Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee (9 page)

“That’s just it,” Gwen argued. “We want to be known as a respectable town. I don’t want to become the laughingstock of East Tennessee.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Amy said. “I won’t let it.”

“We’ll come up with the perfect cast list,” Steve added. “Just watch and see. God will work it all out. Have a little faith.”

“Hmph.” Gwen rolled her eyes. “Well, at least we know who’s going to play Guinevere.” She rose and gave him a knowing look.

“We—we do?” Amy looked back and forth between them. “Who?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gwen laughed. “I’ve already got the name. And my audition went great. You might as well give me the part. Everyone expects it. You should have heard Blossom and Annabelle talking about it. Lucy too. They’re all expecting to see me in the role. Some things are just a given.”

“But…” Amy let her words drift. There was no point in stating her opinion. She and Steve could talk about it later. But if he’d promised Gwen the role because of her name, he could think again. Everything in this show was going to be fair and square. Parts weren’t for sale, not now, not ever.

Gwen gave Steve a little wink. “You tell her, Stevie. Talk some sense into her.”

“Yes, Stevie,” Amy echoed. “Tell me all about it.”

“Well, I…” He sighed and gave Amy a wide-eyed glance. “That’s what we’re here to discuss. The cast list, I mean. So, I guess Amy and I had better get to it.”

“Yes.” Gwen nodded. “Better get to it, then.” She blew him a kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast date. I had fun.”

Breakfast date. Ugh.
The very idea made Amy feel queasy. She watched as Gwen left the diner, the bell at the door jingling as she shoved her way past an incoming customer. Amy turned to Steve, her temper near the boiling point.

“You promised her the role of Guinevere? Why? Don’t you think you should have run that by Woody first? Or me? I hardly think it’s fair to—”

“Whoa, there.” He shook his head and lowered his voice. “I never promised her a thing. Ever. I don’t know where she got that idea. Just conjured it up in that overactive imagination of hers, I think.”

As he spoke the words “overactive imagination,” Amy flinched. Was he sending her some sort of signal? Did he realize she was currently imagining how she might pull every lovely blond hair out of Gwen’s head?

“You two were pretty cozy,” Amy said. “So I just figured…”

“You figured wrong. And just so you know, I came to the diner a little early to read my Bible, have a cup of coffee, and get a little perspective. I had no idea Gwen would be here.”

A wave of relief washed over Amy. She didn’t even try to hide the smile as she responded. “Gotcha.”

“My mom called yesterday to say that she’s worried about Caroline.”

Amy’s heart twisted within her at this news. Caroline had been a mother figure to Steve and Darrell for several years, ever since their mother had remarried and moved to Memphis. “What’s going on with Caroline?”

“Not sure. From what my mother said, she hasn’t been herself lately. Not that you can really tell over the phone, but something might be up.”

“If anyone would know, your mom would,” Amy said. “They’ve been best friends forever.” As she spoke the words “best friends forever,” her heart lurched. She and Steve had been best friends forever, hadn’t they? And they knew each other equally as well.

“Mom asked if I’d keep an eye on Caroline to make sure she’s okay, so I stopped by her place this morning to check on her. I have to admit, she’s been acting a little odd. Secretive.”

“In what way?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s like she’s got something to hide. I’ll stop by her house when she’s on the phone, and she’ll end the call right away.”

“Hmm.” Amy paused. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly? I’ve been worried about her health. She went through a spell last year with that lupus flare, and she’s not been the same since. I think she’s keeping something from us.”

“Weird. You think she’s struggling with something and doesn’t want you guys to know?”

“I don’t have a clue. I just know that she’s been gone from the house more than usual. Sometimes I’ll come for a visit and her car will be gone.”

“Maybe she’s gone off to Knoxville on a shopping spree. You know she loves to shop. Remember how she and your mom would head off to the mall in Knoxville and not tell anyone?”

“Right.” He shrugged. “But I don’t see her wearing any new clothes. So I have to think there’s something going on. And my gut tells me it’s not good. I’ve been half-tempted to ask Mom to call her rheumatologist.”

“I’ll be praying for her then,” Amy said. She pursed her lips, not saying any more. If Caroline was really headed back into another lupus flare, then she had a tough road ahead of her. Amy swallowed hard, thinking of her own mother—and how deeply that loss still affected her, even now. Oh, how she wished for one more minute of conversation, one more mother-daughter talk.

Amy’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. “What would you two like to order?”

She looked up at Prissy. “Oh, um…yes.” Amy glanced at the menu. “I’ll have the Camelot Special.”

“How do you want your eggs?” Prissy’s voice had a bit of an edge to it as she refilled Steve’s coffee cup.

“Over easy,” Amy responded.
Just the opposite of your attitude today.
“No, make that scrambled. I’ll try something different today.”

“Adam and Eve on a raft,” Prissy hollered back to the kitchen. “Wreck ’em!” The teen turned her attention to Steve and fluttered her eyelashes. “Mama said to tell you that your breakfast is on the house. Since you’re the mayor and all.”

“Well, thank you.” Steve glanced at Ellie Parker, who stood at the register and gave a little wave.

Amy did her best not to sigh out loud.

“So, what would you like to order, Steve?” Prissy asked, her eyelashes still going to town.

“I’ll have the same thing Amy’s having, but add a bowl of grits. And bring extra packets of sugar, okay?” He gestured to the empty container and the stack of opened packets to his left. “I go through a lot of it.”

“Sweets for the sweet. That’s what my mama always says.” She flashed a bright smile and walked away.

Hmm.
Well, at least one of them still had the ability to make people smile. Thankfully, Steve slipped into easy conversation about something to do with the new theater, and Amy relaxed. She could read the excitement in his eyes and praised God for it. Before long, the food arrived. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze then bowed his head and prayed. Oh, how she loved listening to the sound of his voice as he chatted with God in such an easygoing manner.

The next few minutes were spent eating and talking about everything except the play. By the time Amy swallowed the last of her eggs and toast, she was ready to get to business. She reached into her purse and came out with the page she’d stayed up half the night creating.

“What have you got there?” Steve tried to sneak a peek, but she pulled the paper back, not ready to show him just yet.

“Hear me out, okay?”

“Okay.” He shoveled a spoonful of grits into his mouth then gave her a curious look. The same look she saw every time he doubted her sanity. “Whatever you say, Amy. You’re the director.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Woody and I talked on the phone till the wee hours last night. We filled most of the roles.”

He gave her a look of admiration. “Good. I knew you could do it.”

“I’m still waiting to hear back from Chuck Manly. He was running late yesterday because of a doctor’s visit.”

“Oh? Is he sick?”

“Strep throat. So I told him we’d give it a couple of days and then let him try out for Lancelot. He’s the right age, right look….”

Steve’s brows elevated. “Chuck Manly, the butcher, is your ideal Lancelot?”

“Well, not ideal, exactly. But I think he could do it. If he can act and sing, I mean.”

“Hmm.” Steve took another sip of his coffee.

“What?” Amy looked his way. “You think it’s crazy?”

“Not sure. I’m trying to imagine Chuck up on stage with a meat cleaver in his hand and that bloody apron he wears all the time. Brings into question the peacefulness of the knights of the Round Table.”

Amy laughed. “Trust me, it’s hard to imagine any of the people of Camelot up on the big stage. But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am.”

“In spite of what Gwen said?”

“Yes, in spite of Gwen.” Amy sighed. Steve leaned over to read her notes. As he did, the scent of his cologne captivated her. She leaned closer, drawing in the aroma.
Mmm.

“Um, Amy?” Steve gave her a curious look. “What, um…what are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry.” She paused. “I, um…I like that cologne you’re wearing.”

“It’s aftershave, actually.” He patted his face. “I just shaved.” A broad smile lit his face.

She studied his face, noting that his usual stubble had been replaced by slick skin. “Wow. That’s the cleanest I’ve seen you since the seventh grade.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if my five-o’clock shadow shows up before noon,” he grumbled. “It’s a curse, not a blessing, trust me. But I’m getting a little tired of Eula Mae ragging me about it every day. She goes on and on about how scruffy I look. And she’s not keen on my sandals, either.” He sighed. “I just like to be comfortable. Is that a sin?”

“Of course not.” She smiled, thinking of how awesome he looked with a little stubble on his face. How manly. For whatever reason, she reached up and ran her fingers along his now-smooth cheek, smiling as she enjoyed their nearness.

“What?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Say what’s on your mind.”

I don’t dare. Better get busy.
She dropped her hand and redirected her gaze to the cast list. “We don’t have it all figured out, but there’s a good foundation. We liked Darrell in the role of Mordred. And I think Sarge could probably pull off the role of a jousting knight, thought it might take a bit of prayer for his safety, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course.” Steve chuckled. “This whole thing’s going to take a lot of prayer, Amy.”

“Um, yeah.” She paused and looked at the paper, knowing that prayer was the only answer. They certainly couldn’t pull this off without intervention from on high. “Pete can play Sir Lionel and Grady would be okay as Sir Dinadan. The twins did a fine job, so they can be knights, too. Oh, and Woody will be Merlin, of course. That’s a given.”

“And you’re hoping Chuck can pull off Lancelot.”

“Yes.” Amy nodded. “And I think my dad would make a fine Pellinore. Now let me fill you in on the women’s parts.” She turned the paper over and glanced at the names she’d written down, happy for the distraction. “Prissy, Gwen, and Blossom can play ladies-in-waiting. I don’t see any of them as Guinevere. I know that Natalie could have pulled it off—I’ve heard her sing a hundred times in church—but not six months pregnant.”

“By the time we get around to our first performance, the baby will be due,” Steve added. “Can you imagine how much fun that would be?” He chuckled as he pushed his plate back and took another drink of his coffee.

“No kidding.” Amy laughed. “But don’t worry, I have some other ideas for Guinevere. I was thinking that maybe—”

She paused as Prissy drew near the table with the coffeepot in hand. “You want some more?” she asked, her gaze fixed on Steve.

“No thanks.” Amy and Steve spoke in unison.

Prissy leaned forward. “What are you two doing over here, anyway? Talking about the cast list? Can I see it?”

Amy pulled the paper off the table and held it close. “We’ll be posting it on the door at City Hall at eight o’clock on Monday morning. You can see it then.”

“Okay.” Prissy shrugged and a hint of pain filled her eyes. “Not that it matters. I’m going to be too busy trying out for Miss Teen Tennessee to be in that stupid play, anyway. Mama said it would be a waste of my time, since it’s not a professional production.”

After she left, Steve sighed. “Let’s get out of here, okay? We can wrap this up at the office, if you’re okay with that.”

“Sure. I think we’re better off in private, anyway. I feel like everyone around us is listening in.”

They rose and made their way to the register, where Prissy checked them out. Amy noticed the still-pained expression on the teen’s face. She tried to decipher it but could not. Embarrassment perhaps? Frustration? Yes, she’d suffered both during the audition process. Well, Amy would do her best to encourage her, should she choose to participate in the play after all.

Minutes later, Amy and Steve reconvened in his office at City Hall. Thankfully, Eula Mae had not yet arrived for the day. Amy had a few things on her mind that required Steve’s full attention.

“I’m glad we’re alone,” she said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” He smiled. “I’m glad we’re alone too.”

Amy paused, noting the flirtatious look in his eye. Interesting.

“Okay, well, here’s where things get serious.” Amy worked up the courage to say the rest. “I need you to do something for me, Steve.”

“Other than build a theater and change the direction of an entire town?” He grinned.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard then forged ahead before her nerves got the better of her. “We’ve joked around about this long enough. It’s time to get serious.”

“Serious is nice.” He wiggled his brows.

“Good.” Amy grinned. “Glad you feel that way. Because I’ve made up my mind once and for all. I need you to play the lead in the show. You’ve got to be our King Arthur.”