Bridgette
I wasn’t comfortable being in front of the cameras.
The last time I was interviewed was when I was under a year old, when I was proficient in gurgles, coos, and once in a while, Mama and Dada.
So to say I was nervous would be an understatement of the decade.
I could’ve said no, but I had a bigger reason for doing this.
My mother was launching a charitable foundation, partially funded by my brother’s rise to fame as an elite athlete, and the other half from the goodness of her own heart.
Now, don’t get me wrong.
That’s what my mother said.
Truthfully, Cordello Beauty had skyrocketed in the past year so she was advised by her business partners that it would be great to have a charitable foundation so that the company would look great in the public’s eyes.
My brother had done his part.
He’d smiled and provided media bytes that would be blasted through various news channels.
Now it was my turn.
I’d promised my mom that I’d be more involved in her business.
She’d done her part – she’d helped me navigate the media scrutiny that came with being Scott’s girlfriend.
The least I could do was this. And fifty arts and crafts organizations would be funded across the country if I did a fifteen minute interview. Paint Me Mine was one of them. I was still in touch with my former students’ parents, and all of them were excited about the news that arts would be given so much attention. Funding from the government had decreased, and like me, they didn’t want arts to go down the drain and die.
To me, that was the most rewarding part.
You’ll do great, babe. Scott’s text came through as the producer mic’d me. Don’t forget to smile.
I’d been doing mock interviews with him for two weeks now, in between practicing with Tre and Misha, my mother’s media specialist. All through Facetime.
Since Scott had been cleared to play, he’s been flying or on the team bus traveling for the road games. We barely had time for each other, but we made time. Thank you, I responded back with a smiley face.
“You ready, Bridgette?” Kalia Krawley, Inside The Life’s special features correspondent, asked. I got why my mother thought she would be a great match for me. She made me feel at home and she had a friendly vibe.
The interview would be broadcasted on the seven o’ clock segment of Entertainment Now’s channel.
The green light was on, and I felt the nerves rush through me.
“Here we are with the elusive Bridgette Cordello,” Kalia said, her flawless smile meant to charm the viewers. “I say elusive because your mom, Bettina, has done hundreds of interviews, but we’ve never really sat down with you.”
I gave her a small smile, not looking at the camera. “I didn’t think there was any need for me.”
Tre said it was okay not to look at the camera in front of me. The studio had cameras everywhere, so they were filming from all angles. They’d have the footage that they wanted of me.
“And now?” Kalia asked, “What’s changed?”
“Give Back Now is a great organization that will provide funds to those who need it. I’m personally invested in the arts, and I want to be the voice of Cordello Beauty in that aspect.” I found myself speaking from the heart. With the money that would be funneled through the brick and mortar buildings that housed young artists, they’d be given a voice through arts.
“That’s a very noble cause.” Kalia led on, “Since we’re talking about voices…is it true that you didn’t have a voice until you were almost a teen?”
I remembered the day my mother asked me if I wanted to do an interview. She knew I would say no, but she’d dangled ‘arts’ in front of me. Then to top it off, she’d asked me how great it would be if I could talk about what I went through to gain back my speech.
In a way, I guess it was her way of adding to her apology. She never denied that she was embarrassed of me when I couldn’t speak.
“It’s true.” I talked about how I lost my voice after an emotional trauma, and when I started talking, I stuttered and stammered and I couldn’t form complete sentences. Kalia’s eyes became watery as I talked about my experiences. “If I wasn’t given appropriate interventions, I’m sure I wouldn’t be talking in front of you today.”
“Give Back Now will also be advocating for speech disorders right?” Kalia asked even when she already knew the answer.
“Yes. Twenty percent will be funding organizations that help children who have speech and brain disorders.” This was another reason why I did the interview. It was expensive to get treatment, and I acknowledged that without my family’s wealth, I wouldn’t have had the success I had. It was time to give back. I’d personally talked to our lawyer to see if I could give part of the money I’d inherited from my father to fund this cause.
“Your boyfriend is Scott Strauss.” She stated, “He talked about having seizures while playing for the NFL. Could this be another reason why this charity is close to your heart?”
Scott conducted a twenty minute interview about having seizures when he was a child and recently, now that he played for the NFL. His agent had advised against it, but ultimately it was Scott’s decision. We were nervous about the fallout, but everyone had been very supportive. The league and its players had given him outstanding support, and other famous athletes divulged their own medical struggles while playing the sport that they loved.
What pre-empted Scott to do the interview was the constant threat that his medical condition would be leaked to the press.
One night, while we were talking on the phone, he’d asked the question, “What if there’s another kid like me? What if he or she’s thinking right now that they’re hindered by their disease?”
He had played four games since the day he’d had the seizure, and he wasn’t showing signs of slowing down.
The Royals’ were in playoff contention, and what was even better was his newfound camaraderie with Dex.
They’d become friends and Dex even showed up in the green room when Scott had done the interview, along with the rest of the Royals. They all wanted to show the world that they were behind their quarterback.
“Yes. We all struggle with something, and I want everyone who’s watching to know that there is someone out there to help them.” There was no shaking in my voice, only determination to get my message across.
“This is really amazing, Bridgette,” Kalia said and I gave her a big smile.
“Thank you. A lot of people have made this possible. There isn’t enough time to thank all of them, but I just want them to know that every single one of them is appreciated,” I said, my chest puffing out in gratitude. I knew that nothing would be possible without my brother’s support, and now my mother’s. Scott had also been a huge shoulder to lean on when we were brainstorming about the specific organizations to target.
We couldn’t give to all.
But we could give to some, and that mattered.
“Is this true?” Kalia asked, her eyes were wide in amazement.
“What is?”
“You’re fluent in five languages?”
My face heated, I didn’t really like to flaunt that I knew five languages. Almost seven if the other two dialects were counted.
I nodded and said, “Yes.”
Tre probably gave her that tidbit.
“You didn’t speak for a long time yet you learned all these languages?” She asked in awe.
No one had really put it that way. I thought about it for a second, and then I said, “When I couldn’t speak, art found its way into my heart. My mind became a sponge for words and I found myself thinking and wanting to speak in diverse languages. I listened and watched movies from different cultures all across the globe, trying to find myself and identify with them.”
Her brown eyes were suspended in honest appraisal, “Did you find yourself?”
“Yes, but I’m still learning every day.”
She gave me a quick smile, and her face turned towards the camera, thanking the viewers for watching the segment.
When she was done, she held out her hands for me, “You’re an amazing person, Bridgette.”
Years ago, her compliment would have made me so uncomfortable. But like I said, every day, I was still learning. Scott gave me lots of compliments, and slowly I was getting the hang of them. I also gave them right back when they were well-deserved. “Thank you. You’re a great interviewer.”
We exchanged pleasantries and Kalia excused herself to prep for another segment. I was soon engulfed in the scent of seawater and fruits.
Tre hugged me and exclaimed, “You killed it, girl! Just like I knew you would.”
“Thank you,” I said against his hold on my ribs.
He’d outfitted me in a peach Vera Wang suit that meshed well with the light makeup that I’d applied myself.
“Are you ready for your next one?” His eyes were shining with pride, “Or do you want to say no?”
I’d promised my mother one interview.
Tre was pushing it.
But in my heart I knew that one interview might not be enough to spread the word, so I found myself saying. “Okay. Maybe we can do another one.”
“That’s the spirit.” He chuckled as he punched words into his phone.
I grabbed the phone stored inside my small purse and saw the numerous texts from Rianna, Bishop, Kara, among others.
Tre signaled me to follow him, so I put my phone back and breathed in.
While the camera would never be my friend, I’d found a way to conquer the fear that threatened to swallow me whole.
I was bigger than my fear.
The kids who would benefit from the charity were bigger than my fear.
Everything else was bigger than my fear.
“Miss Cordello, we’ve given you time to think about it. Now we’d like to hear your decision.”
They were right.
They’d given me a month to think about how my future would be shaped.
After Florida, I’d gotten the call back within a week.
I was one of the twelve candidates that they’d given the green light.
I’d gone to Texas for a week for the physical, medical screening and a dozen interviews, including psych evaluations.
My school attendance had suffered, but I had a lot of room to spare.
The background screening results came in two days ago, and I was alerted that the call would be coming.
It was now or never.
Two years of commitment.
And after two years, who knew how long it would be before I could fly into space.
Scott massaged my shoulders as I called them back.
Ring.
Riiinggg.
Riiinnnggg.
He was in LA for a home game tonight, and we’d just spent half the day in bed, getting to know each other again after weeks of separation.
“I love you,” he whispered as I heard a voice come on the line.
They’d left a message because I was in the bathroom when they’d called.
If I said no, the next candidate would be notified, and they would be given the ticket to my dreams.
“I love you, too.” I kissed the side of his mouth as I spoke.
“Miss Cordello?” The voice on the other end asked, and I took a deep breath.
I loved Scott.
He was the man I didn’t know I needed.
Yet he was there for me.
He didn’t pressure me into saying no because he knew what it was like to dream so big that it took up every space of your existence.
Tonight he was playing in his last game before the playoffs.
The Royals had a seventy two percent chance of getting to the Super Bowl.
Right now, I had a hundred percent chance of making my dream come true.
Scott held my hand as I talked to the representative for NASA.
“I understand,” I said as the representative explained all the things I had to do.
“We’re delighted to have you in our program.” The monotonous tone of the person on the line swallowed the excitement I felt inside of me.
I’d put the call on speaker so when he’d hung up, the lingering sound of the phone call occupied the space between me and the man I loved.
Tears fell from my eyes as I watched Scott’s green eyes fill with joy.
He was happy.
So happy for me.
“Take a selfie for me in space,” he joked as he wiped the tears from my eyes.
“I’ll try.” I couldn’t bring a cellphone, but I could work with the ISS to make a call.
“Don’t cry because you’re leaving me.” He said, as he strong armed me to his side, “Or are you crying because you’ll miss our sexy times on and off the phone?”
“Both,” I laughed, my face getting wet from the tears that were pouring from my eyes. “I’ll miss you so much.”
“I’ll be here, babe.” His lips touched my forehead, “I’ll be here waiting for you and the minute your spaceship lands on Earth, I’ll be stripping you naked and filling you with my enormous ----.”
I slapped his shoulder and chuckled. I felt crazy, I was crying then laughing then crying, “You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s why you love me,” he said in a serious tone, and this time I climbed up on his lap so I could kiss the top of his nose.
Before I called NASA back, Scott told me to dig deep in my heart and listen to it.
I listened.
I only prayed that one day I wouldn’t regret the decision I made.