Tuesday night, after visiting with Kat, I had what Mama liked to call a “come to Jesus meeting.” No one else attended—just Jesus and me. I’d been through a few of these before—mostly in my teens—so I knew the drill. He laid a few things bare, and I responded with lots of tears and a bit of fussing and fuming. The end result? I would take it easy. Kick back. Be more relaxed. Let him play the role of director in my life . . . willingly.

Would it happen overnight? No. Would I make a deliberate effort to let go of my anxiety and trust him to handle the things I could not? Well, I’d give it my best shot. And if I failed, I would pick myself up, dust myself off, and try again. What I would not do was stress. Not as a first choice, anyway. In thirty years of living, I’d already stressed enough for ten or twelve people.

That night I slept like a baby. Somewhere in the middle of my dreams I must’ve come to the startling conclusion that I couldn’t fix the issue with the tabloids, because I woke up completely at peace about it all. We would leave the recorded episode exactly as it was. Little Ricky would be Little Ricky. So what if the viewers knew his name? Maybe they would feel that we cared enough about them to entrust them with the news. And I would make my apologies to Benita, doing my best to unravel any existing issues between us. She was, after all, my baby sister.

Whew! Letting go of things actually felt good. Who knew?

Since I’d gone to bed at a decent hour, my body didn’t feel the usual early-morning tenseness. I rolled over in bed, then sat up and reached for my Bible, determined not to let the moment get away from me. No rushing here and there to get ready. That could wait a few minutes. I had some business to take care of first.

Not that it felt like business. No, as I lingered in God’s presence, I actually felt—possibly for the first time—that meeting with him wasn’t something to check off of my to-do list. Turned out it was a privilege. A blessing. I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I continued my conversation with him as I showered and fixed my hair. Just for kicks, I decided to wear my hair loose around my face, not overcombed, but soft and a little messy. I’d never done the messy look before, but maybe it was about time.

When it came time to dress, I picked out a soft pink blouse with ruffles, which I wore over a pair of relaxed jeans. My heels were a perfect complement to the belt. And just for fun, I wore dangly earrings. That would throw people off, no doubt. I’d never worn anything other than my usual diamond studs before.

When it came time to leave for work, I found myself looking forward to the day ahead. In spite of any troubles yesterday, today would be a great day. No matter what happened, I would maintain the right attitude. Once again my professor’s words ran through my mind: They’re following your lead. You set the stage for the attitude on the set. The director directs not just the filmed action but all the action.

Today we would experience the best possible in-studio experience. I would lead the way.

I pulled onto the 405 and pressed the button on the steering wheel to call Mama. She answered on the second ring. “Tia, is everything okay?”

“Of course.”

“Oh.” I could hear her breathe a sigh of relief, then mutter “God be praised” in Spanish. “You’re calling me on your way to work.”

“I always talk to you on my way to work.”

“Well, yes, but I always call you. At 7:45 a.m. You called me at 7:39 a.m. So I had to think maybe something terrible had happened. Nothing terrible happened, did it, Tia-mia? Oh, don’t tell me. I’m already upset enough about this nonsense with your sister.”

“Ah, she told you. Well, don’t worry about that, Mama. I plan to apologize to her.”

“I’m not saying you have to be the one to apologize, Tia. I don’t know what to think. I just hate to see my girls not getting along. It’s so hard when there’s a strain in a relationship. We’ve seen so much of it in this family. I just want everyone to love one another.”

“I do love her, Mama, and I’m going to do what I can to make things better.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Tia. Honestly, I just don’t know what to do with that girl sometimes.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, there’s always so much drama where she’s concerned. Where all of your siblings are concerned, really.”

Interesting.

Mama opened up and talked about her concerns—about Benita, Carlos’s drinking, and even Gabe’s struggle with ADHD. Who knew? She actually did see her children’s flaws.

I pulled into the drive-through at Starbucks, ended the call with my mother, and ordered a Grande Earl Grey tea, heavy on the cream, with two Splendas. Of course, it was too hot to drink. By the time I arrived at the studio, I’d hoped it would be cool enough to sip. No such luck. Oh well. Just one more thing not to get upset about.

When I got out of my car, I realized I’d parked next to Jason. He took one look at me in my pink ruffled blouse, and I thought the boy’s eyes would pop right out of his head.

“Wow.” A delicious smile lit his face. “You look . . .” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Amazing.”

“Thank you.” I felt the edges of my lips curl up in a smile. A girl could get used to being greeted like this in the morning.

I closed the door to my car, and the doors automatically locked. Slipping my Prada handbag over my shoulder, I walked alongside Jason. He dove into a story about a movie he’d seen the night before, and before long he had me smiling. Oh, how I loved this kind of attention. If I had my way, we would skip ahead a few pages in the script and get to the part where he told me I was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

“Tia?”

“Hmm?” I looked at him, realizing I’d gotten lost in my thoughts.

“You still with me?”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Oh, yes, I . . .” Quick, Tia. Think on your feet. “You know, I hate to cut this short, but I need to find my sister. I really need to talk to her.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

I practically took off running toward the soundstage. Once inside, I hid my purse in my office, then went off in search of Benita. I found her in the hair and makeup room, taking inventory of her products.

I took a couple of steps in her direction, and she put her hands up. “What did I do this time?”

“Nothing.” I sighed and sat in her chair. Turning to face the mirror, I stared at both of our reflections. Strange how much we looked alike today. She happened to be wearing pink too. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Little creases appeared between her brows. “Oh?”

“Beni, I came to apologize. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll admit, the thing with Julio totally threw me—hurt my feelings a little—but not for the reasons you think. He wasn’t my type.”

“Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Mama totally botched that up.”

Okay, I don’t know if you’re insulting me or just stating a fact, so I’ll just smile and keep talking.

“Anyway, to suspect you of sabotaging the show was just plain stupid.” I gave her a sheepish look. “Will you forgive me?”

She waited awhile before answering. “Just so you know, the thing with Julio was not really my fault. He’s a handsome guy. Very handsome.”

“Agreed.”

She sighed. “I think maybe I was blinded by the heavenly glow surrounding his face. It drew me in like a magnet. I don’t know any way to explain it other than that. He cast a spell on me with his looks, and I’m hooked. Just reel me in and fry me up in a pan. I can’t help myself when I’m in the room with a gorgeous guy.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d been swayed by a handsome face, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to put both of these things behind us. Can we do that?” I turned away from the mirror and looked into her eyes.

Again, she didn’t answer right away. When she finally spoke, her words surprised me. “I love my job here, Tia. This is the best job I’ve ever had, and not just because I get to put makeup on people like Brock Benson.” Her eyes misted over. “I . . . I’m learning a lot. About the industry. About how sitcoms are made. About what the writers go through.” She shrugged. “Even what you do for a living. I never got it before, but I do now.”

“I’m glad.” I rose and gave her a warm hug.

“Everyone here respects you, Tia,” she whispered. “I’ve never known what that felt like . . . to be respected.”

Whoa. Her words caught me totally off guard.

“When you speak, everyone listens,” she said. “And you’re loaded with great ideas to make the show even better than it already is.” She paused. “Makes me want to be the best I can be too.”

I hardly knew what to say. After stumbling through a couple of responses, I finally gave up and threw my arms around her neck, giving her the tightest squeeze I could. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That means a lot, coming from someone in the family.”

When I released my hold, she took a close look at my blouse and hair. “You look great, Tia. Where did the blouse come from?”

“I bought it ages ago on a whim.”

“Then you need to buy more things on a whim. This color is great on you. And these ruffles . . . ” She reached to touch the sleeve of the blouse. “I just can’t get over the fact that you’re wearing ruffles.”

“Well, I was in a ruffly sort of mood today.”

“Interesting.” She grinned, then turned me around so that we both faced the mirror again. “Look how pretty you are.”

I stared at my reflection, more amazed at the relaxed expression on my face than anything else. Being a changed woman—giving up stress—had actually softened my appearance. Who knew?

I ran into my first opportunity to prove that I was a changed woman just moments later when Rex appeared in the doorway, concern etched into his brow. “Houston, we have a problem.”

“What’s that?” I rose and met him at the door. He gestured for me to join him in the hallway, so I headed that direction.

“Remember I told you that Lesleigh had the stomach flu?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

Rex sighed. “It wasn’t the flu. It was her appendix. She’s just been admitted to the hospital, and doctors are prepping her for surgery as we speak.”

“Are you kidding me? Tell me you’re kidding.”

Deep breath, Tia. This is one of those moments you rehearsed for, remember?

“Not kidding.” Rex took a few steps toward the sound-stage. “She’s out, and we’re looking for an actress to take her place. Pronto.”

I began to pace the room. As the show’s director, I should’ve had a backup plan. I stopped pacing and shrugged. “We’ll have to talk to Athena and Stephen and see if they can rewrite that scene, I guess.”

“I thought of that. It’s just a lot to ask of them, and they’re already working on next week’s script. Not to mention that was a really funny scene. It affects everything else in the episode.”

“You’re right.” I crossed the room and took a seat in my director’s chair. I could usually think more clearly here.

Off in the distance, Erin played with the kids, her laughter ringing out. Looked like our answer was already here, right in front of us.

“Follow me, Rex. I have an idea.” I rose and walked across the studio, calling out Erin’s name.

Erin turned, all smiles, as usual. “What’s up, Ms. T?”

“Erin, let me ask you a question. You’re in film school, right?”

“Sure am.” She squared her shoulders and smiled. “Gonna be like you when I grow up.”

“Would you, just this once, consider being like Kat when you grow up?”

Her jaw dropped. “You want me to have a baby?”

“No, silly. I’m asking you to be an actress. Have you had any acting experience? Besides filling in for Lesleigh, I mean.”

“Oh, sure.” She waved a hand. “I did some school plays, and even played Guinevere last fall at a community theater. Just did it to give myself exposure and get to know others in the acting community. You never know when it might come in handy.”

“Like now.”

“Huh?” Her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

I decided to speak to her, director to director. “Erin, did you ever see the movie 42nd Street with Ruby Keeler?”

“Did I?” She laughed. “We studied that movie in film school. It’s a classic. Loaded with great lines. And that Busby Berkley choreography was out of this world. He was ahead of his time.”

“Remember how the star of the show broke her ankle and couldn’t go on, so Ruby Keeler’s character had to take her place at the last minute?”

“Of course. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Exactly. Sometimes life gives us those.”

To my right, Rex grinned.

“Tia, what are you saying?” Confusion registered in Erin’s eyes.

I released a breath, then spit out the whole explanation: “Lesleigh Conroy’s appendix is about to burst, so she’s going into surgery and won’t be here today, and we need you to take her place. Not just today for the final run-through, but for the filming tomorrow too. We’re going to turn the little chorus girl into a star.”

Erin turned white as a sheet. “I . . . I think I need to sit down.” She did. Finally, she looked up at me, bug-eyed. “There’s no one else?”

“Nope. It’s just you, kid. So, what do you say? Can we go over the lines one more time so I can give you some direction?”

“I—I guess so.”

I passed a script to her, instructing her to turn to page seven. She glanced down at the script and started to read.

Turned out I didn’t have to give any direction at all. Erin had every nuance right, even the facial expressions. And best of all, she’d somehow already memorized the lines. After the first couple, she barely looked at the script.

“Good gravy.” Rex paused and shook his head. “This is something else. I don’t believe it. Haven’t seen anything like this since ’57 when Elvis and I auditioned for the same part in Jailhouse Rock.” A sheepish look came over his face. “He got the part, obviously. Not me.”

Erin chuckled. “The world will never know what it missed, Rex.”

“Oh, I remember Elvis,” Lenora said, joining us. “I did a movie with him once.” She went off on a tangent about what it was like to work with the King, but I turned my attention to Erin.

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“Ugh.” Erin’s nose wrinkled. “I know I’m pretty rough.”

“Rough?” I laughed, suddenly feeling very carefree. “Oh, Erin.”

A flush ran up her neck and into her cheeks. Time to put her out of her misery.

“Erin, you’ve always stayed behind the camera.”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “I love it there. Anything to be in the studio.”

“I know, but the camera is going to love you. And your acting skills are pretty amazing. You’re a natural.”

“I am?” She looked stunned at this proclamation.

I put my hand on her arm. “Don’t you sense it when you’re acting? Every now and again I see a rare gem like you—someone who’s gifted in such a natural and obvious way—but most of those people have trained for years. With you, it’s just an unpretentious, God-given gift. No other way to describe it.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed pink again. “I’ll admit, acting is a lot of fun, but I’m not really into the glitz and glam side of Hollywood. I’m the one who wants to make sure the camera angles are right and the cast is prepared to do the best job possible.” She shrugged. “I’m not trying to say I want your job, Tia, but one day I want to have a job like yours. It’s something great to aspire to.”

“I think that’s awesome, and I hope you get whatever your heart desires. But in the meantime, thank you for doing this. It means the world to me.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” She smiled. “I’m sure it will be fun too. It’s all fun.”

“Yes, it is.” When you have a great attitude like that. “Now get yourself over to hair and makeup and make sure they age you a little. You’ve got to look like you’re thirty, not twenty-two.”

“I remember when I was twenty-two,” Lenora said. “Seems like just yesterday.”

Erin still looked half stunned, half thrilled. “This is really happening,” she whispered.

“Carpe diem.” I squeezed her hand. “Seize the day, Erin.”

“Oh, I know that one,” Lenora said with a wave of her hand. “Robin Williams. Dead Poets Society.”

“1990,” Rex threw in.

“No, I think it was ’89,” Erin said. “But I don’t suppose it matters.”

“I’ve always thought Robin Williams was such a funny man.” Lenora giggled. “I met him once when I did a guest appearance on Mork and Mindy.”

I turned back to Erin with a smile. “I know I’ve put you on the spot, but let me remind you that you’ll be playing the part of Brock Benson’s love interest. And there’s a kiss involved.”

She tried to respond but could only manage a stammer.

“Exactly. Now get in there and let them figure out the hair and wardrobe thing. And count your lucky stars. Okay?”

“O-okay.” She giggled. “Just wait till I call my mama. She’s gonna flip.”

As I watched her walk away, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my years in film school. I’d taken enough acting classes to learn how to give instruction to my show’s stars. I understood vocal inflection, characterization, tone, pitch, volume control. Only one problem—I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag. No way, no how. Still, it was clear Erin could, and I needed her now more than ever.

“Thank you, Lord. You sent the right person at the right time.”

I turned and ran smack-dab into Jason, who offered me a broad smile. “Well, thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, I . . . well, I . . .”

Nah. What would be the point in explaining, anyway?

He gave me a wink, which caused me to lose focus. If there was one thing I’d learned over the years, it was that an out-of-focus director meant an out-of-focus cast.

Gazing into his beautiful green eyes, I had to conclude there were worse things to befall a director.