Catch a Falling Star (6 page)

“No,” Billy said. “I need to find my sister.”

“I’ll see you later then.” Justine gave him a nod and limped slightly as she walked away from the canopy.

As usual, something that seemed like a good idea at the time turned into a bad one very quickly. Justine regretted leaving her cane at home, and she should have asked Billy to get some bottled water for her and Azalea. Because he would have done it for her. That was the kind of man Billy Tucker was.

So why should she feel jealous at the mere thought of someone waiting for him when he came home after deployment? She hardly knew him, and she wasn’t planning on staying here any longer than necessary.

A warm breeze lifted the ends of Justine’s hair as she drew closer to the concession stand. If someone saw her and took her picture. . .

So far no one seemed to care that she was in Starlight, and if things went well, no one would. At least no one who worked for any national gossip magazine or news show.

Neil was good at damage control, and he’d assured her the other night that he’d clear up the mess with her California home.

“It’s a misunderstanding, Justine. Only a misunderstanding that I can clear up with a few receipts and some phone calls,” he’d said the other night during a thirty-minute phone conversation. “You just work on getting back into shape, healed up, and I’ll have you out there again within six months.”

Before Christmas time, she’d be back in California and getting on with her life. Which is why she didn’t need to think about a soldier-turned-boot-maker-slash-rancher-slash carpenter. She just had to think about getting completely whole again.

If God healed the broken, she sure hoped He’d do a quick fix on her. She'd started reading from the book of Psalms, all because of that one little verse the flight attendant had given her the night she arrived. Good reading. If God could do all that the psalmist said He could, she could use a little help like that.

A mother and daughter got in line with her at the concession stand, and the daughter’s face lit up with a flash of recognition. “Mom. . .”

“What?”

“That’s Justine Campbell in front of us. It looks just like her.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Justine had heard the same before and studied the menu board. Ice water would do nicely. She debated about turning around and saying hello.

“It
is
her. I know it is.”

“No, no,” came the mother’s voice. “The real Justine Campbell is prettier.”

Justine bit her lip and touched the scar on her chin.
The real Justine Campbell
. She ordered her bottled waters, paid for them, and headed back to the canopy without another look at the people behind her.

The simple phrase ricocheted through her mind as she trudged back in the direction of Azalea’s canopy. She was real, all right. But the image that she and Neil had painstakingly crafted for her career? Who was that?

She should never have come back here. If only she’d had the energy to follow Tyler to New Zealand. She’d been kidding herself, though. She knew what it was like while shooting films. The very idea that Ty had time to go out while shooting was ridiculous.

“Justine.”

She’d came face-to-face with an older version of herself, but with red hair.

“Mom. I. . . I called the other night.”

Her mother hugged her, in spite of the water Justine carried. She should have felt some warmth in her mother’s hug, but it felt as cool as the bottles in her hand.

“I meant to call you back.” Cynthia Campbell had aged well. Justine had that much to be grateful for with her family genetics. Her hair skimmed her shoulders, and the choppy layers gave the reddish locks a bit of movement.

“That’s okay. I know you’re busy. Um, I like your hair.”

“Thanks, thanks.” Her mother slid a few strands of hair over one ear. “I was away for a few days at a hair and coloring seminar in Austin and came back with this style. I love it. I quit my cashier job at Wal-Mart, and I'm running the salon full-time now. Don't know if I told your or not.”

Didn’t Mom see her limp, or the scars on her hand? Or the one on her chin and jaw? What kind of mother didn’t care about her child’s wounds and scars? But then the last few times they’d spoken, Justine had hurled her own barbed words across the phone line at her mother.

You’re so self-righteous, who made you judge?

I’d rather offend God than you. At least God will forgive me!

Justine chose her words more carefully this time. “I don’t know if I mentioned in my message, but I’m back here for a while. Getting physical therapy. I have one surgery next month, but the plastic surgeon wants to go over my records first.” There. She’d filled her mom in.

“Maybe we can have lunch sometime. Or come by the shop.” Something or someone behind Justine caught her mother’s attention . “Here’s my business card.” She handed it to Justine without glancing at her.

A Cut Above: Cut and Color by Cynthia Campbell.

“Nice, Mom. That’s great you’re doing so well.”

“Well, yeah. The Lord’s really blessing me for staying faithful to the path. Hey, I see someone I really need to speak with. Gertrude, head of the Chamber of Commerce. Come see me at the shop sometime, Justine.”

“Okay, I will.”

And then her mother was off, back into her own sheltered and protected world where Justine was only a reminder of her failure as a parent.

Her mother zoomed over to a blond in a snazzy-looking outfit with denim capris and a matching jacket. Maybe the outfit made her slightly overdressed for today’s outdoor market, but Justine supposed everyone had an image to keep up.

The idea made her laugh to herself as she continued on her way back to Azalea. Even in a place as small as Starlight, the proverbial small pond had some rather large fish.

Her heart still stung, especially at Mom’s words about the Lord’s blessing. Yup, Mom was right. Justine’s literal crash and burn was definitely a sign from God that He was
not
blessing Justine. If that was how things worked.

Be good, make your parents happy, don’t follow that wide road to perdition, or else. . .

Justine’s swirling thoughts followed her all the way back to Azalea’s booth. Becoming a hermit sounded better all the time. No wonder Neil reminded her about the importance of controlling her image. The idea wore her out now.

“Oh, good,” Azalea said as Justine slipped under the canopy and handed her a bottle of water. “I’m positively parched.”

Justine opened her own bottle and took a cooling sip. The icy liquid soothed the inner turmoil. “I just saw my Mom.”

“How did that go?” Azalea touched Justine’s arm, the gesture more comforting than her mother’s hug.

“About as well as could be expected. She told me about her salon.” Justine shrugged. “She looks more like thirty-six than forty-six. I can’t believe it’s been six years since I’ve seen her.”

“Oh, don’t make forty-six sound so ancient. I’m seventy-one, and forty-six is almost a baby’s age.” Azalea chuckled and patted her own hair. “And sweetie, you’ll be able to catch up with her while you’re here.”

“I hope so.” Justine watched a mother and daughter pass by together, talking and laughing. The daughter was probably nineteen or twenty. The two of them laughed at a wooden bird feeder shaped like a cat, where birds could eat birdseed out of the open mouth.              

To walk along with her mother, almost like a friend. No pressure, no stress. Justine wasn’t proud of all her actions since she’d left Starlight, but she’d aimed high. She hadn’t gone to Hollywood like many young women, ending up waiting tables or in a dead-end job or, worse, on the street.

She could have followed the road to perdition right here in Starlight just as easily, sitting on the same pew each Sunday. Mom didn’t get it and probably never would.

The mother-daughter pair drifted over to Azalea’s booth, still laughing as they looked back at the crazy bird feeder.

“You should get it for Grandma and put it up for Christmas,” said the daughter.

“Maybe I will.” The mother took a closer look at the vintage jewelry display on one of Azalea’s table. “Look at these pieces.”

Those came from an estate sale in Belton,” said Azalea. “They’re one-of-a-kind brooches and earrings.”

“You should get these,” the mother said to the daughter. “The blue matches your eyes.” She held up the clip-on, sparkly earrings.

“They’re gorgeous,” said the daughter. “But I don’t know. . . .”

“Well, I’ll get them for you.” The mother set them down and whipped out her wallet from her purse. “Call it an early birthday present.”

“Really?”

“I know you’ve been saving money for college.”

With that, Azalea took the money and wrapped up the earrings for the ladies.

Justine watched the two of them leave and pass along to the next vendor stall. Her heart hurt. The physical therapist had told her there would be pain as she healed and regained full function of her wrists, hands, and leg. The same was probably true about her heart. She sighed. “I wish my mom and I got along like that.”

“Give it time, Justine. God and time can work wonders,” Azalea said.

She nodded, not sure she believed Azalea. Then she looked down at her hands. “In the meanwhile, I need to find a place around here that does a good manicure.” A little pampering would be a perfect pick-me-up.

#              #              #

Billy pulled into the driveway after seeing Maddie off to a friend’s house for the night. It was summertime, and she was a kid, so that meant swimming and a barbecue, the giggles of girls and laughing into the night.

Oh, to be a carefree kid again. Tremonte probably wanted that, as did he. Billy thought of the phone number tucked in his shirt pocket. Justine had shown her caring heart today.

She’d actually paid the family’s bill. It was probably pocket change to her, but to the Tremontes the six hundred or so dollars was steep.

Maybe she’d blown money in Beverly Hills once upon a time. But her latest actions showed him her heart was headed in the right direction. Not a frivolous, wild-spending party girl of the tabloids.

Billy couldn’t understand, though, why she’d tensed up when they started talking about someone waiting at home for him. He’d liked the idea, once. He and Tamarind had exchanged a few e-mails during his deployment, but she was only a friend. Even though she had clearly left the door open for more, if he so chose.

He wasn’t about to choose, not now. He didn’t know when.

He stopped the truck next to Jake’s pickup and looked along the dirt road that led to the cottage. A new porch gleamed in the sun. He and Jake and Maddie spent one afternoon painting it with weather sealer. His sister was already fussing about getting the place decorated.

Billy knew exactly who to invite for a weekend.

He left the truck and hurried into the cool house to make the phone call.

Kevin Tremonte answered on the third ring. “Tremonte.” His voice held a wary tone.

“Hey, it’s Tucker.”

“Hey Sarge, what’s up?” The wariness still clung to Tremonte’s voice.

“Not much,” Billy replied. “Just seeing how you were doing.”

“I’m livin’ man, just livin’.”

“Did you move?”

“Yeah, we live on post now. Holly and the kids are getting back from her mom’s soon. So, how you been? Heard you were pretty bad off for a while.”

“Doing better, doing better. I got out in January, finally cleared.”

“Good luck to you finding a job in this market. But with your veteran’s rating you ought to be able to find something around here.”

“Actually, I was calling to ask you if your family could use some R & R.”

“I’d like to take ’em somewhere, but, uh, we can’t really do that now.”

Bill sensed the reason was money. “How about coming to my place for a weekend? We’ve got plenty of acreage. I just finished fixing up a cottage you can stay in. One bedroom, but the kids could sleep on the foldout couch. We have a small fish pond, some hiking trails, and horses. I’m planning to make a fire pit so you can cook out or roast marshmallows.” He was making this up as he went along, but as he did so, he realized how much he wanted to help make a difference, even one family at a time. “We’ve got a good view, too.”

“I. . . I’ll talk to Holly about it. Is this a good number to call you back at?”

“Yes, it’s my cell.” Billy searched the fridge for something edible. Jake entered the kitchen, wearing a quizzical expression.

“I’ll call you when we figure something out,” said Tremonte.

“Sounds great. I’ll talk to you then.”

Sounds like a plan.”

ended the call and looked at his brother, who’d poured a glass of iced tea.

“Did you invite a family out to the cottage?” asked Jake.

“Yup. I found Tremonte from my old unit. He’s had a hard time of it. Figured his family could use a weekend, too.” Billy went on to explain about Justine finding the scrapbook and helping him get back in touch with Tremonte.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Jake asked.