Hello, Hollywood! (22 page)

When the noise in the room finally lowered to a dull roar, Milo gave me a hug. “Sweet girl, you’ve been so kind to this old man.”

“You’re easy to love, Milo. Truly.”

“Well, you’ve made my day. And because you have, I think it’s finally time to make yours.”

“Make my day?” I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

He clapped his hands to get the attention of everyone in the room. “Pappas family, I have an announcement. Something I’ve been hoping to share for a while. Just wanted to wait till the time was right. I know in my heart this is the day.”

Melina’s eyes sparkled. Had he popped the question? Did he plan to do so now, in front of her whole family? I didn’t have a clue, but he’d hooked me with his line. Maybe Milo had missed his calling as a writer. He certainly had a penchant for grabbing the audience by the throat and holding them captive.

Shut up, Athena, and just let him make his announcement.

For once I actually took my own advice. I closed my mouth, leaned against the counter, and waited for Milo to speak his mind.

Milo paced the room, not saying anything for a moment. Finally he turned to us, a suspicious smile on his face. “Pappas family, there’s something I need to tell you. Or, rather, something I need to give you.” He reached into his coat pocket and came out with a small envelope, which he passed to my mother.

“Another letter?” she said. It trembled in her hand.

He nodded. “From your aunt Athena. It was written several days before she passed away. I’ve carried it for months, waiting for the right moment.”

“You’re just now giving it to me?”

“Yes. I was given specific instructions about how and when to share it with you. I’m sorry about that, but I had to follow those instructions. You will understand shortly.”

Wow. Talk about getting my curiosity up. This was better than any suspense novel.

Mama gently opened the envelope, her hands still shaking. She pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

“It’s in Greek,” she whispered.

“Do you want me to translate?” Milo asked. “I’m happy to do it if you like.”

Mama shook her head. “No. I think I’d better read this one myself. I can do it.”

I looked on as she scanned the page, trying to guess what it might say. By the time she reached the bottom of the first page, her eyes had filled with tears. And by the time she finished the letter altogether, those tears ran in little rivers down her cheeks.

“
Kyrie eleison,
” Mama whispered.

We all echoed, “Lord, have mercy.”

What he was having mercy
on
, I couldn’t be sure. But it must be something big.

“Mama, what did she say?” I asked at last. “Tell us.”

My mother’s hands shook so violently as she attempted to fold the letter that it slipped through her fingers and drifted to the floor.

I reached down and picked it up. “Is it okay to let Stephen translate it?”

She nodded and stammered “yes,” then dropped into a chair and began to cry.

We’ll deal with this. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.

I passed the letter to Stephen, who began to read aloud as I looked over his shoulder. By the time he finished the first paragraph, my heart began to thump so hard that I thought I might pass out. “Mama . . .”

“I know.” Her eyes grew wide as she looked at Stephen. “Keep reading.”

And so he did. The second paragraph shed light on the first, and by the time he got to the third one, I could barely contain my tears. “Oh, Mama, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it.”

“Me either.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “Oh, sweet Athena. Everything I ever believed about you was wrong.” Mama looked up at us through her tears. “She did love me. She did.”

“Obviously.” I paused to think about what Stephen had just read. It changed everything. Absolutely everything. “So, let me get this right. The whole thing about sending Zeus to us was really just a test?”

Milo nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” He paused. “Well, in part. She really did want to find a good home for him. But all of it was done with a purpose in mind.”

Mama rose and put her hand on Milo’s arm. “Please tell me I’ve read that letter correctly. I’ve inherited a million-dollar estate in Athens?”

“Two million, actually,” he said. “Give or take. But yes, it’s yours. She only had two conditions—that ninety days after receiving Zeus you would have adopted him as your own, and that you would learn to love me as part of the family. You’ve done both.”

“Oh yes, you’re definitely family.” Melina gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But that dog . . .”

“Technically, we passed him off to Stephen,” Mama said. “Does it really count?”

“Stephen is part of your family, yes?” Milo asked.

Stephen drew me close and planted a kiss on my forehead. “For all practical purposes, yes. And you’d be hard-pressed to tell my daughter she’s not kin. She’s pretty much adopted all of you.”

“We’ve adopted her too,” I said.

Stephen nodded. “And as long as Zeus stays with us, he stays in the Pappas family. You can take those words to the bank.”

I would. As soon as I got my heart to slow down.

“There you go,” I said at last. “It’s all settled. We’re one big happy family.”

Even as I spoke the words, the greatest thrill filled my soul. Stephen, Brooke, and I really did feel like one big happy family. Okay, Stephen, Brooke, Zeus, and I. Not that I minded the little Greek dog. He’d forever linked me to the man of my dreams. And apparently he linked my mama to a story that stretched back nearly fifty years. Who knew?

“Obviously we passed Mean-Athena’s test,” Babbas said. “Interesting, since we didn’t know we were being tested.”

“Is this really true?” I looked at Milo, still not quite believing it. “You’re going to have to give us more details. Help us understand.”

He nodded. “It’s all true. Every word. In spite of Athena’s desire to keep her family’s estate, I tried to persuade her to marry me . . . live with me in my home . . . but she refused.”

“That’s so sad,” I said.

“Yes, she died a lonely old woman who never knew love, and all so that she could preserve the estate for future generations. But, as you can tell from her letter, she regretted her decision all of her life. All she ever wanted was love from family . . . and from a husband.” His eyes filled with tears. “The husband she never had.”

“And so she left the house to Mama so that it would stay in the family?” I asked.

“Well, that, and she wanted your mother to know the truth, that love comes before possessions. That’s why she sent the dog. And me.” He grinned. “She wanted that message to ring out loud and clear. And I’m so glad you passed the test.”

“I just can’t believe she left the house to me.” Mama shook her head, a stunned expression on her face. I could tell she wasn’t quite buying this story. “Milo, you’re convinced this is legitimate? Do you have the legal documents?”

“Yes, I’ve had them all along. I only had to wait the ninety days stipulated in the letter to make sure you didn’t give up on Zeus. He had to become part of the family.”

“That crazy dog,” Melina said. “Who would have known?”

“Hey, that’s a two-million-dollar dog,” my father said. “For that we’ll put up with his antics. No problem. From now on he drinks out of a gold bowl.”

“Well, he came from the lap of luxury,” Milo said. “Athena gave him every good thing from the time he was a pup. He had the run of her estate.”

Mama’s tears began again. “Oh, you’ve triggered such memories. That home! That beautiful home. The two years I lived with Athena were lonely—she wasn’t really one to play with me—but I spent hours exploring her incredible estate. You’ve never seen such luxury. It was a little intimidating for a child, but it left a lasting impression on my mind. I’ve never seen anything since to compare.”

“She never really flaunted her money,” Milo explained. “So it wasn’t a prideful thing. But she did have an amazing home. We’re talking about a house that’s nearly two hundred years old.”

“Wow.” That was about all I could manage. I thought about Aunt Athena’s dilemma—to keep the home or to marry the man she loved. She’d missed her opportunity because something got in the way. And now, all of these years later, I stood facing the man I loved, determined not to let my work, my writing, get in the way. I didn’t want any “lost” years. I didn’t want to get to the end of my life and face regrets for poor choices. No way.

“I want you to know something, as Athena’s family members.” Milo paced the room, then finally stopped and faced us. “I was young when I fell in love with Athena, but my feelings were very real. And I know now that it broke her heart to send me away. I believe that’s why, in the end, she wanted to make sure the people she loved saw me as part of the family. I thank God that she still cared enough about me to include me in all of this, and I so clearly see the puzzle pieces coming together now.”

“The people she loved . . .” Mama shook her head. “That’s the strangest part of all. She rarely showed that love, if at all.”

“Maybe that’s why it was so important to her that you show love for her.” Milo shook his head and drew Aunt Melina close. “I don’t know. I only know that she sent me on this mission and I came, not knowing what awaited me in America. Now I know, and it has changed everything.”

“Everything,” Melina whispered as she leaned her head against his.

“I let my first love slip away from me,” Milo said. “I will not let you slip away, Melina. I will die before I let you go.” He eased himself down on one knee, and a collective gasp went up from the crowd, including the customers. “So, with that said, would you do me the great honor—”

He never had the chance to finish his sentence. Her resounding “Yes! Yes! Yes!” filled the room from top to bottom, side to side. Stephen extended a hand and helped Milo stand. The process took a few seconds, but he finally managed. Once standing, Milo swept my aunt into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss.

Looked like they’d better get married . . . and quick.

“Oh, look, honey,” a customer said, pointing our way. “I think they must be acting out a scene from a movie. Do you think there are hidden cameras in the room?” She began to fuss with her hair. “Maybe we’re on television right now.”

“No, they’re not acting,” I told her. “It’s the real deal, trust me. None of this was scripted.”

Nope. None of it was scripted. And yet, it was some of the best writing I’d ever seen.

Only one person I knew of could write a scene like that. He didn’t need a laptop, and he didn’t need the help of fellow writers. All he looked for was willing hearts.

A cheerful “opa!” rang out, and Babbas turned up the sound system so that the Greek music played even louder.

Mama pulled several of the customers into our circle and taught them the dance. One poor woman looked like she’d rather bolt, but we eventually got a smile out of her.

Wasn’t that what life was like? You went into the dance not knowing where it might take you. Not knowing the steps. Not having a feel for what was around the next bend. But once the music got going—once someone took you by the hand—the steps came so easily you felt as if you’d known them all your life.

My gaze shifted to Stephen. When I held his hand, when I listened to his voice, when I shared my heart with him, I realized I’d become comfortable with our dance.

The yeast had done its work. The loaf of bread had finished baking. Now we chose to break it together—to celebrate the goodness that only love from a gracious heavenly Father could bring.

I’d heard of short engagements before, but never one that lasted less than a week. Melina and Milo got engaged on Monday and married the following Sunday after church. Our pastor was happy to perform the nuptials. I’d never seen a more radiant bride or a more eager groom. And why not? They had everything in the world to celebrate.

I thought about their whirlwind romance as I drove to the office the following Monday morning. I’d been so distracted that I’d actually forgotten to bring leftovers. Paul and Bob would be miffed, but there was nothing I could do about that. Surely they would understand. I hoped. They’d been in great moods lately, after all. Maybe I’d swing for Chinese takeout. Try something new for a change. Get off the script. Fly by the seat of my pants.

I arrived at the studio to see Lenora and Rex getting out of her pink Cadillac. She looked radiant in a cream-colored gown. In fact, I’d never seen her more beautiful.

“Oh, Lenora!” I gasped. “That’s the prettiest one yet. Who are you?”

“Who am I?” She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, which movie star are you today? Ginger Rogers? Doris Day?”

The strangest expression followed—almost blank. “Why, I’m Lenora Worth, star of stage and screen. Perhaps you’ve seen my movies.”

A hush fell over our little trio. Rex looked at me with tears in his eyes and gave me a little shrug. “She is quite the star, is she not?”

“She is,” I whispered.

He took her by the arm and led her across the parking lot as she rambled on about some movie she’d filmed in the fifties. My heart lurched—partly because I realized she was truly slipping away from us, and partly because of his tender love toward her. Talk about laying your life down for others.

Surely the Lord must be smiling on their relationship. I knew I was. And though Rex probably faced some tough times ahead, he seemed to be taking it in stride. Likely he wasn’t spending his days asking where his journey fell on the plotline. Instead, he just lived life to the fullest, taking advantage of every moment.

I entered the studio, smiling as I walked through the redecorated set. I thought about all of the changes to the cast and crew this year and how the actors, young and old, had played along. God bless them all. They’d made my job so much easier and much more fun.

“Your dress is beautiful today, Lenora,” Jason called out.

“Why, thank you!” she said. “My mother thanks you. My father thanks you. My sister thanks you. And I thank you.”

For a moment he said nothing. Then a smile lit his face. “Oh, I know this one.
Yankee Doodle Dandy
. James Cagney. 1946.”

“1942,” Lenora said with a wink. “But good try.”

I marveled at her ability to remember lines from movies when everything else in her life seemed to be fading. Still, for whatever reason, it gave me hope that she would be with us for some time to come.

Pausing by the makeup room, I waved at Nora, who worked on Candy’s hair. “Good morning.”

“Same to you.” She lifted the curling iron and waved it my way. “You look chipper this morning.”

“I feel chipper this morning.”

She turned back to Candy, who appeared to be giving Nora advice on her love life. The girl chattered on and on. Nora didn’t appear to find this strange at all. Instead, she paused every few seconds to take notes. “Oh, that’s a good one,” she said. “I’ll have to try that.” They both laughed.

What a crazy world I lived in. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Next I passed Jana, offering a cheerful, “Welcome to a new week!”

“Can’t wait to see what you writers come up with this week,” she said with a wink.

“Me either.” I chuckled. That was half the fun, after all. Coming up with something new and fresh. Giving the reins to God and seeing where his inspiration led.

As I made the trek down the hall, I thought about that verse in Genesis about how the Spirit of God hovered over the waters during creation. Goose bumps ran down my arms as I envisioned what that must have been like. When I gave my writing gift over to God—when I stepped back and allowed him to create—he truly took control. His Spirit hovered over the waters of that creation. What an awesome, powerful thought. I could hardly wait to tell Stephen.

I walked into the office, stunned to find the furniture back in place. Stephen sat at the desk, typing away on the old typewriter. Hanging my purse up on the coat rack, I looked at him.

“Stephen?”

“Yes?” He barely glanced up from the typewriter.

“Something you want to tell me?”

“Yes.” Another quick glance and a smile. “You were right about the room. The whole
Dick Van Dyke
ambience is very inspirational. I’ve been writing all morning.”

“Writing a scene for the show?”

“No. Writing something else. I think you’re going to like it.” He yanked the paper from the typewriter and teased me with it. I grabbed for it but he wouldn’t let go. “Have a seat.”

“Are you going to read it to me?”

“Maybe.”

I took a seat on the divan and watched as Stephen headed my way. He tripped over the ottoman and did a crazy somersault.

I gasped, but he popped up and grinned. “Saw that on
The Dick Van Dyke Show
. Opening credits. Thought you might enjoy it.”

Good grief. My heart rate slowed back down to normal. “Do you mind if I ask what in the world you’re up to?”

“Oh, just wrote a little script. A story about the two of us.”

“O-oh? You’re writing our story now? I thought only God could do that.”

“Well, I took a few liberties. Came up with a little somethin’-somethin’.” He held out the piece of paper, and for the first time I noticed his hand was trembling. “Would you read your lines? I’ll read mine.”

“You’ve scripted our conversation?”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded. “C’mon. Play along, okay?”

“Okay.” I took the script in hand. “But if you say one more thing about where I am on the plotline of life, I’m going to smack you.”

Stephen laughed. “No. Nothing about that plotline, I promise. Where we are in the grand scheme of things is God’s business.”

“And yet you’re scripting our lines.”

He wiggled his eyebrows in playful fashion. “Just for this scene. Read already.”

“Okay, okay.” I looked at the page and began to read, using my best acting voice. “Stephen, I’m so glad you came to Los Angeles. I don’t know where I’d be right now if I hadn’t found you. You’re the handsomest, kindest, sweetest . . .” I shook my head. Looking up from the paper, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now I see what you’re up to.”

He cleared his throat. “Keep reading.”

“Okay.” I read a few more glowing words about Stephen’s character, then did a double take as I glanced at the next words. “It . . . it says Stephen gets down on one knee.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He did just that.

My heart went a little crazy at this point. Surely this was all some sort of play-acting. Right?

“It says . . .” I shook my head again. “Stephen pulls out ring box.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He reached into his pocket and came out with a tiny box.

At that moment, the door to the office flew open, and Bob and Paul walked inside with Rex and Lenora behind them. They were followed by Kat and Scott and then my parents. After them came Milo and Melina, and then Brooke, who’d obviously skipped school. Jana, Nora, and the rest of the crew slipped in next. Before long, our tiny office was maxed out.

“I, um . . . I don’t see anything about all of them in the script.” I pointed to the page. “Are we off the page?”

“They’re in there.” Stephen grinned. “Just read between the lines.”

“I see.” So he’d been planning this all along. How had it eluded me? He’d planned to propose on a Monday morning in our office? Only a writer would get the significance of that.

He wiggled his eyebrows again. “You know what a plotter I am. I think it’s time to toss the script, though, and do the rest of this by the seat of my pants.”

I tossed the paper in the air. It landed on the edge of the piano.

Lenora came rushing our way. “Are you proposing, young man?”

“Trying to,” he said. “But not doing a very good job of it.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful.” She leaned against the desk and sighed. “I wish I had some popcorn.”

“Popcorn?” Rex asked as he took her by the arm and eased her back a couple of feet. “Why?”

“I love popcorn when I watch a really good show, and I have a feeling this one’s going to be a doozy.”

Oh, it was a doozy, all right. Our “Stephen and Athena Get Engaged” scene had pretty much taken on a mind of its own.

“Tell her that you love her, Stephen,” Lenora suggested.

“That you can’t live without her,” Brooke added, her eyes filled with tears.

“That you want her to have a whole family of soccer ball babies,” Bob threw in.

I slapped myself in the head at that one.

“And you plan to stick with her, no matter what life throws your way,” Paul said.

We all turned to look at him.

“Hey, that’s where I went wrong with my ex. We didn’t go into it with a ‘forever’ way of thinking.” He smiled. “We’re working on that now, by the way. We’ve made a lot of progress.”

We all began to cheer. For a moment I thought Stephen was going to stand up. Forget about his plan to propose. Fortunately, Lenora put her hand on his shoulder and told him to keep going.

He did.

His next words were completely off the script. Not that it really mattered. I couldn’t remember one thing he said once it was spoken. I was too distracted by the tears in his eyes and the pure joy radiating out of his smile. Well, that, and the fantastically large princess-cut diamond in the now-open ring box.

When he finished, I gave him a resounding “Yes!” and everyone began to shout. The ring went on my finger, and the women gathered around, Brooke leading the way, to examine the merchandise. My heart raced like never before, and all the more as I examined the ring.

I’m getting married? I’m getting married!

“Ooo, that was a great proposal,” Lenora said, grabbing my hand and leaning down to see the shimmering diamond. She turned to Stephen. “But you need to kiss her now. Seal the deal.”

“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.” Stephen rose and pulled me into his arms. He whispered, “I’m so sorry, Athena. I’m not sure how you feel about this happening in front of a crowd, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

I laughed. “Stephen, every major event of my life has happened in front of a big crowd. That’s what happens in Greek families. You share it all together—the joys, the sorrows . . .”

He put his finger over my lips. “No sorrows today. We’ve been through enough of those. Only joys from now on.”

“Oh? You’ve penciled in joy but not sorrow? What about conflict? What about having a plotline that moves up and down, in and out? Our story won’t be much fun if it’s all joy.”

“You two are crazy,” Kat said. “You do know that, right? Do you always interrupt your love scenes to analyze them?”

Stephen and I looked at each other for a moment and then laughed.

“Yep,” I said.

“Sorry if that blows any romantic notions,” Stephen said. “But we’re just a couple of crazy writers who overanalyze everything. That’s what makes us so perfect for each other.”

“Crazy can be good,” Bob said. “You wouldn’t want the writer of the show to be normal, after all. How boring would that be?”

“Yes, how boring would that be?” I whispered in the ear of my husband-to-be.

“Back in the old days, a Greek man would propose to a Greek woman by tossing an apple to her,” Milo said. “Anyone got a fruit basket lying around?”

“Skip the fruit,” I said. “His proposal was perfect. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

My father drew near, a somber expression on his face. Uh-oh. I could feel something coming, and it wasn’t going to be good.

“We’re not quite done here yet,” he said. “There’s one more piece of business to attend to.”

“O-oh?” Stephen paled. “I . . . I asked you for her hand, sir. You said yes.”

“Yes. I agreed that you could ask for her hand,” Babbas said, looking far too serious. “But have you forgotten my rule? Do you not remember what I once said about the Greek national anthem?”

Oh, help.

My father looked straight at Stephen. “Any man worthy of my daughter has to memorize all 158 verses.”

I saw the look of panic in Stephen’s eyes. Clearly he’d forgotten this little tidbit.

Or had he?

With voice shaking, he dove into the first verse. We all sang it with him. Well, those of us who were Greek, anyway. Jana and Nora looked a little lost, as did Bob and Paul.

As we sang, my heart swelled with pride. I thought of Mean-Athena and how her story had ended. She’d gone her whole life without love, only to share the greatest kind of love in the end. I wanted to know love firsthand. To taste it, feel it, experience it. As a married woman.

That’s why I was particularly thrilled when Stephen made it through verse two. And three. And four.

He hit verse five and kept going, mesmerizing us all with his memorization skills. Things got a little iffy around verse eleven, and I knew we were in trouble when he got to the seventeenth verse. In fact, I was pretty sure he made up about half of it. Some of the words didn’t even match, and he had that “I’m not sure what I’m doing here” look in his eye. Still, he plowed ahead. I had to give him credit for trying.