The next day, Anya responded quickly to my call for assistance. She arrived at our hotel laden with fresh blooms and a basket of peaches. She stirred her tea as we told of our night’s adventure and patted my hand when Sky repeated a bit of my angry, authoritative prayer. “You are learning, eh? Zee only way we get stronger is by resistance. A warrior’s training is never easy, but Our Father will waste nothing.”
“When did I agree to boot camp?” I shuddered, recalling the night’s desperation and fear.
“When you agreed to love and cherish through good, evil, sickness, health, and every other sacred vow, you took on your husband’s woes and he yours.”
Chloe knocked and entered. “Hate to interrupt, but Draper wants to meet before his flight today. Put it off as long as I could. Meeting at three.”
Sky gave a curt nod and Chloe slipped out. There was a moment of silence.
“Why does zese man’s name steal joy from your eyes?” Anya asked.
“Long story,” Sky answered. “He holds my leash due to past… indiscretions.”
“You no longer have a leash,” Anya stated. “Zat is zee enemy’s lie. But if you believe it,” she shrugged a shoulder and lifted a brow, “you remain his slave.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Sky rubbed a hand over his face. “Financially, professionally, my reputation, even my relationship with Esther—he could ruin so much.”
“Zen we add him to zee list of issues addressed before our Father and we pray for your freedom from fear. Zese things you say he could ruin are gifts from God’s hand. It is not healthy for you or for zese Draper for him to play God.”
Without another word, Anya shut her eyes and prayed. At one point, I felt Sky slump in his seat so I peeked at him. His head was in his hands and he was leaning forward as if a mountain lay on his shoulders. A tear dripped onto my hand that rested on his knee. I tried to attend to Anya’s prayer as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle. As she prayed, she tilted a drop from the bottle and dabbed it on our foreheads. Again, warmth spread through my body. Sky moaned. Anya reached for a trashcan behind her and set it next to Sky. Her prayer was louder, commanding, rebuking and pleading Christ’s authority over us. She was firm but calm, even when Sky grabbed the trashcan and threw up. Sky shivered and I put an arm around him. His body felt hot, feverish.
He wasn’t the only one with random symptoms. My arm started itching and I watched, mesmerized, as red welts bloomed across my pale skin. I fought the fear but felt such helplessness. What were we dealing with here? I was so grateful for Anya’s calm demeanor and soothing voice. “No. None of that,” she stated. “The Lord rebuke you. Go where zee angels take you.”
The welts began to fade. The itching stopped.
On and on Anya prayed, playing hide-and-seek with malevolent spirits, searching every room of our psyches while evil, disobedient children scrambled for new hiding places.
When she finished her prayer—not the “eyes-shut-monotone” kind but rather the “kick-ass-take-names” variety—we looked up, stunned, exhausted but peaceful.
“I was seeing the most beautiful images,” Sky mused. “I was wrapped in my mother’s arms as a young boy. Things began to change; I grew, she faded like mist burned away by the sun. Then Jesus was there, solid and strong, eyes blazing. He was angry. At first I thought it was at me, but no. He was angry at a huge chain hanging around my neck. God, it was so heavy. It was pulling me into the ground. But when Jesus grabbed the chain around my neck, it began to glow white-hot where He held it until it melted right through. The rest of the chains broke open and fell off. I felt so light and free, like I could fly.” He turned to me with a dazzling smile. “I still feel that way.”
I grinned back, reveling in the moment. No doubt at all, this was God. There was such power in His deep eradication of our fears and hang-ups. The sense of fulfillment and joy was far beyond mere happiness. To compare the two was like comparing the fresh, tumbling water of the French Alps to a cesspool.
But Anya was not finished. She addressed Sky. “You have much grief and rejection zat have been an open door to desire fame. It has been your driving force. But you understand now how empty fame truly is. Your Heavenly Father desires to continue your healing so zere are no more leashes for evil to control your emotions like,” Anya snapped her fingers, searching for the right word, “Pinocchio and his strings.”
“I give you both a hard task because I sense Our Father wants to use you to help set many free. Your enemy will oppose zese in every way because he hates to lose a useful tool. Do not be surprised by circumstances and attack. Learn zee power of worship. Speak scripture aloud. Pray in zee heavenly language. In zese way, you will defeat zee enemy’s plans. As you trust and worship and learn to love your Heavenly Father with every fiber of your being, you will naturally be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Remember, it is not your strength but His strength within you zat wins zee battle.”
Sky said that, during Anya’s prayer, he had heard God speak to him, a quiet, confident whisper in his heart. “He said, ‘Trust me. Even the wounds, when given to Me, can be used to bring healing to others.’ Then I felt immersed in liquid grace, like a long, warm soak in pure love. God told me, just like bathing the body, I need to soak in His love every day. He said, ‘Come to me when wounded, when confident, when confused or pressured. When you feel as if you will break, I will comfort and strengthen you.’
“He knows me,” Sky said with a bemused expression. “God knows all about me, yet He loves me! I feel like I was buried alive and didn’t even know it until pulled out of the dirt.” As Sky began to laugh it was infectious. We both laughed until tears streamed down our cheeks.
Anya watched us with a delighted smile, “Zese is exactly what scripture says. We are crucified and zen raised with Christ. It is no longer we who live but He lives within us.” She instructed us to read Romans 6 aloud together every day, substituting our names for the pronouns. “But do not be surprised if your dreams are troubled. Think of it as seeing your unwelcome houseguests pushed out zee front door as you sleep. As you renew your mind and commit more and more to God’s presence within, zey will leave. But let this process work completely. If you stop moving forward in Christ, your enemy waits to try to reclaim his old home. Ze foolish things you choose to see and hear, zee choices you make to serve ego, zese are a doorway for evil. Keep ALL submitted to Christ.”
What a glorious moment. The past was forgotten and the future didn’t matter because God was with us now.
~~
We tried to hold onto joy later when Draper breezed in spouting orders about itinerary, and how to deal with rabid anti-Sky sentiment in the Press. “I want you on the most popular talk shows. Now! We’re flying you to New York tonight.”
“But what about the interviews here?” Chloe interrupted, pencil poised above her notebook.”
“We have one in… ” Draper checked his watch, “exactly one hour. Cancel the rest. That will leave time to get to the airport. One daytime and one evening interview in New York tomorrow.”
“That’s a pretty punishing schedule,” I commented. Draper waved a hand toward me as if swatting a mosquito.
Sky ran a weary hand over his eyes. “What about Esther? Is she coming with me?”
“Doesn’t matter. Key is to put your charming self in front of your fans, apologize your ass off and… ”
“Yes, it matters. I would like my wife with me. We need to face this together.”
“Hmmm. Might work. Forgiving spouse angle.” Now that I was a pawn on his chessboard, Draper acknowledged me for the first time since he had arrived.
“Now get him ready,” Draper barked at Chloe. He paused and peered at Sky. “On second thought, don’t change a thing. He looks tired, crumpled. Might work on their sympathies.” Draper reached for the door. “Just trying to save your career, old man.”
When the door clicked closed, Sky turned on his heel and headed toward the bathroom muttering, “Damned if I’ll be ‘crumpled’.”
~~
The next few days were brutal as Sky faced one harassing interview after another. To his credit, he never lost his cool and accepted audience jeers with class. Public opinion began to turn. A couple articles lauded Sky for facing his troubles and not running away. They even mentioned how he maintained class when presented with embarrassing questions. “We can all learn a lesson here,” one critic noted. “The public will forgive just about anything when the accused apologizes. But isn’t it about time to give the guy a break. Isn’t a dozen times enough? And where are the official charges? If some bimbo comes onto me and doesn’t tell me she’s jail bait, is that my fault or hers?”
I was just beginning to believe we would survive the marathon when I caught sight of her in the morning paper. The photo showed a young woman, about my age, with willowy body, large, soulful eyes and shoulder-length dark blonde hair. The caption read, “Jessica Lavinne, 23, was 17 when she met Sky in Las Vegas.”
Then it was her turn. She was on the radio, in newspaper articles, and in news interviews. The same two or three quotes ended up in headlines everywhere. “I was seventeen. I adored Sky. Who didn’t?”
Again public opinion shifted. “Who does Sky think he is? Taking advantage of impressionable young women is not cool, celebrity or no.” Conservative groups got in on the action, labeling Sky as one more example of the evils of the music industry.
Bottom line, of course, was the bottom line. As long as the story sold papers, it was milked from every possible angle.
I was packing for a trip back to the Isle of Skye and a much-needed respite when Chloe arrived one morning. She was hesitant, a trait our confident Chloe rarely exhibited. I was first to deliver a morning greeting. Another rarity where Chloe was concerned.
She bit her lip. She opened and shut her mouth. “Um…”
I froze over my half-filled suitcase. “Spill it.”
“She wants to meet with you.”
“Who?”
“Her.”
“Jessica?”
Nod.
“You’re kidding. Where? When? Why?”
“All questions only she can answer. And she’s made it clear she wants only to deal with you, directly with you, to even set up details; very secret, no one else comes along, no media, etc.”
I sat, stunned, on the bed. “Think I can trust her?”
“Hope so.” Chloe sat on the bed beside me. “She made contact through a lawyer. Well, he gave me her number anyway. He said, ‘That’s the last of my involvement in this matter, per my client’s instructions.’ He didn’t sound real happy about that.”
“I like her already if she has the moxie to make a lawyer back off. Also, it tells me she’s not trying to bring charges or we would have gotten papers, not a call.”
“I still don’t like it.” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “With no witnesses, she could make up anything she wants.”
“She’s had that chance. Nothing she’s said in the media sounds like she wants attention. More like she’s trying to diffuse the story but they won’t let her.”
Chloe still wasn’t convinced but she left the number.
~~
Central Park: noon on a sunny April day. There was a particular tree. She would have a red bandanna on her head and a dog on a leash. An attack dog? I hoped not.
At first I thought I had spotted the wrong woman since the hair was black, sleek and long, but she raised a hand. Of course she would disguise herself. I had too, utilizing Chloe’s turban talent and wide, dark glasses.
We exchanged wary pleasantries as we glanced around, no doubt wondering if the other had obeyed the term of no companions. It was actually impossible to tell since Central Park teemed with joggers, picnickers and couples strolling hand-in-hand.
She wasted no time. “First, I want you to know I did not go to the press with my story. They came to me and I don’t know who told them.”
“Okay.” I reached for her dog, some kind of Beagle-Shepherd mix. His tail thumped and he licked my hand. “What’s his name?”
She paused. “Bailey.”
“What do you do for a living, Jessica?”
She gulped. “I didn’t come here to talk about me.”
“Look, I’m not the press and I’m not a lawyer. We’ve both been under a lot of pressure and I was just making small talk.”
The tense shoulders relaxed just a bit. “I dance with a small ballet company and I’m a parts model.”
“A parts model?”
“Legs, hands, hair, lips, not a full-body model. Dancing doesn’t pay the bills and a parts model escapes lots of the hassles.”
“I see.” Small talk over. “So what’s second?”
“Oh.” She took a deep breath. “I guess I want to apologize. From what I’ve seen of you and Sky, you both seem happy and I hated to think my story was making things difficult for you.”
“I wish I could say your story was the only stress. Far from it.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I was so sorry to hear when you lost your baby.”
The truth was in her pain-filled gaze. “You know what that feels like, don’t you?”
Fear washed over Jessica, chasing color from her cheeks. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s empathy not sympathy I’m feeling here. Only those who have been through it really understand.”
She started talking, one hand on Bailey, the other plucking at grass. “I was so young. Devastated by Vegas. I went back home and started working on my GED and teaching at a dance studio. I started dating a guy. Guess I was a sap. He pressured me into sex but I didn’t think much of myself and he made me feel beautiful… until things went very wrong. He started controlling everyone and everything in my life. It made me feel kind of safe for a while, then I just felt trapped. When I turned up pregnant he freaked out and accused me of trying to force him to marry me and called me all kinds of names. His family was rich, and very influential, since his dad is in politics. There was a ton of pressure so… I got an abortion.
“Good news is it made me see the whole relationship was about him and his needs, not me. Afterwards, I moved here to study dance and go to a local college. But I’ll never forget how empty I felt after they took the baby. I have nightmares and take pills in order to sleep.” She hesitated, stroking Bailey’s sleek side. My baby would be almost four now.”
I reached out and grasped the slender hand that stroked Bailey’s fur.
Jessica looked up with a surge of conviction in her eyes. “I also want you to know your husband was a gentleman to me that night in Vegas.”
“Sounds to me like you both passed out so who’s to know?”
“One of the other girls told me what happened later. But before I got sick from something in my drink, Sky was sweet and even encouraged me to leave Vegas and pursue Ballet for real. We ducked into the bedroom when the party got out of hand and I threw up. Last thing I remember, he put a blanket over me on the bed and he leaned back on a chair. I was shocked to wake up in bed with him. So was he. It was horrible.”
Jessica’s hands shook as she stroked Bailey. The dog looked up with understanding eyes and licked her hand.
Jessica continued. “It was bad enough to wake up like… like that. But when I saw the other girls they nudged each other and laughed. One, Margo, was the worst. ‘Have a good time, Hon?’” Jessica rolled her eyes, “I found out later the set up was her idea.”
“Did you ever consider pressing charges?” I asked.
“Really? To a cop it would have been one prostitute’s word against another.”
“I see what you mean. Sorry.”
“One good thing came of it. With the money I got that night, I bought a bus ticket home. I never, ever, want to see Vegas again.”
“How did you even end up at that party in the first place if some of the others were prostitutes?”
“A guy came backstage after our show. Ya know, crazy costumes, big headdresses, the typical Vegas stuff. He asked several of us to come to a party and assured us it was an appearance, not prostitution. One of the girls whispered that the party was for Sky. That and the money the guy offered clinched it. I was desperate. No car, sharing an apartment with five other girls, behind on rent.”
“You were only seventeen. What about your parents?”
Jessica shook her head. “That’s what I was running from. Mom had remarried and my stepdad was… a problem.
“Your real dad? Any other family?”
“Dad died when I was young. I have a half-brother, but he’s older than me and living on the other side of the world. So I took a bus to Vegas and lied about my age to get a dancing job. That’s about it.”
“But then you went back home.”
“By that time my stepdad was living with another woman. Mom was a mess so I cared for her some.”
“That’s good.”
“Until she didn’t need me anymore. When she remarried I moved here.”
“Jessica,” I chose my words carefully, “why did you ask to meet with me? If you really want to help Sky, just tell the truth to the media.”
Her eyes widened and darted around us as if expecting an ambush. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Look, I just needed you to know.” She ducked her head so the long hair of the wig obscured her face. “I’ve stayed too long.”
Jessica moved to get up but I put a hand on her arm. “Are you in trouble? What are you afraid of?”
A grimace squelched the ghost of a smile as Jessica’s eyes brimmed with tears. “You are very kind but… I can’t.” With that, she hopped up, took a firm grip on Bailey’s leash, and jogged away.