Someday: 3 (Sunrise) (26 page)

“Yes.” Her expression held the sadness that had made her on-screen performances nothing short of brilliant since her return to the set. “She was a great woman. When I die—” she looked beyond the beach to the far mountains—“I don’t want people to say I was a great actress.” She looked at him once more. “I want them to say I was like my parents.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

After that, she’d said a polite good-bye and moved her plate to another table, with a group of cast mates who were much less well-known. Since then, she’d been friendly to Dayne but never more than that. She kept her distance unless they were working on a scene.

Nothing was impossible with God if Randi could have a change of heart. It was a truth that wouldn’t have surprised Elizabeth Baxter. She had taught her children to believe in the impossible, to look for God’s redemption in all people, all the time. And now, she was passing the lesson on to him.

Lunch was almost over, so Dayne did what he did every day. He pulled out his phone and called Katy. Again the line rang and rang, and again the call was transferred to her voice mail. He sighed as the beep rang out. “Katy, it’s me. I have something important to talk to you about. Please, baby . . . please call me. I’m going crazy without you.”

Before he snapped his phone shut, he replayed her message, the only one he’d received from her since learning the truth about Luke. Her voice sounded distant and strained in the squawking way messages often sounded on voice mail.

“Dayne, it’s me.” Pause. “Sorry I haven’t been more available. Stephen wants to let us go home earlier than planned, so he’s added a few hours to every day of shooting.” Another pause. “I know you want to talk, and I do too. It feels like . . . I don’t know, like everything about our relationship was maybe a little too rushed. Anyway, we’ll talk when we’re back in the States or maybe when we’re both in Bloomington.” Only then did her voice turn tender. “No matter how bad things are, I miss you. More than you know.” She hesitated. “Talk to you later.”

That was it, the only communication he’d received from her in more than a week. Dayne gathered his determination and thought again about Elizabeth’s message. In addition to her strong belief, she was clearly concerned about Dayne’s family life—both the one he’d been raised with and the one he was creating for himself now that he was an adult.

He pressed his toes into the damp sand and longed for his return to Lake Monroe. How kind of his father to send his Christmas present early in case he needed his mother’s words more now than later. The present reminded him of the power in a gift, how sometimes the best way to express love to another person was through an action.

The director shouted that the break was over. “Places, people. . . . Take your places!”

But Dayne couldn’t move, couldn’t respond at all. An idea had begun to form and grow—first in his mind and then deep in his heart. He laughed, and the sound danced and mixed with the crashing of the surf. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The Christmas gift taking shape would be his best ever. The thought of giving it filled him with a joy he hadn’t felt in weeks.

“Matthews . . . now! We have a lot to do!”

Right. He laughed again, the smile on his face so full and complete it felt foreign. But he picked up his pace because they did have a lot to do so they could finish filming and get home. Katy didn’t know about his director agreeing to delay the wrap-up work in Los Angeles until January. She wouldn’t be expecting him back for another week—just a few days before Christmas.

Instead, he would make it home before her by a day or two. Just enough time to set his plan into motion. Dayne could hardly contain himself, because the gift he was going to give her wasn’t any ordinary present. It couldn’t be wrapped or placed under the tree. Rather, it was a gift that would take them back to the very beginning. When his mother had been granted the one thing she’d wanted before she died. A chance to meet her oldest son.

Now, if Dayne could hold on to his mother’s belief in miracles, he and Katy might both find their way back to that amazing time. So the message from Elizabeth would live on the way she’d prayed it would.

The message that nothing was impossible with God.

Despite the fact that she was completely absorbed in finishing the filming of her movie, Katy’s waking hours were consumed with two main thoughts. Getting closer to God and getting home again.

She didn’t feel well, and though the film benefited from her sadness over the situation with Dayne and her longing to speak to him in person, she worried about what it would mean once she returned to Bloomington. Depression wasn’t something she’d ever experienced, and combined with her failed marriage and the loss of CKT, the future seemed cloudy and uncertain.

Katy was sitting in one of the director’s chairs, studying her lines for the scene they were about to shoot. Five more days and they’d be done.

Stephen said he loved the dailies, and he often pulled her aside to show her how nicely the film was turning out. “You’re bringing everything you can.” He smiled at her in the fatherly way he had about him. “You won’t be sorry.”

Her job was easy, really. Wake up every morning and play herself. She’d learned a long time ago in school that the best acting happened when a person wasn’t acting. Katy could vouch for that theory personally. She read through the lines once, then went over them in her head, with her eyes focused on the tops of a grove of nearby trees. Her part was smaller in this scene; the lines were already firmly in her mind.

She shut the script but kept her eyes on the trees.
God . . . I love that You’re here in London, same as You are in Bloomington. Thank You for that. . . .
The other day she’d read in the book of Romans that people had no excuse for not believing in God because the proof of His existence was in the created things. Like the trees and the sky and even the gray, dreary clouds overhead.

God was with her, holding her. No matter what happened with her marriage, she wouldn’t lose her love for God, her need to be close to Him.

Her cast mates were gathered around the food table or sipping coffee a few feet away. But Katy was lost in thought, the way she often was.

Stephen had talked to her about her future yesterday. “There’s a lot of interest, Katy. Studios would love to have you star in another film. Frankly, I’d be honored to work with you again. You’re a natural, a real pro.”

Katy smiled because she appreciated him and how he believed in her ability. She had wondered once upon a yesterday if she was capable of acting at this level. Stephen Petrel was one of the top directors in the business, and he left her no doubt. “Thank you.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “If I was going to stay in the industry, I wouldn’t do films for anyone but you.”

The disappointment in his eyes told her he knew where the conversation was headed. “But . . .”

“But I’m finished.” There was no hesitancy in her voice or her determination. “I’ll wrap up this film and do whatever you need me to do for the premiere. But then I’m done.” A sad laugh tickled her throat. “I can’t wait, really. After doing this for a while, all I want is my life back.”

She thought about those words now. She could certainly return to Bloomington, but there was almost no hope of getting her life back. If she could, she would return to the days when CKT was flourishing and she was caught up in life at the Flanigan house. Back when she wondered about Heath the sound guy or the attorney with the strange compulsion to criticize her food choices. Or Manly Stanley, the rock-paper-scissors champion. At least then life could make her laugh.

Her past ran through her mind like a short film. She had willed herself to learn something from her days of dating Tad, the drama student she’d met in high school. When he got pulled to the top of Hollywood’s A-list practically overnight, she wasn’t surprised to hear he was doing drugs. But when he died of an overdose, she grieved privately and with purpose.

Never again, she’d told herself. She wouldn’t date an actor, and she wouldn’t wind up working in the industry. She would teach kids and stay in a small town. Anything to avoid the fate of someone like Tad. Yet here she was, married to America’s top Hollywood actor and hunted by paparazzi rabid to catch her in a less-than-perfect moment.

She squinted against the painful glare of yesterday’s compromises. She loved Dayne Matthews. He had come into her life and taken hold of her heart in a way she was helpless to resist. Not because of who the world thought he was. Because of who she knew him to be. Even now, with the dozens of tabloid stories on his unfaithfulness, she loved him.

Whether he ever came clean about the picture of him and Randi, she didn’t care. She would never doubt the truth: she’d gotten to know the man he really was, the Dayne no one else understood. She swallowed so the sadness inside wouldn’t overtake her minutes before she needed to be on. The problem wasn’t that Dayne had lied to her all along. It was that after a lifetime of playing the role of celebrity, all too often the real Dayne disappeared from existence.

Katy had hoped otherwise, prayed otherwise, but these last few weeks had given her the answer she’d dreaded. Dayne would always have a weakness for women like Randi Wells, actresses who threw themselves at him and convinced him that the love story on-screen should go on long after the cameras stopped rolling.

Since seeing the picture of Dayne and Randi, Katy’s feelings for her husband had changed. She wasn’t sure they would ever be what they’d once been.

She pictured Dayne, heard the earnest sound in his voice when he left his last message. Strange how they couldn’t connect. She wasn’t avoiding him, even though he clearly thought she was. She was merely focused on the task at hand and driven to spend time in God’s presence when she had a down moment. Truthfully, she didn’t want a list of excuses from Dayne. She wanted to look into his eyes, past the surface explanations to the private places of his heart. Only then would she know what had really happened, how he had ended up on the cover of the tabloids with Randi Wells in his arms.

Ten yards away, Stephen was motioning for people to take their places.

As Katy started to climb down from the chair, her cell phone rang. She smiled. Seemed like it was always this way. Dayne would call just when she had no time left to talk. She pulled her phone from her bag, opened it, and held it to her ear without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Katy?” The voice belonged to Ashley. “Oh, I’m so glad I caught you. I have to talk to you right now.”

“Okay.” Katy covered her other ear and tried to focus. Her sister-in-law didn’t sound angry or frantic but rather almost excited. “What’s going on?”

Ashley took a fast breath. “So here’s what happened. I just hung up the phone with my dad, and he said he talked to Luke about Mom’s letters and the scrapbooks, and then Luke told him that so far Dayne hasn’t been able to tell you.” She paused barely long enough to grab another breath. “Are you following me?”

“Um . . .” Katy tried to absorb everything Ashley was saying, but she was lost almost from the beginning. “Not really.”

“Sorry. I’ll start over.”

A smile started at the corners of Katy’s lips. Same old Ashley. So intent on making things right, on helping the Baxter family communicate and find peace with each other. She laughed, and the sound of it lightened her mood. Whatever the reason for this call, Ashley thought it important enough to place right away. She sat back in her chair and nodded toward Stephen. She’d be there as soon as the call was finished.

“Katy? You there?” In the background, she could hear a child’s voice. Probably Devin. “Tell me I didn’t lose you.”

“No, Ash, you didn’t lose me.” Again she laughed at the strangeness of the call. “Maybe you should start at the beginning. . . .”

Ashley noticed Landon the minute she hung up. She placed the receiver back on the phone base and met him halfway across the kitchen.

“How’d it go?”

“Good, I think.” She felt exhausted and grateful and on the verge of tears. “She listened. I mean . . .” Ashley slipped her arms around Landon’s neck and rested her head on his chest. “She wasn’t shouting for joy or anything, but she was interested at least.”

He stroked her hair, her back, swaying slightly and not forcing the conversation.

“This is so hard.” She didn’t want to cry. The boys were in the playroom, Cole ready for Landon to take him to school. It was a bright, sunny morning with six inches of fresh snow on the ground. She held Landon a little more tightly. “It’s twelve days till Christmas, and I wanted only one thing this year.”

Again Landon knew her well enough to stay quiet, to let her finish. He kissed the top of her head and waited.

“I wanted to be absolutely sure of Sarah’s miracle, of the difference she’d made.” Ashley pulled back. “Remember? There in the hospital room, how it seemed? Luke and Reagan looked happy, and Dayne and Katy. Especially those four.”

“And now . . .” Landon understood. His eyes mirrored her disappointment.

“Now it seems like everyone’s forgotten what it was like, standing there and watching life come into existence and be snuffed out—all in a few hours.”

“Daddy, I’m ready!” Cole’s voice sang from the other room. “Plus, Devin needs a new diaper.”

“Thanks, honey.” Landon said it loud enough for Cole to hear, but he kept his attention on Ashley. “But
I
remember.” He kissed her again, this time on her lips. “And you remember. She taught us life’s a fragile thing. Every day’s a gift.”

“Exactly.” Ashley was so frustrated with her brothers. “So what about Luke and Dayne and their wives? Don’t they see how the lives they’re living cheapen the message of Sarah’s life?” She took a step back and released him. He needed to leave, and there wasn’t much more she could say. “It’s just . . . I wanted her life to count for something right here in our own family.”

Landon held his hand up to her face and looked deep into her soul. “That’s the beauty of life . . . the reason you and I are here today.”

She covered his hand with her own. “What do you mean?”

“Remember the Bible verse that meant so much to you after we came home from the hospital?”

“Yes.” Ashley felt a calm come over her at the thought of the Scripture. “‘Be still, and know that I am God.’”

“Exactly.” He cared so much for her. His tone, his touch . . . She was grateful every moment for the chance to love Landon Blake.

Ashley liked where this was going, but she still wasn’t sure how he was applying the verse at a moment like this. She searched his face. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning . . . God works in His own timing. Maybe—where your brothers are concerned—He simply isn’t finished just yet.”

Landon’s kind words stayed with her, comforting her long after Landon had taken Cole to school and gone off to the fire station. She could only hope he was right, that what she was seeing now wasn’t the completed picture.

Ashley cleaned up Devin and then laid him down for a nap. Afterwards, she opened her Bible and let the words of the Scripture fill her soul. Yes, that had to be it. God wasn’t finished with the miracle of Sarah’s life. They could still come together the way she’d wanted them to, because there was still time.

Twelve days, to be exact.