Aspen's Stunt
Aspen’s Stunt
By
Melissa Grace
Copyright @ 2014 by Melissa Grace
All rights reserved. Thank you for downloading this ebook. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities between these characters and a real person are mere coincidence and completely unintentional.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, unauthorized duplication of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the written permission of the author. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks and a deep appreciation to Vila Design for the incredible cover artwork.
To Wikipedia for providing some helpful information (no matter how “accurate”), that helped me develop certain parts of this story. This is fiction after all.
A big and warm heartfelt thanks to my dedicated beta reader—Kathryn. If not for your unwavering support and keen eyes, Aspen’s Stunt would be riddled with mistakes that inadvertently creep up on a writer. I can’t thank you enough.
To my awesome LOW Sisters, from whom I derive much encouragement and inspiration. LFFL
Dedication
To my Heart—also known as my Family. I love you!
Table of Contents
Aspen’s Stunt
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1 – Waiting Room: Years Earlier
Chapter 2 – Present Day at the Farm
Chapter 3 – Los Angeles Bound
Chapter 4 – First Day on Set
Chapter 5 – On Kerri’s Radar
Chapter 6 – Truth or Dare
Chapter 7 – Aspen’s Trailer
Chapter 8 – Santa Monica Pier
Chapter 9 –Five-day Hiatus
Chapter 10 – Christmas Valley
Chapter 11 – Parade of Lights
Chapter 12 – Hospital
Chapter 13 – Gossip Travels Fast
Chapter 14 – The Break-up
Chapter 15 – As the Production Comes to a Close
Chapter 16 – Back in Oregon
Chapter 17 – Hollywood Premiere
Chapter 18 – Life on the Farm: Summertime
Other Books by Melissa Grace
About the Author
Chapter 1 – Waiting Room: Years Earlier
Aspen glared at the waiting room doorway each time she heard a noise in the hallway. The muted tan fabric on the couch refused to warm beneath her, but seemed a much better option than the dark green vinyl on the chairs against the walls. She tucked her tiny hands beneath her thighs to warm them and waited.
She watched the second hand on a moon-shaped wall clock match the mundane ticking that unsettled her nerves. She switched her gaze to the blank television that hung high on the wall across from her and willed it to turn on. Nothing. If only the noise from the television could drown out the relentless ticking, she might be able to relax a little. She noticed a remote control on the coffee table next to a stack of livestock auction magazines, unsure if she had permission to use it. She didn’t move from her spot.
Cold chills shot up her spine when she heard the first screams from down the hallway. She knew she couldn’t be there to console her mother and it made her sick to her stomach to hear her in such agony.
She fought back the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes, but the salty wetness struggled to freefall down her cheeks at any moment. Although she was only seven years old, she knew full well her little brother would be born without a heartbeat. The doctors referred to it as being stillborn. A word she had come to learn to be painful to her parents. What Aspen couldn’t comprehend is how Connor could be hurting their mother so much.
She knew not to blame the little unborn infant. Her parents had already explained that the umbilical cord had wrapped itself too tightly around his neck. She just wanted all this sadness to be over so she and her parents could go home and help mend each other’s wounded hearts.
She covered her ears with her frozen fingertips when she heard another scream. She looked up at the clock; now wishing the ticking noise would return. Her young hands, too thin to muffle out the cries that were now coming much more frequently, trembled. She closed her eyes and began to pray. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, they will be done, on earth as it is in heaven….”
Chapter 2 – Present Day at the Farm
Aspen lifted her head and looked at her hands. They had grown since that sorrowful day in her childhood. Her petite fingers were now longer and the skin had grown thicker, riddled with calluses. She inhaled. The crisp smell of autumn filled her nose.
She sat on an exposed root beneath an old oak tree with her knees tucked to her chest and her arms wrapped around her shins. She listened to a flock of migrating birds chirp their melodious tunes as colorful leaves flipped and twisted in the cool breeze. She reached for a falling leaf and caught it in her hand. It wouldn’t take long for the mighty oak to drop all of its foliage in preparation for winter. She felt a welcomed chill overtake her body as the hairs along her outstretched arm stiffened. She dropped the leaf, stood up, and with entwined fingers, stretched upward on her tippy-toes. She looked at the entangled branches overhead, thanking this magnificent tree for its patience and protection whenever she felt compelled to spend time alone, which she often did. Planted by her late great-great-grandfather, the oak stood in the clearing atop the hill of her family’s twenty-four acre property in Christmas Valley, Oregon. The tree could be seen in the distance from the rickety wrap-around porch of the farmhouse she and her father shared.
Aspen heard the dinner bell ring out from the distance. She grabbed her helmet and popped it on her head without fastening its chinstrap. She started her dirt bike with one kick of her boot against the lever and darted down the hill for dinner.
~~@
“Smells great. What’s for dinner, Dad?”
“Lasagna and garlic bread. Last night we finished up the leftovers from Thanksgiving.” Cole leaned over the open oven door and pulled out a sizzling loaf of sliced bread. Butter and garlic dripped from its crevices.
“I’m surprised we even had any leftovers.” She giggled. “Leaded or unleaded?” Aspen opened the fridge door to grab herself a cola.
“Leaded.”
She reached for a beer can and opened it with the same hand she used to carry it. She rested it by her dad’s plate. “Anything else I can grab for you while I’m up?”
“Nope. Everything’s ready.”
They sat down at the table and bowed their heads as Cole recited grace.
“Amen,” they spoke in unison.
Aspen broke off a small piece of bread, soaked it in the lasagna sauce and then popped it into her mouth. “Thought we could go to the sand dunes this weekend and blaze up some gas together.” She used her tongue to clear a piece of bread that stuck to the front of her tooth and swallowed. “Snow will be falling any day now.”
“I’d like that, Aspen. We’ll see how this week goes.”
“Okay.”
A knock at the front door interrupted their dinner.
“I’ll get it.” Aspen jumped from her seat, throwing her napkin onto the vacant seat to her side.
Cole folded his napkin and placed it next to his plate before following her into the living room.
“Sheriff Combs, come on in. Just in time for Dad’s famous Lasagna.” When she stepped to the side she could see two men in suits standing behind the sheriff.
“Not tonight, Aspen. Tonight I’m here on official bus
iness.” His frown confirmed something was wrong.
“Come on in, Gentlemen,” Cole welcomed them from the center of the living room. “Can I take your jackets?” He stepped forward to offer some help.
“No, this won’t take long,” one of the suited men answered as he rushed in through the doorway. The other man marched in after him.
“Okay, then. Can I at least offer you a seat?” Cole pointed to the thread-worn couch.
“We prefer to stand,” the other man answered. He seemed disgusted by the offer. “Mr. Kennedi, we are here about your farm.”
Cole didn’t flinch.
“It seems you are several months behind on your mortgage and have not responded to the letters from the bank. We are putting your property into foreclosure.”
Sheriff Combs removed his hat from his head and fidgeted with its rim in front of his distended belly. His eyes remained fixated on a discoloration in the rug by his feet.
“Daddy?” Aspen looked to her father for confirmation.
“It’s okay, Aspen. You go back in there and eat.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “This will only take a moment.”
“But Daddy....”
“Go sit down, Aspen.”
Aspen shifted her eyes toward the sheriff, gave him a half smile and walked back to the kitchen. She could hear the muffled voices in the other room, but couldn’t make out any words.
~~@
Cole entered the kitchen not long after Aspen heard the front door shut and the sheriff’s car pull away. The food was now stiff and cold and she hadn’t touched her plate since the initial interruption.
“I’m sorry, Aspen. I needed to talk to them alone and didn’t want you to get to worrying.”
She stood up to face him. “Is it true? Are we that far behind?”
Cole reached for his daughter and embraced her. “I’m afraid it is, but I promise I will make it right, Sweetheart. You know I’ve been working part time for Jim, down at the feed. He said he might be able to offer up some more hours. I’ll do what it takes. He even mentioned having me dole out Christmas trees this year. I can make five bucks a tree. Some people even tip when you help ‘em secure it to their cars.”
“Dad, this isn’t your problem. It’s ours. What can I do to help?”
“You keep kickin’ butt at those motocross events, Aspen. Your ridin’ skills make all the boys cry. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I will!”
“Dad, the gear and upkeep on my dirt bike is breaking the bank, isn’t it?”
“No, the economy is breaking the bank.”
“Well my riding isn’t helping, is it?”
Cole pulled away to look his daughter in the eyes. “Aspen, you are not gonna stop ridin’. I am so proud of you. I will think of something. Don’t you start worrying.”
“But, Dad…I want to—”
“This conversation is over, Aspen. Please.”
“But….”
“Aspen! Please.”
She felt as hopeless as her dad’s expression. “I’ll clean up tonight, Daddy.”
“Thanks, Honey.” He kissed her on the forehead and left for the living room with a newspaper in one hand and a warm beer in the other. He hoped the help wanted ads had multiplied overnight.
~~@
Aspen leaned her dirt bike against the white picket fence surrounding the family cemetery. She had stopped to pick up some hardy wild flowers along the way and now held the assortment in her clenched fist.
She approached a small cross-shaped tombstone with the name Connor Kennedi etched into its surface. She placed a blue flower in the native rock that surrounded the stone and proceeded on to a larger red stone the shape of a heart to its immediate right. The stone read, Iris Kennedi – Beloved Wife and Mother. Near the base was another note that read, Gone but not forgotten—you live on in our hearts.
Aspen sat in front of the memorial with her legs crossed. She dropped the bouquet of wild flowers in front of the stone and began to meticulously clear away the rogue weeds poking at its base. Rarely did the weeds have time to grow, for Aspen visited the resting place frequently.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” she pleaded to the stone. “Dad needs our help and his pride is bound to be hurt if I try and intervene, but I have to do something. I am twenty-one now. I am more than capable of working a job or two—or whatever it takes to get back on track.” A butterfly floated down to perch on one of the flowers she had just set down. She watched in awe of its beauty as it slowly, but rhythmically, opened and closed its wings. She thought it strange that a butterfly would be around this late in the year. A blue circle on its wing reminded her of her mother’s blue eyes. The same blue eyes she had inherited.
“The bank has threatened that we may lose the farm.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “This is our home. I can’t let that happen.”
The butterfly flew from the flower and rested itself on the back of Aspen’s hand. Its wings continued to perform their rhythmic dance as Aspen continued her discourse to the heart-shaped stone. “Please help me find a way to help Dad.”
She sat in silence as she observed the butterfly resting against her hand. Its touch was too light for her to feel, but she felt grateful for its company.
The sun beamed against her blonde locks of hair and emitted a gentle heat against her wind-burned cheeks. The opposing temperatures gave her goose bumps. She realized she should have worn thermal underwear beneath her racing gear.
The butterfly unexpectedly flew up and with its drunken dance, flew out of sight. Aspen looked back at her mom’s name etched into the tombstone. “I miss you so much, Mom. I love you.” She stood up and kissed its rounded edge. It felt hard and cold against her chapped lips. She walked her dirt bike a few paces from the gate of the family cemetery before she kick-started the engine into life. She raced home.
~~@
“Hey Aspen, can you come here a minute?” Cole yelled from the living room when he heard her enter in through the back door in the kitchen. He made a mental note to put some WD-40 on its hinges.
“Yeah, Dad?” She sat down on her typical side of the couch.
“A call came in for you while you were out ridin’.”
“For me? Who was it?”
“Some guy named Felix Silverlight—a very energetic guy. Said he was some sort of agent in Los Angeles. Also said he’s familiar with your motocross skills and wanted to know if you’d be interested in coming to L.A. to work on a movie set performing some of those stunts of yours.”
“What else did he say?”
“Well, he said you would be working alongside some pretty well-known actors. You would be doin’ the stunts for ‘em, of course. Said your ridin’ skills are exactly what they’re looking for.”
Aspen rubbed her forehead. “Did he say anything about the pay?”
“Said they would make it worth your while.”
“What do you think, Dad?”
“I am more interested in knowing what you think.”
She blew her bangs in the air and then bit her bottom lip.
“Sometimes you look so much like your mom, you know that, Aspen?”
She smiled. “That’s one of the best compliments I could ever get.” She looked at the clock on the center of the fireplace mantel. “I’ll give Mr. Silverlight a call tomorrow and see what he says.”
“I’m gonna make some popcorn. Wanna bowl?”
“The more butter the better.”
“That’s my girl.” He left for the kitchen.
~~@
“This is Felix Silverlight. How might I be of service to you?”
Aspen was surprised at how quickly he answered the phone and at how excited his voice sounded. “Hi, Mr. Silverlight. This is Aspen—”
“Aspen! So glad you called back. Did your father tell you about this marvelous opportunity?”
“Yes, Sir. He did.”
“And what do you think? Care to put those incredible skills of yours on the big screen for the whole wo
rld to see?”
“It sounds like a great opportunity—”
“It is, Aspen. It is.”
“Yes, Sir. I was hoping I could ask you some questions.”
“Sure thing. I am all ears.”
“When would this take place, and for how long would my services be needed?”
“Immediately. Can you get here tomorrow and sign the papers? What time is good for you?” He forced a deep laugh.
“Oh, well… I need time to finish some things up and get packed.”
“I totally understand, Aspen. You tell me when—hopefully in the next day or two, and I’ll make it happen. We can talk logistics then. Sound good?”
Aspen took a deep breath. “I can be there Monday,” she blurted out.
“Fantastic. You get here and I’ll have everything in place for you. You’ll even have your own trailer. Just pack what you need to live in for a couple, three, four, whatever months.”
“A couple or more months?”
“Give or take. No worries, Aspen. I’ll go over everything with you when you arrive Monday. Can I text you the address?”
“Um…sure. I mean…wait. I don’t have text. Can you just speak your address to me over the phone? I’ve got a pen and paper handy.”
“Look for the Felix Silverlight Agency sign off Hollywood Boulevard in L.A. I’m just a few doors down from Mann’s Chinese Theatre. You can’t miss it.”
Aspen scribbled down the information. “I am sure I can find you just fine.”
“I’ll check back in with you tomorrow. Director Gideon Wolff is going to be so excited you have decided to join us. Talk to you then.”
The hum of dial tone buzzed her ear as she placed the handset back in its cradle. She realized she never discussed payment. She decided she would have that conversation when she made it to the city. Right now she had to prepare for her temporary move to California. One that would help her and her father save the farm.
~~@
“I can’t lose you.” Cole’s eyes darkened. He hadn’t cried since he had lost his wife over ten years ago.