Someday: 3 (Sunrise) (30 page)

“Yes. You can start CKT up again as soon as you want.”

“Tomorrow?” Katy laughed and brought her hands to her face. It was more than she could imagine, almost too much to believe. The theater was hers? They could be presenting their next show as soon as spring? She lowered her hands and worked them around his waist. “I must be dreaming. I mean, can it really be happening?”

“It’s real, love.” The smile was back in his eyes. “I should’ve done it a long time ago. Maybe we would’ve spent the last few months together instead of . . .” He brushed his knuckles against her cheeks, her brow. “Come sit with me. There’s more.”

Good thing he wanted to sit. Katy’s knees couldn’t hold her up another minute, not with the way life was changing before her eyes, growing more wonderful with every heartbeat. They took seats in the front row.

Dayne turned to her. “I bought the buildings on either side. They’re yours too.”

Her mind raced frantically, pulling up images of the buildings that anchored the theater. “I can’t believe this.” If he’d purchased those too, then he wasn’t giving her the theater as an impulsive Christmas gift. He’d thought this through. But what did that mean about their future? He still had movies left on his contract and . . . and . . .

“I love you, Katy. I hope you never doubted that.”

Her thoughts shifted, and guilt rained down on her. How could she have doubted anything about him? What twisted lie had seeped into her soul that she would believe that photograph—even if the picture looked exactly like Dayne? She closed her eyes for a few seconds.
God, what did I ever do to deserve the love of a man like Dayne Matthews?

Remember, daughter . . . I know the plans I have for you . . . to give you hope and a future.

The tears came again.
Thank You. . . . Thank You, Lord
.

Katy hugged herself. “I love you too. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Only then did his entire story pour out. He explained how he’d been in Mexico, deeply affected by the scrapbook his father had made him. “I realized that sometimes a gift says more than words ever could.” When he smiled at her, he looked like a schoolboy who was young and in love, with a world of possibilities spread before him. “The right gift, anyway.”

Dayne shared his vision of a diner on one side of the theater and a coffee shop on the other. But it wasn’t until he’d pointed out the obvious things they should upgrade in and around the theater that the real crux of his plan came to light.

“I talked to my agent.” He was more serious than he’d been since she walked through the door. “I told him I need a few years off. After that I’ll do one movie a year, until I’ve finished the two films left on my contract.” Anger flickered in his eyes. “I told him he could forget casting me in a love story. I’m finished with that.”

Katy tried to remember how to breathe. Dayne hadn’t missed a single detail. “Me too. I’ve filmed my last movie.” She was still trying to take it all in, grasp the reality of what tomorrow held. She remembered one important question. “How did you . . . Why aren’t you in LA?”

“We’ll finish up after the holidays.” He took her hands in his. “I want you to come with me. We can stay indoors whenever I’m home if you want, but I don’t want to be alone. We’re a team, okay?” He made a silly face. “Then we come back here and I apply for the job I’ve always wanted.”

She picked up on his humor, and her laughter filled the theater. “Set builder?”

“Exactly.” He gave her a look of mock concern. “Of course, I’m up against some tough competition.”

“Yeah—” Katy leaned in and kissed him—“but you’re sleeping with the boss.”

Some of the silliness left his eyes. “I will be, anyway. After tonight.”

She savored the sensation of his hands in hers and willed herself to remember this moment. The feel of the wooden seat beneath her, the musty smell of the old theater, the look in his eyes. She wanted to remember it not just next week and the following months and years, but when she was old and gray. Dayne had given her the greatest gift of all—a gift even better than the theater and the chance at a normal life. He’d given her his forgiveness.

With that, the future was bound to be nothing but bright sunshine and brilliant sunsets.

Dayne didn’t want to move, didn’t want anything to interrupt this precious time with Katy. His plan had worked, and now he rejoiced with her that yesterday was gone and a sea of tomorrows spread out before them. He and Katy, together in Bloomington, making plans for the CKT kids and whatever musical they might do next.

That was something else wonderful yet to come—the announcement that Dayne had bought the theater and together they would reinstate Christian Kids Theater. Already Dayne had talked to a reporter from the
Bloomington Press
. The man needed more information from the developer and the county office. He figured the story might run sometime next week.

Dayne looked around the theater, and with an increasing sense of excitement he detailed some of the projects they could have done immediately. They would hire someone to replace the roof and restore the brick that made up the exterior of the building. The old marquee worked, but it needed a new case and improved lighting. “There’re the windows of course—”

Suddenly Katy sat a little straighter and held up one hand. “Dayne, wait—”

“We’ll restore every one of the windows to their original condition, and—”

“Hold on. . . .” She was speaking, but he didn’t really hear her. “I have something to—”

“A new furnace, maybe a whole new HVAC system depending on the . . .” A nervous chuckle sounded in his throat. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “You were saying?”

Tenderness softened her expression, and a dreamy look sparkled in her eyes. “I was saying . . . I forgot something.” Her purse was on the floor beside her; she reached inside and pulled out a small, flat bag. “I picked this up at the airport.”

Dayne studied her. He had a sense that something big was happening. Otherwise why would she be in such a hurry to give him an airport souvenir? He took the bag, reached inside, and eased the gift out. It was a tiny white T-shirt, and across the front in colorful letters it read,
I’m a Bloomington Baby
. Dayne smiled at it and then at Katy. The gift was adorable and so appropriate, especially since they had both reached the decision at the same time—that Bloomington, not Hollywood, was where they wanted to be.

“I like it.” He held it up in Katy’s direction. “We should frame it and hang it in the kitchen.”

Katy giggled. “We can’t frame it. What good would it be behind glass?”

What good would it be? He stared at the shirt again. And then like the gradual light from an early morning sunrise, a thought began to dawn on him. He looked slowly back at Katy. “You mean . . . we have a reason to
use
it?”

Her cheeks were more flushed than before. She slid closer to him, and the truth was in her eyes. “Our baby does.” She blinked back tears and seemed to struggle to find her voice again. “That’s who the shirt’s for.”

Dayne breathed in sharply and rushed to his feet. He looked at her, not sure what to do next. “Our baby? You’re . . . you’re . . .”

“I am.” She stood and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I found out yesterday when the shoot ended. I bought a test at the drugstore.”

He breathed in and willed himself to exhale. This was no time to hyperventilate. “Katy, you mean it? You’re pregnant?”

She laughed. “Ten weeks, if my calculations are right.”

Dayne let his head fall back and shouted, “I’m a dad! I’m going to be a father!” For a moment he remembered that he should already have one child by now. His former girlfriend had gotten an abortion without ever talking to him about it. But that sad story belonged to the past. He raised both fists in the air and jogged from one end of the theater to the other and back again. “I can’t believe this. It’s the best news ever.”

“I know. I couldn’t wait to tell you, but then—” she motioned to the walls surrounding them—“you gave me the theater.” She put her arms around his neck. “I didn’t remember about the little T-shirt until now.”

“All this time . . .” The truth of the situation was beyond his full comprehension. They had been thousands of miles apart in separate foreign countries, believing their marriage had fallen apart when . . . “All along God’s been knitting together our firstborn child.”

Katy slipped her arms higher around his neck and pressed the side of her face against his. “Can’t you just see it?”

“I can see it a lot better now.” He was still breathing hard, still trying to grasp the fact that in less than seven months he would be a father. This was everything he had ever hoped for, everything he and Bob had prayed about that night at Bob’s kitchen table in Mexico City.

Slowly, tenderly, Katy swayed in his arms, and he sensed that they were both holding tight to this moment. “Can’t you see her walking between us on the path around Lake Monroe?”

He pulled back just enough to catch her smile. “Her?”

“Or him.” Katy shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

She was right, of course. The only thing that mattered was that God had blessed them with a child. Dayne eased Katy’s head against his chest.

It was ironic, really. Ever since his first Hollywood break, people had said Dayne Matthews had it all. They cited the usual list—looks and athleticism, fame and more money than he knew what to do with. Cars and women and invitations to the right parties. But the fact was, all that had been meaningless and empty.

Now he would have a future with Katy here in Bloomington, where in time people would come to forget his former life. He would be known for his development of the theater project and for helping Katy with CKT, for being the best husband he could be and for taking his family to church each Sunday. And one day, not too far from now, people would see him in the role he’d always wanted—the role of being Daddy to his child.

The world could write Dayne off, complain that he had walked away from a brilliant career and more fame than a person had a right to. But in this moment the label people wanted to tack onto him was right in every possible way. Dayne truly had it all, for one wonderful reason.

Someday was finally here.

Ashley nestled back into her father’s sofa and surveyed the chaotic Christmas Eve scene taking place around her. Everyone was here, including Erin, Sam, and the girls. At the last minute, Sam had gotten permission from his boss to take a trip to Indiana to figure out where they would live once they moved here in June and to spend a few days meeting with the management in the Indianapolis office.

The timing couldn’t have been better. Last week’s storm had left a blanket of white across Indiana, and even now flurries added to the magic of the night. During dinner, her dad announced that he and Elaine had set their wedding date for the last Saturday of June, six months from now.

Ashley looked across the room to where her dad and Elaine sat at the dining room table, catching up with Erin and Sam on all the excitement surrounding their impending move. At the far end of the kitchen counter was an enormous bag of wrapping paper from the gift exchange they’d had before church.

And stacked on the counter next to the bag was today’s newspaper, with the article that had run on the front page. CKT was back in business. Katy had reported that nearly all the kids had contacted her, thrilled with the news. Auditions had been set for the last part of January, after Katy and Dayne returned one last time from Los Angeles.

All the pieces had come together, everything Ashley and Landon had prayed about. Now she couldn’t think of anything better than watching the snow fall outside the window and seeing her entire family gathered together for Christmas. Everyone except Luke and Reagan.

The house fairly shook with the sounds of love and laughter, the way the Baxter house was supposed to sound. Ryan, Landon, Peter, and Dayne were in the TV room, watching the NFL highlights from the week. Every few minutes one of them would let out a shout or a loud “Can you believe that?” The guys were close friends, and Ashley was sure that Sam was looking forward to being part of the group again.

They’d all gone to the Christmas Eve candlelight service together, even Luke and Reagan. But afterwards, Reagan had told Ashley that they needed to run an errand before joining the others. Ashley passed the word on to her dad and the others, and she figured her brother and his wife would be here any minute. She smiled at the picture they’d made earlier today at church and a few weeks ago when the entire Baxter family had caravanned to Indiana University for the Chimes of Christmas, the annual choir production that half the town turned out to see.

When their voices joined for a haunting final refrain of “Silent Night,” Ashley surveyed the faces around her and hoped—as she’d done so often before—that her mom had a window. The way Christmas was coming together would’ve made her mother so happy.

Ashley looked around the room, from the warm flames dancing in the fireplace to the spots on the floor where her sisters were playing a card game of spoons with the older cousins. Ashley was too tired to play this round. Now, snuggled beneath an old throw her mother had crocheted twenty years ago, she found herself glad for the quiet.

“Coley has s-p-o-o.” Maddie gave him a concerned look. “It’s not seeming that good for you.”

“I can still win.” He raised his brow at Kari. “Right?”

“You can.” Kari and Brooke swapped a quick smile. “It just means you’re out of chances.”

The hand began with cards passed around the circle at record speed. Ashley watched as Brooke quietly took the first spoon from the pile in the middle. Maddie took one next, and then Clarisse, Chloe, and Jessie grabbed one apiece. Kari and Katy were the last ones to get spoons, maybe half a second before Cole shot his hand toward the middle. With no spoon left to grab, he dropped his cards and shrugged.

“You lost, Coley.” Maddie used her sweetest voice. She tossed her long honey-blonde hair over her shoulder. “Sorry ’bout that.”

Ashley’s sisters tried equally hard not to laugh. None of Cole’s cousins loved him as much as Maddie did, but none of them teased him as much either.

Cole studied Maddie, and he seemed to understand—maybe for the first time—that he could still walk away a winner as long as he downplayed the importance of the victory. A smile suddenly replaced his frown. “Oh well; that’s okay, Maddie. Now I get to sit with my mom.”

Maddie looked confused, as if she should make some kind of retort. But she only frowned and turned her attention back to the game.

Cole giggled. Then he popped up, crossed the room, and snuggled on the couch beside Ashley. “Can I share the blanket?”

“Of course.” Her heart melted at the way her little boy was growing up, how his legs hung over the sofa and onto the floor now. She fanned the blanket out so they each had half. “How’s that?”

He rested his head on her shoulder. “Perfect.”

“Good.” She ran her hand over his hair.

“Whatcha thinking over here, anyway?” He reached out and took hold of her hand.

“I don’t know, about Christmas and family. How blessed we are.”

“Oh.” He sounded pensive, the way he sometimes got. “I thought maybe you were thinking about Sarah.”

The grief that was never too far away poked at Ashley’s heart. She swallowed, curious about what was on Cole’s heart. “How about you? What are you thinking?”

“About Sarah. How much I miss that little sister.” He snuggled closer. “Especially when Annie’s around.”

The tears in Ashley’s eyes were more from joy than sadness. How wonderful that for now Cole remembered Sarah, that her brief life had made a difference to her oldest son.

“I know.” Ashley looked across the room at the baby swing set up in the corner. Annie was tucked inside, nuzzled against her blanket, sound asleep. “Annie makes me miss Sarah too.”

“But at least we have Annie.” Cole peered at her. “Plus, Sarah’s safe with Grandma in heaven.”

“Right.”

Cole relaxed against her again. “I think I’ll go see if Papa wants a piece of chocolate from the candy dish.”

“Papa or you?” She tickled his ribs, and the sound of his laughter erased the sorrow from a minute ago.

“Okay . . . okay.” He stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Maybe both of us.” He waved at her as he turned and scampered off. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Ashley stood and stretched. The younger kids were at the kitchen table coloring their Christmas story books with the pictures of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus in a manger. Already her dad had gathered all the kids around and shared the Christmas story from the book of Luke, the way he did every Christmas Eve.

She wandered into the kitchen and came up behind Devin. He was using oversize baby-safe crayons, coloring long lines of red across the three wise men. He looked up and grinned at her. “Mama, see!”

“Yes, baby. Very nice.” She moved around the table admiring the pictures being created by RJ, Heidi Jo, and Amy. Last she came to the picture Hayley was working on.

It defied odds that Hayley was alive, let alone sitting at the table coloring within the lines. She smiled at Ashley. “Hi.” Her eyes were bright and innocent, the way they always would be. Every few months she reached another milestone. This year in school she was writing her alphabet, learning to spell words, and making her first attempts at reading. Things no doctor—even Ashley’s dad and Peter—ever thought she’d be able to do in the early days after her near drowning.

“Hi.” Ashley put her hand on Hayley’s shoulder. “Tell me about your picture.”

Hayley was coloring the manger scene. All the animals were brown, and the people were blue, the lines not quite neat and tidy. But the sky around Bethlehem was a brilliant, solid yellow. She talked about each of the animals and about Mary and Joseph and Jesus. Then Hayley pointed to the yellow sky. “A miracle happened that night, Aunt Ashley. So that part’s all goldy.”

Ashley could hardly argue with the logic. She was about to ask if any of them wanted another Christmas cookie when she heard the front door open.

“We’re here!” Tommy burst into the room. He was wearing glasses now, and combined with his short, spiked haircut he looked like an adorable cartoon character. He raised his hands and curled his fingers in his best impersonation of a dinosaur. Then he let out a roar that filled the house.

“Yes, we’re definitely here.” Reagan blew at a wisp of her bangs as she carried Malin into the room. “Nothing says Christmas like the roar of a T. rex.”

Conversations broke out across the house, and everyone gathered near the Christmas tree.

Brooke waved her hands until she had everyone’s attention. “You know what time it is, right?”

Ashley grinned at Kari, and a few of the men rolled their eyes.

“That’s right, all you scrooges out there.” Brooke’s voice was lighthearted, the joy in her expression undimmed by the slight sarcasm from the guys. “It’s time for the cousin photo!”

Every year they tried to find a way to put all the Baxter grandkids into one picture. This time, Ashley had a feeling it was going to take all the adults working together to pull it off. The men moved a few chairs close to the tree, while Ashley and her sisters fussed over their kids, making sure hair was in place and vanilla icing was rubbed off their sticky cheeks.

The older kids stood behind the chairs, their backs to the tree. Elaine stepped in and helped arrange the little ones in the chairs in the front. Annie was awake now, and Kari set her gently in Jessie’s arms. When it looked like everyone was in place, Ashley and the others darted out of the picture and grabbed their respective cameras.

For the next few minutes, each of them took a handful of shots. If they were lucky, there might be a single image between them with every one of the kids open-eyed and smiling.

With the photo behind them, the kids were ushered into the TV room for the traditional showing of the cartoon version of the Grinch. Once the movie was going, the adults returned to the living room.

Ashley and Landon were the last to join the others, and a hush fell over the room. Ashley looked at the faces surrounding them. She wagged her finger at them, teasing. “Okay . . . stop telling secrets.”

Reagan stood and walked to her. In her hand was a small red gift bag. She smiled, but there was something very deep in her eyes. She handed the bag to Ashley and gave her a long hug. “Luke and I had one more gift for you. Something I made for you. Of course—” she smiled at Luke—“our life being what it is, we didn’t get a gift bag until half an hour ago.”

Landon looked puzzled. Ashley had to assume that he too was in the dark about this unexpected gift. All eyes were on her as she took the bag and gave Reagan a tender smile. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” She motioned for Luke to join her, and he did, carefully dodging the crowd around the room and making his way to Reagan’s side.

Then he pulled Ashley into a hug. It took her back to their growing-up days when the Baxter house had only a fraction of people around the tree on Christmas Eve. Back to the days when her little brother was her best buddy. He eased back to his place by Reagan and locked eyes with Ashley. “It’s something we both wanted to do.”

Ashley didn’t waste any more time. She pulled the tissue from inside and handed it to Landon. Then she lifted out the most delicate Christmas ornament. It was handmade, with precious white lace and a single red ribbon woven around the circle. In the center Reagan had embroidered the words
Our Little Miracle
and beneath that the year.

“Turn it over.” Reagan moved a little closer to Luke.

Ashley did, and tears sprang to her eyes instantly. On the other side was a photo of baby Sarah. A beautiful shot, one that captured her perfect features and her precious blue eyes. Ashley looked at Reagan. “How . . . how did you know?”

“I just thought you needed something on your tree.” Her voice cracked. “So no one ever forgot about her at Christmastime.”

“No, but . . . how did you know that’s what we were praying for? That God would work a miracle out of Sarah’s life?”

Reagan’s face went blank and she shrugged. “I didn’t know that part.”

Happy tears spilled onto Ashley’s cheeks. Of course Reagan hadn’t known about the prayer she and Landon had lifted to God every day since Sarah’s birth. But God knew.

Ashley pulled Reagan, Luke, and Landon into a group hug, and beside her she could feel tears on Landon’s face too. “Thank you, Reagan,” she choked out in a strained whisper. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

The others stood and circled around, waiting to pass the ornament and remember again the face of the baby they’d known for such a brief time. The scene reminded Ashley of the way they’d shared Sarah for the few hours of her life, passing her from one to another.

This, then, was the final part of the miracle of Sarah’s life. Not only had God used her to soften the hearts of Dayne and Katy and Luke and Reagan, but none of them would ever forget the tiny daughter and granddaughter and cousin who had not lived long enough to share a Christmas with the Baxter family. And in that way she would live on, not only in heaven with their dear, sweet mother, where someday they would all join her.

But here in their hearts.

Ashley realized that she hadn’t completely let go of Sarah, hadn’t reached a point of thanking God for her short life when what she had really wanted was for her daughter’s life to outlast her own.