybe so.” Ella teased back. “How’s it going for you? I mean, how do you handle the cameras, the pressure?” It was hard to ask such a delicate question, but how in the world did Patty hold up under this competition while battling such a severe case of stuttering?
Patty shook her head, her short dark hair swinging with the movement. “It…it does…doesn’t hap…happen out th…there.”
Ella felt her eyes widen in shock. “Oh, Patty,” she reached out and embraced the woman. “I’m still going to try to win this competition, I want you to know that.” She whispered in the woman’s ear. “But if I can’t win it, then I want you to know I’m rooting for you.”
*****
“And then there were six…” Nathan Charleton’s attempt at humor was lost on the finalists.
Ella shifted to her other foot, anxious to learn about the next challenge and get started on it. The quicker she finished the challenges, the sooner she’d be back home with Chloe. And right now, there was no place Ella would rather be than in her run-down apartment in Milltown, cuddling her small daughter.
Last night had been many things. Fun. Exciting. Adventurous.
And then the inevitable drop.
To guilt-ridden. Despair-driven. Heart-rending.
Her heart had enjoyed a brief foray into something that might could be, only to learn by night’s end that it wasn’t in the cards, after all. Luke’s statement of faith had been the first hint. Like an idiot, she’d ignore it, wanting instead to bask in the glow Luke’s lavish attention cast over her.
It had been Torrie’s drunken tirade that had driven the facts home in Ella’s heart. The comments about Stephen were nothing more than poison darts the girl had aimed in Ella’s direction. She understood that. But beneath the anger and the bitterness lay that glaring tiny seed of truth.
That truth was enough to send Ella running.
Now all that remained was to get through this competition. Win or lose, she’d find a way to forget all about Luke Abney.
“Today’s challenge may prove to be enjoyable for you. We certainly hope so anyway. You’ve been working hard this week. So today—” he gestured to a long table with beautifully decorated cakes on top—“you’ll be decorating a cake. Each of you will receive your blue card with your individual break-downs. All you’re asked to do in this challenge is perform the break-down on your card. Don’t worry about the rest of the cake.”
Ella’s interest was piqued, but suspicion nibbled at her excitement. It couldn’t be this simple, it never was. She glanced at Torrie, standing next to her, but she might as well be invisible. Torrie seemed to glare straight through her, not bothering to acknowledge her presence. Whether or not the girl remembered all the events of the night before was unclear to Ella, but Torrie had yet to speak one word to her in the past three hours.
“This should be…a piece of cake!” Henry’s quip seemed to break the ice.
Even Deidra gave way to nervous giggles before playfully bopping Henry on the head.
*****
The finalists were in the big middle of their next challenge just below him.
Luke sat in the control booth with Kurt. He’d switched assignments with Ernie, buying himself an afternoon free of camera duty. Now he lounged back, feet propped on Kurt’s desk, reading The Valley Sun.
“Want to listen in?” Kurt turned, laughing, and offered him a headset. “You really need to see and hear all this. It’s hysterical.”
“What’s up?” Luke glanced over the top the paper. He wasn’t too interested in seeing the day’s activities. That’s why he’d switched assignments with Ernie in the first place. Something had made Ella uncomfortable last night. Something more than Torrie’s obnoxious comments. Whatever it was, he sensed she connected him with this uncertainty. The last thing she needed right now was to have him hovering nearby with his camera. This competition was hers to win; he planned to stay out of her way until she did just that.
“Hang on a second,” Kurt punched a few buttons, adjusting the monitor and feedback. “Okay. They’re decorating a cake, right? But what each of the contestants don’t know is that something has been rigged to go wrong in each of their demos. It’s a riot, man! You should see the looks on their faces!”
“A riot?” Luke turned in spite of himself and scooted his chair closer to the large window that overlooked Sound Stage C. “Sounds cruel, if you ask me.”
Kurt shrugged. “Maybe. But it makes for good TV, you know?”
Luke blew out a frustrated breath and tried to stifle the impulse to belt Kurt. “See? That’s why I don’t like reality television. It’s pointless. All it does is prey on people’s weaknesses. What’s the fun in that?”
Kurt howled. “Come on, man. Put on these phones. Check out Cowboy Ben! He can’t figure out why the stupid cake won’t come out of the pan!”
Luke stared down at the studio floor and slid the headset over his ears. Turning the volume up a bit he zeroed in on Ben’s monologue.
“Uh, okay, folks. Normally, the cake would come out of the pan. I repeat, this is not normal.” All the while Ben banged on the bottom of the metal pan with a wooden spoon. It was only after five minutes and a basic retraction with a sharp knife, that the cake slid unwillingly to the platter.
Marnie called a wrap to the segment and poor Ben was left with a mangled cake—no decorations whatsoever.
Luke had to grin at Ben’s expression. Confusion lined his tanned face as he huddled with Miriam, trying to glean some clear answers to his questions.
“They’re not going to tell them until the elimination ceremony that they’ve all been rigged. The point is to see how well they can handle it when things go haywire.”
“Hmm.” Luke pulled the headset off. The challenge actually made sense. Things often went wrong on set, and it made sense that they would be in a restaurant setting as well. A chef needed to be able to think on his feet. Above all, he needed to remember the cardinal rule and never stop the show.
A new worry niggled at Luke’s conscience. “Has Ella taken her turn yet?”
“Huh?” Kurt pushed back his own headset. “Ella? Uh, no, not yet. Wait, it looks like she’s up next.”
Luke didn’t know if he could watch this, just sit here and be a mere spectator while Ella had her whole demo booby-trapped. Yet the sight of her on the floor below him kept him close. He sighed and slid the headphones back on.
He couldn’t help watching anymore than he could help falling in love with Ella Paglia.
*****
Ella walked on set and took her place behind the counter. She waited for Marnie’s countdown, revved up her Colgate smile, and trained her eyes on the teleprompter.
“On five…four…three…two…one!” Marnie’s arm came down.
“Hi, welcome back. I’m Ella Paglia and today we’re decorating this beautiful yellow cake. The first thing we’re going to do is prepare our icing. We’ll use 2 tsp. of white—”
Ella paused and squinted at the teleprompter. It said two teaspoons of white rice vinegar, but she knew that couldn’t be right. Vanilla is what the recipe called for and vanilla was the item on the demo tray. She hurried to fill in the silence.
“That’s right,” she smiled into the camera, “two teaspoons of vanilla. To that we’ll add one egg—“
The teleprompter read ‘eggplant’. Ella blew out a frustrated breath, making sure the Colgate grin never wavered. “One egg, slightly beaten. When you’ve done that, you’ll gradually add in the powdered do—“
The word ‘donuts’ marched across the teleprompter. This time it took all Ella could do not to giggle. She was being set up, no doubt about it. “The one things you don’t want to do, folks, is dump in a powdered donut, but powdered sugar would be a good thing. About a one-fourth cup.”
It wasn’t until two hours later, at the next elimination ceremony that she learned the full story. Nathan Charleton stood in front of the finalists, a huge grin splitting his face.
“Cowboy Ben, you’ll be relieved to hear this, as will you all. This is the only time in this competition that this will happen. But today each of your demos was rigged to fail.”
Ella smiled at the chorus of groans. Evidently she’d been fortunate enough to figure out that something was amiss much earlier than the others. Deidra, next to her uttered a hushed curse.
“Some of you experienced difficulties with the cake itself. A couple others had impossibly runny icing, not fit to frost anything! And then a couple of you had technical difficulties, either with the teleprompter or with the lighting.”
“Or lack of lighting…” Henry chimed. “I had to ice a cake in the dark, people.”
“The point,” Nathan Charleton went on, “was to see how calm you could stay when the things you’d planned for went awry. The judges were pleased to notice that a few of you kept your wits and your sense of humor. A couple of others, unfortunately, didn’t fare as well. Judges—” the host moved aside—“you can take it from here.”
The judge named Tom stepped forward. “Thank you, Nathan. These are the names of the finalists that we’d like to stay for the next round of Restaurant 101.”
He paused and Ella sucked in a breath.
“Henry…Patty…Ella…Torrie. We’d like you to stay for the next challenge. Ben and Deidra, please step forward.”
Ella listened to Jordan Elliott caution Ben not to panic under pressure. “Use your horse sense, cowboy. Just shoot from the hip till all your dogies are in place again.”
Ben turned a pretty shade of pink, but nodded his head. Apparently it was an analogy he could relate to.
“Deidra, at the last elimination ceremony we cautioned you against slips of the tongue. Yet today you had the same issue. Deidra, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the competition. Ben, we’re inviting you to stay for the next round.”
*****
“Ella, wait.”
She turned at the sound of Luke’s voice and waited while he jogged the short distance to her. “Hey,” she said as he caught up.
“Hey, yourself.” He grinned. “And congratulations! You made it through another round!” He held the outside studio door open for her.
“I’m not quite sure how.” Ella stepped out into the bright late afternoon sunshine. “The competition’s getting stiff.” She couldn’t resist a grin. “Did you see this last challenge?”
“Do you mean the one where you added powdered donuts to your recipe?” Luke howled and reached out, placing a hand on her lower back, guiding her to a shady spot.
She reached out and poked him in the side with a finger. “That’s the one.” She laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at a teleprompter in the same way again!”
“You did great.”
Luke’s voice, warm and close, tickled Ella’s senses.
“Ella,” his voice changed, going an octave lower, and Ella braced for his next words, not quite trusting herself to look up at him. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
“I know. I’m sorry too.” She looked down again, the shame from the night before and all it stood for coming to rest in the air between them. “About a lot of things.”
“Not about seeing me, I hope.” There was just the hint of uncertainty in Luke’s voice. He reached out to touch her arm, and then let his fingers slowly trail down to her hand. “Do we dare try another dinner out?”
Ella watched as he laced his fingers through hers. The warmth of this skin against hers felt wonderful and it would have been so easy to lean into him, to give in to the feelings he stirred in her. Had she learned nothing from last night’s disaster? Even if she one day felt a release to love again, how in the world could her heart choose Luke? Torrie’s poisoned comments had painted dark clouds over a potentially beautiful canvas and, right now, Ella didn’t see how it could all be salvaged.
“Can we take it one day at a time?” She tried for a smile, and hoped it passed as such.
“Sure.” Luke raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly. “As many days as you want.”
Ella climbed into the car that waited to take her back to the hotel.
Concentrate, Ella. She forced herself to look away as the driver edged the car down the street. This was the best thing for both of them. Luke might not realize it right now, but she was doing him a favor. Somewhere out there was a woman who was perfect for Luke Abney. Someone without the baggage that she carried. Someone who’d be free to love Luke in exactly the way he deserved.
Free Fiction Fridays, Staci Wilder books, writing
September 17, 2010 @ 8:16 am | Filed under: Faith Lifts,The Solid Rock,The Writing Life,Uniquely Me
A fearless beauty is something I pursue…
devotions, Faith Lifts, walk with God
September 17, 2010 @ 6:49 am | Filed under: The Writing Life,Uniquely Me
MELROSE MIRACLE
by Staci Wilder
Chapter Fourteen
Ella stood between Deidra and Henry, her heart thudding.
The seven finalists faced the panel of judges in the dimmed Sound Stage C. A strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation tickled Ella’s insides, but the fear from the first elimination ceremony was strangely missing.
Henry hummed beneath his breath next to her, and Ella knew the others felt the pressure too. It was kind of crazy, when she stopped to consider it, that a group of adults would willingly put themselves in a position to be judged and scrutinized, almost like they were in an elementary school spelling bee or something.
“Welcome to tonight’s elimination ceremony.” Nathan Charleton faced the contestants. “On behalf of the judges and myself, we want to say how amazing each of you did in today’s challenge. You’ve learned that it’s not easy to multitask on camera and sometimes—when you least expect it—things go wrong.”
“Te-ell me.” Deidra quipped.
Their host smiled. “I see Deidra agrees with me.” He folded his hands. “Unfortunately, the time has come to send one of you home. It isn’t because you haven’t improved, but rather, you haven’t improved at the rate the judges would have liked.”
Nathan Charleton turned to the panel of judges. “Tom, I turn it over to you.”
The judge named Tom stood and walked in front of the seven finalists. Ella felt the tension in their little cluster tighten. Deidra’s fingers found hers and squeezed. The humming on the other side of her grew a bit more intense.
“We saw great things in each of you today. I think you made Marcus Jordan proud. You took his signature recipes and made them your own.” He smiled. “But there were some things that happened that made us question whether some of you really have what it takes to handle full restaurant and chef abilities.”
For the next five minutes the judges gave a running critique on each of their individual performances. Deidra was reprimanded for a slip of the tongue during her fiasco with the eggs. Henry was cautioned against being known as a joke teller on screen instead of a food show host. And Ella was reminded that—although there may be a million other things going on—it was crucial to always keep an eye on your footing.
She nodded. Hopefully she’d have the chance to do so.
“These are the names of the finalists that will continue on to the next challenge.” Tom paused and made eye contact with each of them. Patty…Ben…Ella…Torrie…
Henry.”
Ella’s heart thumped wildly with relief. Her legs felt like giant Gumbys, and she didn’t know which she wanted to do most—laugh or cry.
“Deidra and Dirk, please step forward.”
Ella felt sad for her two teammates. They’d both worked so hard in this competition. She had no doubt they wanted this every bit as much as she did. But only one of them would move on to the next round.
“Deidra,” Tom went on. “You let a word slip out during filming today that—had it gone on air—would have been bleeped by our network censors. I don’t think I have to tell you that is not acceptable.”
Deidra nodded, while the judge moved on to Dirk.
“Dirk, I’m not sure what happened out there today, but you lost control of the segment and never regained it. In this business, a chef has to think on his feet and not be fazed by minor hiccups or breakdowns in processes. You broke the cardinal rule today. You stopped the show. A chef must learn to improvise.”
Both Deidra and Dirk looked contrite. Ella’s heart hurt for them.
“Deidra,” Tom smiled at her, “We’d like you to stay for the next round. You still have a shot in Restaurant 101.
Ella felt a dart of disappointment. She liked both Deidra and Dirk, but felt maybe Dirk’s personality was more in line with the network philosophy. Still, that’s why the judges were here. She joined the others in embracing Dirk, who was amazingly gracious as he said his good-byes.
*****
Ella stared at the clothes on hangers in front of her. She’d packed plenty of straight skirts and tops. Perfect for her stint as a show contestant, but falling miserably short for her dinner date with Luke.
He’d said to dress casual, that they’d go somewhere quiet. Possibly a quaint Italian bistro he knew of. Ella had a closet full of casual, but she wanted something more for tonight. It needed to be special.
That left only the black dress.
Ella stared at it, uncertain. Reggie had thrown it into Ella’s bag at the last minute, insisting she needed at least one dress appropriate for evening wear. Her best friend had been right, as usual, but Ella wasn’t sure Reggie’s choice in dress was right for her.
She ran a tub full of hot water, pouring in a generous capful of plumeria bath crystals. Immersed in the steamy bubbles, Ella let her mind drift to the evening ahead. Her skin tingled with excitement. Between her surprise at making it to the next round and this dinner with Luke, Ella could barely contain it all.
This afternoon’s conversation with Luke replayed across the big screen of Ella’s mind. His gentleness—the way he’d held her hand. The look in his blue eyes—like he felt her pain and wanted to make it better. The unexpected prayer—
Ella sat up in the tub and rubbed the back of her neck.
The prayer. She’d been uncomfortable with that. Not that she didn’t believe in prayer, per se. She did—or at least she used to. But Ella had spent hours on her knees in prayer during Stephen’s illness and especially in those dark days before his death. Until the very end, she’d clung to her faith, knowing, trusting that God was able to heal her husband.
Then Stephen died, and everything changed.
Ella shook her head now, wanting to sweep these thoughts under the rug of her consciousness. Tonight was about Luke. About celebrating. About discovering a new friend. She didn’t know if her heart was jumping too far ahead of the rest of her, but Ella looked forward to finding out.
Stepping from the tub, she toweled off and spritzed a mist of perfume on her wrists and behind her ears. After smoothing lotion onto her legs, she donned the undergarments she’d laid out, then slipped into the black dress and stood in front of the full-length mirror.
The dress was long, coming to rest mid-calf. The silky crepe material hugged her body—not tightly, just gently outlining the silhouette of her figure. Flirty cap sleeves tickled her arms and made her feel very much like a woman. Turning her head to one side, she surveyed the neckline. By no means low-cut, it accentuated a part of her body Ella never really thought about.
Feeling beautiful, yet almost conspicuous, she toyed with the idea of changing into something of her own. The phone next to her bed jangled, and—with one last look in the mirror—she moved to answer it.
“Ella, this is Torrie.”
In her mind Ella chanted, Torrie—with an ‘ie’. “Hey, Torrie, what are you up to?”
“A bunch of us are going to dinner. You know, to celebrate. Want to come?”
The girl’s voice bubbled with enthusiasm and Ella almost hated to have to tell her no. “I’m sorry, Torrie. I don’t think I can make it tonight.”
“Aw, come on, Ella. It’ll be fun. Some of the crew are going too.”
Ella’s mind went back to Torrie’s comments a few days back. Did the girl think Luke Abney would be one of the crew present at dinner tonight? She started to set the record straight, then thought better of it. Luke had said there was no problem with them seeing one another, but there was no reason to hang it out there for anyone to inspect. She’d rather keep it between she and Luke for now. Torrie would just have to enjoy the evening with someone other than Luke.
“Have fun, and tell me all about it tomorrow. Okay?”
“Sure, okay.” Torrie sounded resigned. “Talk to you then.”
Ten minutes later Ella had brushed her teeth and released her hair from the scrunchie that had contained it during her bath. Running her fingers through the curls, she debated piling the whole mess back on top of her head. But remembering Luke’s comment and the way he’d played with that one curl was enough to convince her to leave it down. Slipping into a pair of black strappy heels, Ella couldn’t remember the last time she’d dressed up.
The phone jangled again.
“Hi.” Luke’s voice sounded sweet in her ear. “It’s me. You ready?”
“I am.” Ella grinned. “I’ll be right down.”
“I can’t wait.”
He was waiting for her though, just as she stepped off the elevator. Dressed in sharp black slacks and a tan ribbed sweater, Luke Abney looked gorgeous. His blond curls had received a fresh hair cut and now the close-cropped do was just what Ella remembered from their first meeting back home at Max’s diner.
“You look wonderful,” he whispered as he took her hand and gently kissed her cheek. The glint in his eyes told her he meant it.
She had a difficult time finding her voice, but he didn’t seem to notice. Placing one hand on the small of her back, Luke guided her outside and to the passenger side of a navy blue Expedition. He held her purse while she carefully climbed inside. As he shut the door, Ella felt his gaze linger on her. It sent shivers of anticipation pummeling through her veins.
The drive to the restaurant wasn’t a long one and it seemed to pass all too quickly. Not once did they lack for anything to say. Ella loved it when he laughed at her stories of Chloe. And she laughed along with him as she shared the details of tonight’s elimination ceremony.
“See? I told you it wasn’t your time to go home, didn’t I?”
“You did, I have to admit.” Ella nodded in the dimness of the SUV. “You were right.”
“You think maybe it was my prayer that worked?”
Ella swallowed hard. Here it was, the prayer thing again. She turned to look at him, not sure what to say. His faith was obviously important to him. Ella didn’t begrudge him that. She just wasn’t sure she could share it. Would that create a problem for them, right here in the beginning, before they’d given this romance a real chance?
“Ella, would it be so bad if it were the prayer that did it?” It was spoken in a whisper, so quietly she barely heard it.
In the darkness Ella shook her head. “No,” she whispered back. It wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. She just simply didn’t think it was the prayer.
*****
This probably wasn’t the best time to ask.
Still, Luke gripped the steering wheel and stared at the road in front of him. “You know,” he spoke quickly, before he lost his nerve, “I’d love for you to join me for church.”
“Church?” The puzzled timbre in her voice echoed inside the dimness of the vehicle.
“Yeah.” Luke almost wished he’d waited for a more appropriate opportunity to bring up the subject. His heart told him Ella Paglia was a special woman, but his head shouted that he needed to make sure she shared his faith. “I go to a church…a small one…just outside the city. We have a praise band, a really dynamic pastor…I think you’d enjoy it.”
Ella didn’t answer right away. Luke turned to look at her and saw her open her mouth to speak then promptly shut it again. He worked his jaw and considered how to direct the conversation from here.
“You always surprise me, you know that, Luke?”
She laughed and Luke’s stomach dropped back into place. He blew out a silent sigh of relief and grinned.
“Is that a good thing, or bad?”
Ella shrugged. “Good, I think. Certainly not bad. You just…catch me off guard sometimes.”
“I guess I’m passionate about things that mean a lot to me.”
“And you’re passionate about your church?” She shifted in the seat, angling her body to face him.
Luke heard the incredulity in her voice. “I guess you didn’t expect to find that in a Hollywood guy, huh?”
Ella gazed at him with an intensity that rocked him, making it difficult to keep his mind, let alone his eyes, on the traffic around them.
“Sometimes I forget there are still people who put their faith before anything else.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat. “It doesn’t matter if it’s here in LA or back home in Milltown.” She shrugged again. “Living out a strong faith is a tough thing to do.”
Now it was Luke’s turn to feel puzzled. He couldn’t put a finger on how Ella felt about God or faith. She talked as though drawing from personal experience, and that filled him with hope. But the quiet resignation that threaded her words kept a cautious rein on that hope. Luke struggled with the desire to delve further, not wanting to push too hard, too fast.
“It can be tough.” He could agree readily enough with that statement. “But God is faithful.”
Luke glanced her way again, wanting to reach over and take her hand. He wanted her to understand how the mercy of God had reached to him, rescuing him at the very moment when he felt he’d lost it all.
“Faith is living out in the daylight according to the holy whispers you hear in the nighttime.”
Luke’s heart stumbled in his chest as he listened to Ella’s quiet words. He didn’t know if he wanted to jump for joy that she did understand, or weep for the pain that resonated from some deep, dark place inside her.
This time he did reach for her hand, closing his fingers around hers. She didn’t resist, and they rode this way in silence for a few miles.
It wasn’t until they pulled into the parking lot of Café Med that Ella spoke again. She unhooked her seat belt and turned to face him.
“I had faith once, Luke.” Her eyes were large and round in the dimness of the truck’s interior. “A faith as strong and sure as yours.”
“What happened, Ella?” Luke asked the question, but in his heart he already knew. He felt he’d lost everything when Tessa had walked out on him. But in truth, he’d been spared an even larger heartache. A life with Tessa would have never worked for either of them. He knew that now, and was thankful he’d escaped that kind of peril.
But Ella had lost a husband. Chloe had lost her father. Luke couldn’t begin to fathom the pain of that kind of loss.
“Life has a way of teaching you things you’d rather not learn, you know?”
The sadness in her voice confirmed his thoughts. Luke wished for a way to show her God was still with her, even if she didn’t feel Him like she used to. That much he knew for sure. The shimmer of tears in her eyes stopped him. What right did he have to tell her anything? He’d never lost at the level Ella had experienced.
“I’ll keep your invitation in mind, Luke.” She attempted a smile, reaching out to touch his arm. “Thank you for asking.”
Disappointment gnawed at Luke’s gut as he stepped from the truck and walked around to open Ella’s door. She’d tried to hide it, but he knew she’d recoiled from his question on prayer. Lord, please don’t tell me I’m falling for this woman only to learn she doesn’t believe in You anymore. That would be unacceptable.
Right now, Luke couldn’t imagine anything harder than walking away from Ella Paglia.
With her arm entwined with his, he felt like a million bucks as they entered Café Med. He’d heard some of the guys bragging about bringing some of their dates to this chic, quiet Italian restaurant. As they walked inside, the dim interior and twinkling overhead lights seemed to mimic the atmosphere in Luke’s heart.
“Reservation for Abney, party of two.”
“Right this way, sir.” The waitress smiled and summoned them to follow her.
It wasn’t until they were midway down a narrow hallway that Luke spotted them. His heart sank to his knees as he recognized Ernie and a couple of guys from work. To make matters worse they shared a table with Torrie Tyler and a gal Luke couldn’t place.
He ducked his head and tightened his hold on Ella’s elbow, hoping she hadn’t seen the group. With any luck at all their table would be far away in another room and he and Ella would share the meal uninterrupted.
It wasn’t meant to be. Not believing his poor luck, Luke watched the waitress lead them to a table in the very room with Ernie, Torrie, and their party. Ella must have noticed them then too because he felt her body stiffen next to his.
“Abney!” Ernie’s voice boomed across the small space. “What are you doing here, man?”
Luke grinned and saluted. Maybe the waitress could show them to another table…
“You two come join us at our table.” Ernie pointed to two empty chairs. “There’s plenty of room.”
Luke glanced at Ella. Even if they begged off now it would be awkward. But he’d leave it up to her. When she only shrugged and offered a half-smile, Luke swallowed his disappointment and led her to the empty chair beside Torrie. Easing into the one next to her, he reached for Ella’s hand under the table.
“So, Ella.” Torrie sounded half-miffed. “I thought you weren’t going out tonight.” She leveled a glare that seared Ella.
Ella fidgeted in her chair, and eased her hand away from his. “No.” She shook her head. “I said I couldn’t go out with…you.” She smiled at the girl. “But what do you know? Here we are, after all!”
“Imagine that.”
Torrie’s tone was dry and loud. Luke glanced at the girl’s glass to see what she was drinking. Some type of cocktail. She sounded as though she’d had one drink too many.
“Anyway, let me make the introductions.” Ernie jumped in, obviously trying to cover up for Torrie’s rudeness. “Luke, have you met my girlfriend? Leann, this is Luke Abney, a buddy from work and—his date, I presume—Ella.”
Luke stood and reached for Leann’s hand, then watched Ella do the same. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Torrie’s voiced was garbled. “Ella is in the competition too. Now I see why she’s doing so well!” Her voice boomed as she laughed raucously. “She’s earning extra points!”
Luke glanced at the girl. The veneer that had appeared so sweet and innocent a mere week ago, now seemed to ooze venom as she glared at Ella. He squeezed Ella’s shoulder, trying to impart silent reassurance.
“Ella.” Torrie refused to fade into quietness. Instead, her voice rose above the din of conversation from the surrounding tables of Café Med patrons. “What about your husband? I thought you were still so in love with Stephen.”
Anger boiled in Luke as he saw Ella’s back stiffen. Instinct told him to reach out and take her hand. But his gut instructed him to remove Ella from the situation entirely.
Torrie turned her glazed eyes his direction as he stood. “I guess you’re…uh…mending her broken heart, huh, Luke?”
He felt the color rise in his cheeks. His chair scraped the tiled floor as he pushed it out of the way. Reaching for Ella’s hand, he pulled her to her feet, taking in the ashen gray complexion that had replaced the usual olive glow of her skin.
“I think we’ll sit alone, after all, guys.” He steered Ella around the table, careful to keep a steady hand on her elbow. She didn’t look well at all.
Torrie twisted in her seat, her cool blue eyes boring into Ella. “Guess you’re officially over your husband, huh, Ella?”
Ella flinched as though the girl had slapped her. Luke’s gut tightened at the look on her face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this much fury. Who knew an otherwise attractive lady could spew such ugly words. And, for what? To embarrass Ella? To bring up deliberate, hurtful reminders of a past that she’d so tragically lost? Luke didn’t understand it. Not one bit. But the one thing he knew was that he needed to get Ella away from this table—and fast. He grasped her elbow and moved forward again.
Ernie jumped up too and put an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry about that, man. Torrie’s been drinking pretty heavy since we got here. Don’t pay any attention to what she said.” He jerked a thumb toward the group. “She probably won’t even remember any of this tomorrow.”
Ernie winked at Ella. “She may not even be up to the next challenge, the way she looks right now.”
Ella’s silence was enough to propel Luke forward. He shook hands with Ernie and then led Ella back to the front of the restaurant. He scanned the lobby for the maitre de.
“I’ll have them give us a different table.” Luke bent and whispered in Ella’s ear.
“Luke,” she pulled on his sleeve. “Can…can you just take me back to the hotel?”
*****
Luke’s confusion was obvious to Ella.
She couldn’t blame him, not really. But neither could she explain it all to him. The guilt, the shame, the harsh reality—it was all too much to bear.
To try and explain it would be impossible.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Luke’s eyes misted with intensity as he stood at the door of her hotel room. “Can I bring you a cup of coffee? Do you want to talk?”
“No.” Ella shook her head, wishing with all her heart that she could escape inside her room, and not have to glimpse the care etched so deeply in Luke Abney’s eyes. If only there were a rewind button on the evening…She could have politely yet firmly turned down Luke’s dinner invitation and spared them both the brief glimmer of hope for a relationship. “Thanks, but no. I…I think I’ll just go to bed now.”
“Hey, you’re not going to let Torrie get to you, are you?” Luke leaned against the door frame.
Although he did not touch her, Ella’s arm tingled at his nearness. His glance, his care, his very presence—all hinted at an intimacy that both thrilled and scared Ella.
He deserved more, Ella knew that. Luke had been nothing short of kind and considerate to her, regardless of what Torrie Tyler might be spouting to others. Nothing inappropriate had transpired between them. There was no reason to feel guilty.
What about Stephen? Torrie’s drunken words traipsed through Ella’s mind like little wind-up toy soldiers, intent on one thing alone. To seek and uncover the shame she felt about allowing her heart to move on.
Ella swallowed against the sobs clawing at the back of her throat. If she stood here another minute, staring into Luke’s caring eyes, she would surely dissolve into a puddle. Right here in the hallway of the Los Angeles Radisson Hotel. That thought alone propelled her forward.
“Thank you for taking me out.” The words sounded lame, but Ella could think of nothing more.
Luke’s wry grin seemed to echo her thoughts. “Well, it was the cheapest night I’ve had in a while.”
The stab at humor seemed to hang in the air between them. Ella blinked, words again failing her.
“I’m sorry our night out had to end on such a sour note.” Luke shrugged. “It certainly wasn’t the evening I’d envisioned for us.”
“I know.” Ella couldn’t stare into his eyes another second. She directed her gaze to the multi-patterned carpet, tracing a gold-colored rectangle with the toe of her sandal. “It wasn’t what either of us envisioned.”
“I hope you’ll give me another chance.”
Luke’s voice, low and husky, tickled her senses. When her heart sped up, it only intensified the guilt. Almost as though her heart were betraying her every bit as much as she was betraying Stephen. How could she have these feelings for a man she’d known such a short time? Even more disturbing, how could she feel so strongly for two men at once? It didn’t make sense.
It only made her feel sick.
“We’ll see.” Ella forced her gaze back to Luke’s face. She tried to ignore the yet unasked questions in his eyes. Attempted to ignore the way he reached out to stroke her forearm. Steeled herself against the quick rush of his breath on her face as he stepped close.
“Ella.” Luke whispered, his voice caressing her bruised emotions. “I care about you.” He touched his chest as though to emphasize his point, then fell silent.
Ella stood speechless. What could she possibly say? I care about you too, Luke. But caring for you means my heart is committing the ultimate betrayal of Stephen. Ella shrank against the wall.
“I won’t rush you.”
She only nodded, not trusting her voice anymore than she trusted her heart.
Ella sensed, more than saw, Luke lean forward. His lips, soft as silk, brushed a kiss against her forehead. The electricity was immediate, and it jarred every sense in Ella’s body. Afraid to move, she remained motionless as he squeezed her fingers.
“Take care, Ella. Sleep well.”
It wasn’t until Luke had turned the corner that Ella allowed herself to look up. The empty hallway did nothing to reassure her. Instead it merely mirrored the emptiness in her heart, reminding her of all she’d lost.
Rebuking her for all she wanted.
Free Fiction Fridays, Staci Wilder books, writing
September 16, 2010 @ 6:21 am | Filed under: Motherhood,She said,Uniquely Me
A few years ago I started making random confessions to the world. Blogging is like that. It brings out all sorts of personal things you would normally only tell a best friend. Suddenly you are perfectly comfortable sharing things like the fact that you just went to Wal-Mart and – midway down the bread aisle – couldn’t remember if you’d changed out of your pajama bottoms before leaving home. Disclaimer: I did, however, change first. I was fully clothed for the bread run. Just not necessarily in my right mind.
At the time you are typing the aforementioned sensitive information into your laptop (thinking of it as a sort of therapeutic exercise) it seems like you are just writing for yourself. No harm done. But then you look at the stats from the day and realize hundreds of people you don’t know and everyone googling “funny Wal-Mart stories” forevermore now know the embarrassing truth about your declining state of mind and the fact that there are just those days that you don’t have it all together. They know you are (gasp), REAL.
I have also revealed over the past few years that I suffer from a disease.
“Hi. My name is Staci and I am recovering from perfection-itis.”
Okay, so the disease is fake, but the symptoms were very real. Suffering from Perfection-itis years ago meant I based my contentment in life by how nearly perfect I could bring every portion of my life. How perfect my home was. How perfect my daily word was. How well-behaved my children were. How well I could orchestrate all these things at once. And let me tell you – it was, like, um…never!
Over and over my expectations were dashed on the rocky cliffs of attempts and failure. Exhaustion and dismay kept me bound, held prisoner by the unseen hand of the impossible.
Cooking and writing and nesting are things I love. There is nothing wrong with being passionate about how God has gifted us. Creativity is a blessing and I am grateful for it every day. But when the creativity became more of a burden and less of a joy, it was time to examine my priorities. It took a while (and some days I still have to “go to a meeting”) but I finally learned the important lesson that a happy mama makes a pretty perfect home. And time spent on the knees is what helps Mama get her happy on. And with a good dose of happy, the well-behaved children and the word count and the picked-up house all seem to find their respective spots on the list of priorities.
It’s a constantly changing list and – for each season of life – the changes seem to only grow. My system isn’t perfect, nor will it ever be. But I’m learning to to wholeheartedly embrace this one amazingly beautiful and imperfect life that I have been blessed with.
And that’s my random confession for the day.
contentment, laughter, life lessons, living simply
September 15, 2010 @ 11:11 am | Filed under: The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
“A dream is your creative vision for your life in the future. You must break out of your current comfort zone and become comfortable with the unfamiliar and the unknown.” – Denis Waitley
Contentment. Fear. Two emotions that seem to have no relation to one another and yet they have shimmied up to one another inside of me and have both become quite still. No pushing or shoving for a place of dominance. No arguments over which has the right of ownership inside my heart. Instead, they sit with their arms around one another as if to let me know that this is natural. It’s not something to fear. It’s something that will teach you.
I have never been more content nor more afraid of where God is guiding my life than I am right now.
I’m standing at the edge of the shore, watching the waves push new opportunities and experiences closer toward me as I dig my toes into the cool, course sand. There are some waves that I’m eager to reach for, to dive into and see what happens when I come up on the other side. These are moments when I glimpse a distant horizon – wonderous and magnificent. Anticipation pulses through me, and – in these moments – I reach for it, anxious to experience the beauty of what He has waiting for me.
These waves are easy.
Then there are the waves that I see coming from some distance away. They are giant and as they creep ever closer, it’s obvious that they will soon tower over me, swallowing me first in their shadow and then in their depth. I try to squelch the thumping of raw nerves in my veins and still the thudding of my breaking heart. These are the waves that promise the ride of a lifetime, but also carry with them the fear of the unknown. To jump into these depths means that I will follow God’s call for me and for my family, letting go of what has been my buoy and my lifeline for so long in order to go to where He is.
These waves are tougher.
I am afraid. I am nervous. I am feeling unsettled. My heart races and I have moments when I entertain the thought of crawling back to shore to complete and utter safety. To the known, the comfortable. And yet I cannot ignore the niggling in the depths of my being – the still, small voice that reminds me that You are ready for this. The past years have prepared my heart for this very moment in time. For this swim. For this wild, God-given adventure that will take me to ports of call I’ve not even thought to imagine.
I know what I will ultimately do. It’s what I always do. Because – for me – there has never been, and never will be, another choice except to follow. I will dive head first into the waves God puts before me, trusting that His great love for me will stand as lifeguard over my heart and life as I do my best to let His current take over and move me where He desires me to be.
I am content. I am still afraid. Two emotions that seem to have no connection reside like easy companions in my soul. I’m okay with them both. I uncurl my toes from the sand and take a few timid steps into the water. God’s call on my life swirls gently around my ankles as I move forward, encouraging me to step out in faith. He is waiting, arms outstretched to help me through the difficult moments. He tells me to come in, the water is fine.
I trust that.
devotions, faith, walk with God
September 14, 2010 @ 6:59 am | Filed under: Food and Drink,The Fit Life
Ingredients
| 2 tsp vegetable oil, divided | |
| 1 tsp sesame oil, divided | |
| 1 1/2 Tbsp ginger root, finely chopped | |
| 3 small garlic clove(s), finely chopped | |
 |
1 pound(s) uncooked boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1/2-inch pieces |
|
1 large sweet red pepper(s), cut into 1-inch pieces |
|
2 cup(s) broccoli, florets |
| 2 Tbsp low-sodium soy sauce | |
| 20 item(s) cashews, roasted, unsalted, roughly chopped | |
Instructions
Heat a large nonstick skillet over high heat. Add 1 teaspoon of vegetable oil, 1/2 teaspoon of sesame oil, ginger and garlic; cook 15 seconds. Add chicken and stir-fry until starting to brown, about 3 to 4 minutes; remove to a plate.
Add remaining teaspoon of vegetable oil, pepper and broccoli to same skillet; stir-fry for 3 minutes. Add chicken back to skillet, pour in soy sauce and cook, stirring, until chicken is cooked through, about 2 minutes more; toss with remaining 1/2 teaspoon of sesame oil. Sprinkle on cashews and serve. Yields about 1 3/4 cup per serving.
** A Weight Watcher recipe – 5 points
healthy recipes, Tasty Tuesdays
September 13, 2010 @ 6:24 am | Filed under: Family,Pure Sunshine
Yesterday we did the Big Table.
Mike and I stopped by Mom’s on the way to church. Knowing they had already left to attend the Grandparents’ Breakfast, I wanted to slip in and set the big table in preparation for our family lunch. We were armed with all things festive and fun, and it was my intention to do what I could to ease us all into this very special lunch.
This would be the first time we’d all gather around the big table since my grandfather’s passing in July. And that is quite a bit of time for a family that has racked up quite a sum of memories by spending hours at a time sitting around this very table – sharing stories, sharing laughter, even sharing a few tears from time to time…
Last Sunday we gathered for an impromtu lunch at Mom’s too, but we almost instinctively huddled around the much smaller table in the kitchen. No one ever said a word, but it was like we all knew that we weren’t quite ready to take on the big table yet. The emptiness of my grandfather’s chair – and the one next to it, for that matter, that my grandmother had always occupied – seemed powerfully empty.
But yesterday was a special day. We were gathering to celebrate Robyn’s birthday. And one of our family celebrations definitely calls for the big table, no question about it. Not just because my sister-in-law deserves it, which she certainly does, but because we all deserve the feeling that only comes when we gather in that way.
So we left home extra early, Mike and I, so we could swing by Mom’s first and set the table. As I walked into the semi-darkness of the dining room, I was prepared to feel almost anything. Except for maybe the wiggle of delight that made its way up my middle and all the way to my face when I flipped on the light and first glimpsed the table.
Mom had beat me to it.
She had opened the bags I’d left at her house earlier in the week and she’d set the table, fun and festive. Each place was set with care. Mike and I carefully added the touches we’d brought in silence and then quietly turned out the lights and left. A deep feeling of contentment mixed with anticipation welled inside of me. All was as it should be. The family celebration would be perfect. I just knew it.
And it was. Perfect. My nieces – who’ve always sat at the “kid’s table” in the kitchen received a promotion. They accepted their new seats at the big table with a maturity and a grace that made me proud. And we laughed. And we told stories. And we passed Kael. And we shared food, love, and made new memories.
We did the Big Table.
And it fed our hearts in the best way possible.
September 10, 2010 @ 6:49 am | Filed under: Books,The Writing Life
MELROSE MIRACLE
by Staci Wilder
Chapter Thirteen
Luke sat in the right-hand turn lane at the corner of Melrose and Turner. They’d wrapped up filming a half-hour ago and now he was headed home. Kurt, Ernie, and some of the crew were going to grab a burger from Jake’s Chop House, but Luke had begged off. He’d seen the knowing gleam in Kurt’s eyes as he’d climbed into his Expedition in the studio parking lot.
“Hey, man,” Kurt had propped an elbow on the rolled down window. “You really going home?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or are you going to find a certain pretty little waitress…er, I mean…girl, uh, woman?”
Luke could hardly fault his buddy. Ella Paglia was indeed in a class all her own. Pretty, yes. But not beautiful—not by LA’s standards anyway. Funny, absolutely. But not in a ‘I’m-going-to-make-you-laugh-now’ sort of way. It was subtle, and 100% natural. A woman, well…duh! Her delicate feminine curves—he was glad she had curves, too many walking popsicle sticks around here already—left no doubt she was a woman. But the innocence in her dark eyes when she gazed at him like she had the other night…
Ella Paglia was beauty and wit, infused with childlike wonder, and packaged in a delightful womanly form.
“I’m headed home,” he answered Kurt’s question now. “I’m not sure where Ella went.”
Kurt nodded. “Yeah, I heard a couple of the crew mention she seemed upset after her segment.” He shrugged and pulled away from the truck window. “But she’s not the only finalist that had a tough day. She shouldn’t have taken it so hard.”
Luke had no reply. What could he say? That Ella was just that type of woman—with ridiculously high standards for herself? That this contest was merely a springboard for the bigger dream in her life—a future of security for her small daughter? He couldn’t voice these things to Kurt. The guy already thought he was nuts. How could he explain that, in the course of a few days and several marathon hours of conversation, he’d “gotten” Ella. Understood her. Felt like he’d known her his whole life.
“All right, buddy.” Kurt waved him off. “If you change your mind about joining us, we’ll be at Jake’s.”
Now—scarcely five minutes later—Luke made a decision.
Flipping on the left-hand blinker, he twisted in his seat, signaling the driver in the lane next to him. Can I get over?, he mouthed. Waving his thanks, Luke steered the Expedition into the left lane as the light turned green. Making a U-turn, he headed back the way he’d come. Past Jake’s. Past the studio lots.
He headed to the Radisson.
Luke didn’t know where Ella was. He knew that what Kurt had said was true though. Ella had been upset with her performance during the afternoon challenge. What she didn’t know—couldn’t know—was that her slip on the floor was in no way at all the worst of the catastrophes that occurred in the competition today. Dirk completely lost his place with the teleprompter, rambling for a long three minutes about nonsense and never fully recovering. Deidra’s elbow had grazed a carton of eggs, sending an even dozen crashing to the floor during her demo.
Luke shrugged now. He was used to these things—they’d happened every day to some degree during his stint on It’s My Kitchen. Unfortunately Ella and the other finalists aimed for perfection, feeling that was the requirement for the winner of this competition. Luke knew it didn’t require perfection, just personality to persevere, ability to work hard, and the talent to do the job.
In his mind—Ella.
The finalists had been given a two-hour break between the final demo taping and the next elimination ceremony. Asked to return to Sound Stage C at seven o’clock sharp, Luke knew one of the seven would walk back out disappointed.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Radisson and found an empty space right up front. He didn’t know if Ella had taken a cab back here, but he sensed she probably needed a connection to home, to her heart. She would have come here for some private time to call Chloe. To reconnect with why she was even putting herself through this wringer of a competition.
His heart ached for her as he jogged to the rotating glass doors of the hotel. Frustrated by the slowly turning glass, he pushed against it, easing out as soon as he could. Once in the lobby, he headed for the front desk. He didn’t know Ella’s room number since they’d just sat in the lobby the other night. He’d wanted to walk her back to her room, but somehow it didn’t feel like the appropriate thing to do yet.
“Hello?” Luke leaned over the counter, trying to get the attention of the hotel clerk.
She looked up from her magazine. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” he rapped his knuckles against the marble counter. “Can you tell me what room number a Ms. Ella Paglia is listed under?”
The woman popped her gum and shook her head. “Sorry. Can’t give out room numbers.” She made a couple of clicks on the computer keyboard in front of her, then picked up a phone. “I’ll dial her room for you though.”
Luke waited for what seemed an eternity.
“Ms. Paglia? I have someone in the lobby who’d like to talk to you.” The woman glanced up at him and mouthed, what’s your name?
“Luke,” he whispered. “Luke Abney.”
“Ma’am, a Mr. Luke Abney is down in the lobby. Would you like to speak with him?”
“Mmhm. Very good, ma’am. Bye now.”
Luke watched with a sinking heart as the hotel clerk replaced the phone in its cradle. He’d never considered that Ella might not want to see him. That she might refuse the comfort he wanted to offer her. He ran a hand over his eyes, suddenly weary, and turned from the counter.
“Uh, sir, she said she’d be right down.”
His heart bounced inside his chest as he spun around. Grinning, he pointed at the hotel clerk. “Thank you! Thank you!”
The wait couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but Luke thought the elevator doors would never open. Even when they finally did, it wasn’t until three cars later that Ella stepped off.
He jumped up from where he’d perched on the arm of a chair. “Hey.”
In one glance, he drank in the sight of her, feeling a smile light his face. Her hair was loose, like he loved, and the crazy curls framed her face, somehow accenting the delicate features of her face. A pastel pink-button down was tucked into a slim denim skirt. Strappy matching sandals covered her feet, giving her maybe two more inches in height.
“Hi.”
Her smile was bright and steady and it wasn’t until they were face-to-face that Luke saw the evidence of tears not long dried.
“How are you?” His voice sounded husky, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “I…I was…worried about you.”
Ella shrugged and Luke was overcome again with how petite she was, her shoulders seeming so fragile with the simple movement. “I’m okay. Better now.”
“Did you call home? Talk to Chloe?”
The instant grin was genuine and torpedoed Luke’s heart. “Yeah. I did. How’d you know?”
It was his turn to grin, and he felt a blush begin to creep its way beneath the skin of his neck. If he wasn’t careful, he’d give away too much of himself, too quickly. “I don’t know. I just figured it was something you’d want to do.”
What he wanted to do was reach out and pull this delightful creature into his arms. Hold her and let her know that he didn’t care what any silly TV competition decided, she was the winner in his book. Instead he took her by the elbow, gently leading her to the nearby chairs.
“Well, you were right.” She curled up in the chair across from him, tucking her legs beneath her. “Chloe was glad to hear from me.” Ella shook her head, her curls bouncing. “Of course, she doesn’t understand the distance—the time—that we’re apart. And she’s having such a blast with her Aunt Reggie…”
Luke leaned forward, anchoring his elbows on his knees, and looked into her eyes. “I’m sure she misses her mama.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and she glanced away. Luke could have kicked himself. The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry again. “Hey, I’m sorry—.”
Ella laughed and waved away his comment. “Don’t be. I’m just being silly. It’s just—” she threw her arms wide open—“this competition is stressful and being away from Chloe is painful. Sometimes…sometimes it’s just too much, you know?”
Luke stood and pulled his chair closer to hers. He saw the hotel concierge look his way and knew he probably committed a faux paus, but he really didn’t care. Sinking down again, he did what he’d wanted to since the first day he’d met her. Lifting her hand from where it rested in her lap, Luke laced his fingers through hers. Feeling her smaller hand in his, skin-to-skin, sent a thrill of electricity through him. He instinctively wanted to take care of this woman.
If Ella was surprised by this, she didn’t let on. Instead he felt her fingers relax against his and he squeezed them. Resisting the urge to bring her hand to his lips, he contented himself with staring into her dark eyes. The tears were all but gone, now only a filmy brightness left in their wake.
“Is there anything I can do?” He felt helpless, and yet hopeful, all at once.
She giggled, and the sound filled his ears. “You’re doing it.”
Luke smiled and covered both their hands with his other. “If I’d known this was all you needed, I’d have been here a lot sooner.”
Ella gulped and Luke wondered if he’d made her cry again. But she recovered and instead laughed. “I guess you saw my graceful performance today, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Luke teased. “I saw grace in action. I mean, you must have set some kind of record for jumping to your feet again. And without ever letting go of that blasted lobster, no less!”
This time Ella’s laugh was from her gut, and Luke felt like he’d won something major, like the Pulitzer or the Nobel Peace prize. Something worthy. Something great.
Because sitting here in the Radisson lobby, with Ella Paglia’s hand tucked securely inside his own, listening to her laugh—this trumped all else Luke could imagine.
*****
Ella couldn’t believe she was sitting here, holding hands with Luke Abney. Her Mr. Blond. Yet talking and laughing with Luke felt as natural to her right now as cuddling with Chloe or chatting with Reggie.
“Let me see your foot.” Luke held out a hand.
“What?” Ella stared at him, not sure if she felt anticipation or pure horror. “Why?”
“Come on.” Luke grinned at her. “Trust me.” He bent down and reached for her foot. Slipping her sandal off he eased her foot onto his lap. “Okay, just relax now. Shut your eyes.”
Ella didn’t want to close her eyes. She wanted to look around and make sure no one was witnessing this embarrassing moment.
“If I’d have know you were going to do this, I would have—”
Her words trailed off as Luke’s fingers pressed into the sole of her foot. The pressure was exquisite and her eyes closed involuntarily.
“That’s it.” His voice was low and husky. “Relax and let me do the work.”
Ella felt the urge to giggle, but her body was doing just as he asked without waiting for her permission. After a few minutes, she opened one eye and peered at him. He was watching her face, his fingers still moving with slow, measured movements across her skin.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Ella didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer. She for sure didn’t want to know how many other woman may have experienced this.
Luke’s grin was lopsided, and partly sheepish. “I grew up watching my dad do this for my mom on days when us kids proved to be a handful.” He shrugged and his voice dropped another octave. “It always seemed to work.”
Ella did giggle now. “What are you saying? That she was putty in his hands after this?”
“Are you saying that you’re putty in my hands?”
Ella arched an eyebrow, but didn’t answer.
“Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?”
“What?” Ella laughed and eased her foot from his grasp. She slipped back into her shoe. “Wouldn’t that be against some rule? Me, a finalist and you, a network employee?”
“Nope.” Luke’s voice oozed pride. “I checked. I technically work for Dreamcaster Productions, not The Cooking Channel, so there’s no conflict of interest. I mean, I probably couldn’t marry you—until after the competition…”
Ella stared at him, her mouth open wide, speechless. His lopsided grin told her he was teasing. This felt good, being here with Luke. As though she were supposed to be here. That this place in time had been held for her and, now that she was here, all the pieces of her heart and soul seemed to come together in perfect unison.
Or almost perfect.
“Ella?” Luke’s voice turned serious. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”
Her mind went into instant freeze mode. Luke wanted to pray for her? This mixture of emotion and attraction she’d been feeling toward Luke Abney had left no time or room for her to consider things. Things like value systems and belief structures. Or church attendance or a belief in a higher power.
And now—out of the clear blue—was a non-too-subtle hint at where Luke Abney stood in the faith department. Ella wasn’t sure how she felt. She’d managed to keep her mind safely off such subjects for so long now…
“Uh…of course.” She nodded, knowing her hesitancy showed. What could it hurt, right? “Sure, you can pray for me.”
“Really?” Luke looked hopeful. “I just want you to go into this elimination thing tonight with peace.” He tapped his own chest. “You know, a really deep peace. So that no matter what happens, you know without a doubt you—and Chloe—are going to be all right.”
The lump lodged in Ella’s throat made it difficult for her to speak. It had been so long since someone had spoken words like these to her. Something inside her screamed for her to believe this man, to bow her head with him and give herself fully to this peace he spoke of.
But she couldn’t. She’d let him pray for her. Ella knew her heart would allow no more than that. There was a time—not too long ago—when this would have been the most natural thing in the world, to bow her head and pray in faith. But that was before…
Ella knew better now. Sometimes prayer didn’t accomplish a thing.
Free Fiction Fridays, Staci Wilder books, summer reads, writing
