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Authors: Lesley Crewe

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BOOK: Ava Comes Home
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“I know.”

“You don't want to share the limelight, is that it?” He looked and sounded pissed off, just as Ava knew he would be.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

Hayden looked away for a moment before turning back. “This would be a golden opportunity for me to be seen around the globe. I'm not as big a star as you are, and you know that. I could use the publicity.”

“Of course the Oscars are all about you.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Were you nominated for an award, or was it me? I forget.”

Just then Ava noticed Lola making her way towards them. It was clear that Hayden was hurt, and Ava hated hurting people. The trouble was she was good at it. She grabbed the drink from Lola, downed it and asked for another.

Lola gave her a funny look. “Are you sure? Isn't one your limit?”

Ava glanced at Hayden's brooding face. “Not tonight.” She reached for his hand. “Come dance with me.”

He resisted at first, but she knew the offer was too tempting. Hayden wanted every man in the room to know that he was with the famous Ava Harris. To rub their noses in it would suit Hayden just fine.

And she was right. He put his drink down on the glass table and followed her into the crowd of swaying bodies. Famous young men and women grooved to the music. Ava smiled at him and put her arms in the air as she moved her body, turning around so that her back was to him. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. They gyrated against each other, her arms slipping behind her head to caress the nape of his neck as his hands roamed her fabulous curves.

Hayden soon forgot all about the Oscars.

Ava slipped out of bed the morning of the big day with dark circles under her eyes. She showered and went downstairs to find that her housekeeper had arrived at the crack of dawn and had a full breakfast waiting for her in the sunroom.

Pouring a large mug of coffee, Ava smiled at Mercedes. “I don't think I'll be able to eat all this. It looks delicious, though.”

Mercedes hovered over the serving dishes filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and ham. “You have to have something. You won't be eating again until the Governor's Ball tonight.”

They heard the side door open and close. “It's only me!”

Lola skipped into the room. “I should've stayed here last night because I didn't sleep a wink at home. Oh, Mercedes, you didn't make your famous blueberry pancakes by some miracle of miracles?”

Mercedes whipped off the cover of a chrome platter to expose a thick stack of them. “Do you think I'd forget you?”

Lola gave her a big kiss. “I love you.” She sat at the table and helped herself to three of them. “Are you having any, Ava?”

“No. Harold would kill me. I have to fit in that dress tonight.” She reached for a small helping of eggs and took a half a piece of whole wheat toast. “This is as much as I dare eat.”

“I'll put a granola bar in your purse,” Lola said with her mouth full. “You can shovel it in when you go to the loo.”

“Don't forget a pack…”

“…of Juicy Fruit gum. I know. I know.”

The rest of the day was all about pampering. A Swedish masseuse arrived after breakfast to give the two friends a relaxing massage, followed by a visit to Ava's favourite manicurist at a chic downtown spa. After their French manicure, pedicure, and facial, Harold and Maurice arrived and they got down to serious business.

“With that neckline we need to pull your hair back,” Maurice suggested. “That way we can see your pretty little neck and collarbones. Did you ever see such collarbones?” he asked Harold.

Harold nodded vigorously and put his hands on Ava's shoulders. “Why do you think I picked this dress?”

“I picked the dress,” Ava laughed.

“I seconded the motion.”

Lola sat on a divan in Ava's dressing room and watched the proceedings. “What are you going to do with my hair?” she asked Maurice.

Maurice turned to look at her. “I can't do a thing with that spiky mess except make it even spikier.”

Lola clapped her hands. “Oh, goody.”

When Ava finally got out of Maurice's chair, her makeup was perfectly applied to her alabaster complexion and her hair was divine, a smooth chignon at the nape of her neck, perfect for photographs from any angle. Even Ava couldn't stop looking at herself. “Wow. You outdid yourself, Maurice.”

Maurice collapsed dramatically into an overstuffed love seat. “My job is done!”

“Hey, you haven't done me yet!” Lola said.

“Oh, you'll only take a minute.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You're lucky I'm doing anything at all, so zip it.”

Harold had his head cocked to the side. “I think we need one more thing. He picked up a thin velvet headband and placed it behind Ava's ears. It was the perfect finishing touch.

Once they helped Ava into the magnificent dress, the last accessories were her shoes, a pair of silk-organza platform sandals with Swarovski diamante details. Ava put them on and went to the full-length oval mirror in the corner of her dressing room. She stood there for a good minute, taking it all in.

Her three good friends were delighted for her.

“You look like a china doll,” Maurice sighed.

“You look like a princess,” Harold chimed in.

“Forget princess. She's a hot tamale!” Lola shouted.

They were laughing when Mercedes knocked softly on the door. She had a long rectangular box in her hands. “This came for you,” she said to Ava.

Ava flicked her wrist. “You can put them with the other flowers, if you don't mind, Mercedes.” She had been inundated that day with flowers from friends and admirers alike.

Mercedes hesitated. “I thought you might want to see these.”

Ava took the box from Mercedes' hands and placed it on her dressing table. She slid the small card out of its envelope and read the message. “We wish we could be with you. We'll all be together at Aunt Vi's tonight, cheering you on. Good luck. We love you. Xoxo.”

The box was filled with white daisies, her favourite flower. She could so easily picture the fields and meadows back home.

Ava immediately grabbed the back of her makeup chair and sat down heavily. Tears welled up and she couldn't stop them from rolling down her cheeks.

“My god, are you all right? Don't cry, honey. You'll ruin your makeup.” Maurice held a tissue to the corner of her eye.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'll be all right.”

“Who are the flowers from?” Harold asked.

“My family.”

They knew that talking about Ava's family was forbidden. Maurice knew more than the other two, but being the loyal friend he was, he never talked about it with anyone, including Harold.

“I'm sure they're very proud of you,” Lola ventured.

Ava nodded and continued to dab at her eyes. “They're going to be at Aunt Vi's tonight. I wish I was there too.” She got up and turned away from them. “I'm always alone.”

Her friends looked at each other and collectively felt a faint dread, knowing the excitement of this big day was overshadowed by something none of them could understand.

“Excuse me a moment.” Ava walked out of the room.

Maurice took the opportunity to give Lola a quick hairdo that was true glam rock, straight out of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She loved it.

Once she got into her white fitted gown there was nothing else to do, so they went downstairs where they were joined by Camilla and Trent, who planned on traveling with Ava and Lola in the stretch limousine. They opened a bottle of Moet's and sipped from crystal champagne glasses while they waited.

Ava eventually came downstairs, subdued but smiling. They poured her a glass of champagne and toasted her success. She thanked them just as Mercedes poked her head in to tell them the car had arrived.

Assuring Ava they'd be fine, that they'd invited sixty of their closest friends over to their place for a fabulous Oscar night party, Maurice and Harold waved them off. Ava promised she'd call them as soon as she was able.

Traffic was awful. They waited in an endless line-up of limousines converging at the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue in front of the Kodak Theatre. As the minutes passed, excitement was replaced with anxiety. Lola grabbed Ava's hand and tried to reassure her that it would be a walk in the park, but when the door was finally opened and Ava was ushered out in the limelight, it was as if everything intensified. A kaleidoscope of images swam before her eyes but she was all alone. Lola, Camilla, and Trent had to follow a few steps behind her, out of the way of the cameras. Ava looked around several times to make sure her friends were still nearby.

The screaming fans sitting in the bleachers along the red carpet started calling her name and flashbulbs popped crazily as she slowly made her way through the throng. Whenever Camilla touched her lightly on the back, she knew she had to stop for photos. Immediately, she'd turn sideways with her right foot forward slightly and give a peek-a-boo look over her shoulder.

Then it was on to the riser for the television show Movies Now! She climbed the stairs and was momentarily stunned to see Scott Fredericks standing there, with his wife on his arm. Ava and Scott hadn't laid eyes on each other since that day in her trailer. She wanted to turn around and run but the hostess Jan Munroe grabbed her arm and with her dazzling smile drew Ava close to Scott before turning to the camera. “Look who we have here tonight: Scott Fredericks and Ava Harris. Both nominated for an Academy Award for different movies, but isn't your new film together slated for release this summer?”

“That's right, Jan,” Scott said. “It's great to see you again, Ava.” He reached over and gave Ava a kiss on the cheek. She smiled at him.

“Ava, did you enjoy working with Scott?” Jan asked.

“Very much. He's a great actor.”

“Now before I let you go, Ava, who are you wearing?”

Ava rhymed off the dress designer, the shoemaker, and the jeweler, which she considered an accomplishment considering she could barely remember her own name. Jan Munroe asked the same question of Scott and then sent them on their way with a “Good luck to you both.”

As they turned to go back down the stairs, Scott paused and whispered, “Hope you lose.”

Ava ignored him.

Then on with the continuous smiling and chatting into microphones as she made her way to the grand spiral staircase that connected the four lobby levels. Trent and Camilla said goodbye there and went off to their balcony seats while Ava and Lola continued on. The theatre, which seated over three thousand, had three balcony levels and twenty-four theatre boxes set off by a highlighted “tiara,” a striking oval coated in silver leaf and intertwined with smaller ovals high above their heads within the vaulted ceiling.

It was overwhelming and Ava wanted to take it all in, but there were so many people trying to maneuver down the aisle that she didn't dare stop. Eventually they made it to their seats. She was two rows back from the stage, right on the aisle, along with most of the nominees; for those who won, the walk to the microphone would be as smooth as could be.

Lola counted down how many awards were to be presented before they got to her category. “Only seven before you.”

“Stop talking. You're making me nervous.” Ava reached into her jeweled clutch and pulled out a hankie. She dabbed at her upper lip. “It's warm in here.”

Lola leaned over and whispered, “This place is crawling with Hollywood royalty. These people are so hot it's a wonder this entire building doesn't spontaneously combust.”

Ava nudged her with her elbow. “Don't make me laugh.”

“Sorry.”

Ava smiled at some of the biggest names in Hollywood taking their seats in front of her. Most of them didn't acknowledge her, too preoccupied with their own big night, but a few gave her a brief nod or a quick smile. She refused to look at Scott, who as luck would have it was seated in the same row across the aisle. Her first award of the evening turned out to be the look on Scott Fredericks' face when he lost the Oscar to a relative newcomer.

Ava held Lola's hand and tried to look relaxed if she noticed a camera trained her way, but inside she was shaking. She honestly didn't know if she wanted to win. The thought of climbing those steps up to the stage was daunting. She'd rather stay in her seat and clap for someone else.

In the end, when it was announced that the Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role was Ava Harris, she didn't hear the words. It was Lola's reaction that clued her in. She grabbed Ava around the neck and gave her a kiss. “You did it! You did it!”

Everything was in slow motion after that. She heard a roaring in her ears. She saw that people were clapping and expecting her to do something, so she slowly rose from her chair and walked towards the actor who was waiting with an Oscar statuette in his hands. She couldn't for the life of her remember his name. But at the last minute she did recall Harold's instructions to pick up her skirt before she climbed the stairs. Luckily she made it to the top without incident and crossed the stage towards her presenter, who kissed her on both cheeks and whispered, “Congratulations” before he handed her the Oscar.

It was heavy. It was too heavy. She looked out towards the sea of people, unable to remember a thing she was supposed to say. At the Nominees Luncheon held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, the ceremony's producer told them they had an obligation to make their moment memorable. If they pulled out a list, they were done.

Ava had no list. She practiced some kind of speech in the bathroom mirror a few times, but never thought she'd have the chance to say it. All that ran through her mind was that millions of people around the world were watching her at this very moment.

Her family among them.

BOOK: Ava Comes Home
7.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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