Karen Kingsbury - Fifteen Minutes

“You’re cold.” He drew back and looked at her. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not really. I wanted to be out here.” She forced a smile. “I’m excited for you, Zack.”

“Know what I want?”

“What?”

He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I want to jump on your horse with you and ride together till the sun comes up. Just forget the whole singing thing.”

“Hmmm.” She gazed off toward the horizon, already growing lighter. “Sounds beautiful.” She met his eyes again. “Why haven’t we ever done that?”

“We will.” He smoothed a piece of her hair blowing in the breeze. “Next week when I get back.”

Crickets played softly somewhere in the distance. She narrowed her eyes, seeing to the deepest part of him. “You really don’t believe it, do you?”

“Believe what?” His words came slowly, a whisper wrapped in the newness of the morning.

“That you’ll make it.” She refused her gathering tears. “That you’ll win.”

“It’s not humility. I’m realistic.” His grin came easily. “Guys who can sing are a dime a dozen.” He kissed her and their faces remained close. “Now, guys who sing to horses, maybe not.”

She was enjoying the moment more than she’d expected. “You know what I think?”

“What?” He swayed with her, the rest of the world forgotten.

“I think your days of singing to horses are numbered.”

“Speaking of which.” He walked back to his car and returned with his guitar. “I owe you a song.”

She felt tears in her eyes, but her smile remained. He pulled his guitar from the case and perched himself on the porch railing.

She had to admit to the possibility that she was hearing it for the first and last time. If things changed . . . if Zack never came back.

She focused on the words and the way Zack looked straight at her as he sang. The song was beautiful, every line a message from his heart to hers. She would never love anyone the way she loved Zack Dylan. By the time he reached the last chorus she had tears on her cheeks.

Of all I see through her blue eyes

What gives me my direction

Is always seeing my reflection

There in her blue eyes

He smiled at her, his own eyes shining with the good-bye ahead. The song played out, the words moving easily from his soul to hers.

I always want to see me there

Under a Kentucky sky

There in her blue eyes.

Lost in her blue eyes.

When it ended they didn’t move or speak. Finally he slipped the guitar back in its case and took it to his car. When he returned, his eyes locked on hers.

“After this you’ll have your answers.” She reminded herself to smile. “Maybe we both will.”

He took half a step back. “Both?” He searched her eyes. “What are your questions?”

“Come on, Zack.” She willed him to understand. “If God gives you answers, He’ll give them to me, too.”

“Like . . . ?”

“Not about you.” This was a slippery slope. She chose her words with great care. “About the future . . . London. That sort of thing.”

“I thought we were finished with London.” He took her hands in his, clearly troubled. “Please, Reese. I want to marry you. Don’t decide anything until I get back.” Fear flickered in his expression. “Okay?”

She searched his eyes. He didn’t understand. Once he was on the show he’d be busy. Too busy to come back to Danville until the ride ended. Whenever that might be. Of course she had questions. About London . . . about the two of them. About all of it. Again, she didn’t want to send him off worried or troubled. They’d have their answers soon enough.

She closed the distance between them, letting his body warm hers again. “Go audition. You have to. You’re the best.” She memorized the feel of his arms around her. “Go find your answers, Zack. Do it for your family and for God.”

Her words seemed to ease his anxieties. She felt him relax against her. “Remember what I told you?”

“It’s going to be okay.” She felt the compassion in her eyes.

“Exactly.” He released her hands and brought his lips to hers. And for the sweetest seconds they forgot everything except what it felt like to be together, to be in love. The kiss led to another, and the desperation built.

Finally he pulled himself away. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

She pressed her head to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Make me a deal?”

“The pre-dawn horseback ride?”

She giggled despite her sadness. “That, too.”

“Mmm, baby, I mean it. That’ll be us the first morning I’m back.”

She smiled, and hope waved a flag in her heart. If only she could hold on to that picture. “I like that.”

He chuckled. “What was your deal?”

She felt her eyes grow watery. When she was sure she wouldn’t cry, she looked up at him. “Prove them wrong, okay? Please . . .”

“Who?” He held her face in his hands and searched her heart, her soul.

“The world says fame changes everyone.” She found her smile. “Prove them wrong.”

Strength gathered in his eyes. “I will.” He kissed her again. “If I get that far, I absolutely will.”

She nodded and felt her heart fall in line. “I believe you.” No matter what lay ahead nothing could change Zack Dylan.

His lips met hers and the kiss lingered. “See you soon.”

“I love you.” She willed herself to remember the look in his eyes, the kindness and humility that set him apart. “I always will.”

“Whatever tomorrow holds, you’re a part of it. God made us for each other.”

She wanted to believe it. With all her heart she wanted to. She held his gaze, lost in his soul. “Go win it.”

“I’ll call you.”

He kissed her one final time, seeing to the places in her heart that belonged to him alone. He held his hand up in a frozen sort of wave. Then he turned and jogged to his pickup truck. He looked back at her as he drove away, as she stood there, watching until his taillights faded into the distance.

By then the morning sun had splashed light onto the day and Reese felt a peace that hadn’t been there before. Zack would survive the weekend auditions. His voice would catch the attention of the judges and the nation. He would win their hearts with a single song.

The way he had won hers four years ago.

He really could win it all, but even then she knew Zack. He wouldn’t change. Nothing could sway the feelings he had for God, who had given him the gift of song. He would make this competition about glorifying the Lord and helping his family.

And then he’d come back for her.

Downtown Atlanta was bedlam.

Cars with license plates representing half the U.S. jammed the streets around the Georgia Dome. Everywhere Zack looked, streams of people headed for the stadium. There were groups of teens and whole families with handmade signs and scattered through the mix, too many bearded, bespectacled hipsters to count. There was the occasional soccer or basketball team come to support one of its own. And of course the random person dressed in a chicken or cow costume. Three guys had their shirts off and the words “Anything for Fifteen Minutes” painted on their chests. Some had guitars slung over their backs; most carried duffel bags and overfilled backpacks.

The electricity in the summer air was palpable. According to the news, Fifteen Minutes producers had seen nearly forty thousand singers at the earlier auditions. This was the last one. The last chance for season ten. They were expecting a far bigger turnout than in any of the previous cities.

Zack tried not to think about it. He needed a parking place. That was all that mattered for now. Cars were gridlocked all around him. Five minutes passed, then ten. No movement. Zack looked in his rearview mirror. How hard would it be to turn around? Find his way to the freeway and never look back?

He meant what he’d told Reese. He probably wouldn’t make it past a few rounds at best—too many people, too much confusion for a single voice to stand out. Everything he’d read told him that at this level the producers scanned the crowds for a certain look, something different—red hair or a unique body type or ethnicity. Getting through the first round was as random as it was difficult.

The mirror still had his attention. Why bother? He could spend the weekend with Reese, write a few songs and work with the horses. Take his girl for that early-morning ride tomorrow. Maybe go to the mall and look at wedding rings. Come Sunday he could sing for half an hour at church and life would be good.

Except for one thing. He wouldn’t have the answers.

A trio of police officers strode into sight and began directing traffic. Another joined them and another. Someone must’ve opened additional lots, and with the help of the officers, the traffic began to inch forward. By the time Zack found parking and pushed into the river of people heading for the stadium, it was nearly nine-thirty. The back of the line was ten blocks out. Ten long blocks.

Zack hadn’t brought a guitar. Most of the people who made it through did so without an instrument. Less to carry. Less to worry about if he wound up sleeping on the sidewalk. His backpack held a camping pillow and blanket, protein bars and a six-pack of water. Cough drops and garlic pills. So he could keep his immune system strong if he had to wait till early tomorrow morning to audition.

In front of him a group of teenage girls bounced and squealed and waved at cars still searching for a parking spot. “I’m gonna win!” one of the girls shouted. She waved her hands and rallied her friends. “Let’s do a cheer.” And like that the girls burst into a chant. “Bang bang, choo choo train, wind us up and we’ll do our thing!”