“Thank you.” She took the flower, and for a moment she was too flustered to remember even having an idea, let alone what it was. But then it hit her again. “You should use Bloomington. That way you’d get a real small-town atmosphere. The areas around town are perfect.”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “That’s a thought.”
“Dayne . . .” She stopped and turned to him, the sun shining on her face. “You’ve been to Bloomington, haven’t you?”
“Me?” For a heartbeat it looked like he might deny it. But then he shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a nice place.”
“Why?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see into the deeper places behind the famous smile. “You came to the theater for ten minutes and left. How come?”
“I was passing through.” He looked down and started walking again. “It’d been a long time since I’d seen community theater.” He looked back at her and grinned. “Come on. It wasn’t a big deal.”
She didn’t believe him, but she caught up and fell in step beside him again. “Is that why you wanted me to read for the part? Because you saw me there?”
Dayne hesitated. He looked like he was choosing his words carefully. “Yeah, it was.” He gave a casual toss of his hands. “Happens all the time, Katy. You see someone for a few minutes, and next time there’s a casting decision, that person comes to mind.” He smiled at her. “Lots of women read for this part, lots of talented actresses. But I kept picturing her the way you looked that night onstage.”
“So it wasn’t my TV movie?” The information was heady. Dayne had seen her and remembered her, and now she was his top choice to star in the film with him.
“It was a few things.” He chuckled. “I had someone check your background, see if you had any acting experience. They found the pilot, and after I watched it, I knew you could handle the part.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Nothing more than that.”
The pieces were coming together. “But why were you in Bloomington?”
For the first time, a whisper of panic flashed in Dayne’s eyes. He stuck his hands in his pockets and gave an easy kick at a loose rock on the sidewalk. “I told you, just passing through.”
“Come on.” She lowered her chin and brought the petunia close to her nose, trying hard to keep things light. “From where?”
This time his answer was quick. “The university. I have a friend who teaches drama there.” He raised his eyebrows at her, teasing her. “I was a guest speaker for the afternoon classes. I was heading back to Indianapolis for my flight the next morning when I saw your theater.”
A low jet rumbled by, and she waited until it passed. His story was believable, and she didn’t know him well enough to push him at this point. But something was missing—it had to be. Why wouldn’t he have spent the evening with the professor friend? And why had he been driving through downtown? There was easy freeway access from the university.
But he was finished talking about Bloomington; she could tell.
When the plane passed, he motioned ahead of them to a trailer not far from the main studio. “Whenever I’m in town, this is mine.” He started walking again. “The studio has me for my next four movies. This was one of the perks.”
“Nice.” She felt breathless. Reading a script with Dayne alone in his trailer? Her brief time with him told her she could trust him. But how smart was this?
He led the way inside and pointed to a table, a chair, and a sofa. “There’s the script. You can get started. I’ll make us something to eat.”
The trailer was fully stocked with pastries, bagels, and muffins. The refrigerator held juice and a couple dozen eggs, among other things. Dayne moved easily around the small kitchen, and Katy remembered what he’d said the day before—that most of his nights were spent home alone watching movies. He probably made most of his own meals. The thought made him seem more down-to-earth, almost like any other guy.
She picked up the script and thumbed to the middle. It was nice to have a chance to look through it. That way if there was anything she wouldn’t feel right about filming, she’d know it before agreeing to take the part.
The story line was good, funny and strong with twists no audience would expect. She was caught up in it when Dayne joined her, placing two plates of scrambled eggs and sliced fruit on the table. He took the chair opposite her, and she felt herself relax. He wasn’t interested in her, and just because he brought her to his private trailer didn’t mean he wanted to reenact the scene they’d done the day before.
She held up the script. “I like it.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “It’s perfect for this kind of story.”
“Yeah.” He slid to the edge of his seat and held her eyes for a few seconds. “If you take the part it will be.” A file sat on a smaller table next to him, and he reached for it. He took a document from inside it and held it out to her. “This is a contract, Katy. The third paragraph shows what we’ll pay you.”
She pushed the script away. Her hands were unsteady as she took the contract. She was almost afraid to look, but she did anyway. The amount made her gasp. It was a high six-figure number, a sum she would never earn in a lifetime of directing CKT productions.
She looked at him and shook her head. “Dayne . . . that’s unbelievable.”
“That’s what everyone will say three years from now when you’re making five million a film.” He leaned back, and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips. “They’ll all want to know how we ever got you for such a low price.”
Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if he could hear it from across the table. With everything in her, she wanted to tell him yes. Yes, she’d take this incredible opportunity. Yes, she’d work a few weeks for a lifetime paycheck, working beside him in a film that was both funny and poignant, a movie that was clean enough for her to risk her reputation on.
But a still, small voice inside her was saying something, and Katy calmed herself long enough to listen. Wait, daughter . . . wait on Me.
She closed her eyes and took a slow breath through her nose. Fine, God, I’ll wait. But it’s yes. I know it is. She opened her eyes, set the contract on the table next to the script, and grinned at Dayne. “Can I be honest?”
“I hope so.” He crossed one leg over the other, his eyes dancing.
“I’d sign it right now, but . . .” She reminded herself to exhale. “I need a week. Just to pray about it and make sure it’s the right thing.” She winced. “Is that okay?”
“Sure.” His answer was quick, and the disappointment in his eyes lasted only an instant. “Mitch’ll want an answer no later than that, okay?”
“Definitely.” She wanted to run over and hug him again, but she contained herself. There would be plenty of opportunity for hugs in the weeks to come. “I’ll probably have an answer sooner.”
“Good.” He bit his lip, studying her. “So what about CKT and your life in Bloomington? Are you ready to give it up?”
“No.” She gave a polite laugh. “Filming the movie wouldn’t take more than a few weeks. I’ll miss one of the CKT shows, but that’s all. I don’t want to leave Bloomington.”
Something in his eyes changed. “I guess I never asked you. Is there someone there? I mean, are you seeing someone?”
“No.” She felt her cheeks grow hot. Was she embarrassed that at her age there was no one serious in her life, or was she half hoping he was asking for other reasons? She wasn’t sure. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that I like what I do. I don’t want to leave it.”
“Katy . . .” He stood and went to the kitchen for two glasses of orange juice. He took one and gave the other to her, then sat facing her. “Before you say yes, you have to be willing to give it up. All of it.”
She searched his eyes, trying to see if he was serious. He was. “I . . .” She shook her head. “I guess I don’t understand. It’s my choice, right?”
He chuckled. “You really don’t know how good you are.” He motioned to the script. “That’s just the beginning, Kat
y. You’ll have more offers than you know what to do with.” His expression softened. “This was your dream, remember? You said a minute ago that you like what you do with the kids theater. But acting, Katy? That’s something you used to love. You told me so yesterday at Pepperdine. Aren’t I right? Wasn’t acting your dream?”
Her head was spinning. He was right; she’d said that. But what about CKT? From the beginning she’d told herself she could go back, that she could handle a short season of fame and return to the life she’d been living. But now . . .
She looked at him. “Yes. It was my dream for most of my life.”
“Well, then, Miss Katy Hart . . . maybe the sign from God you’re looking for—” he took the contract and handed it to her one more time—“is right here.”
Later, Katy was on her way out of the studio with the same driver who’d picked her up this morning when they nearly collided with another car. The vehicle pulled out right in front of them, so Katy’s driver had to swerve into the next lane.
Katy caught a glimpse of the person who nearly caused the wreck, and the woman’s look sent chills down her arms. Her eyes were wide and intense, and they looked at Katy straight on. The woman was maybe in her forties, her hair yellow and coarse. She looked like a lunatic.
The driver muttered something under his breath. “No-good paparazzi.”
“Paparazzi?” Katy stared straight ahead as her driver pulled up alongside the woman. “She doesn’t look like a reporter, really.”
“Ah, they come in all sizes. But that one’s here just about every day. Parks in a different spot each time.” He waved his thumb over his shoulder at the car they were passing. “But it’s always that same old yellow Honda.”
Katy was barely listening by this point. They hadn’t collided; that’s all that mattered. Besides, all she could think about was the fact that she’d be having dinner with Dayne tonight at the studio—his idea since she was leaving tomorrow. They’d probably spend more time talking about what he’d told her earlier today.
The fact that maybe the audition and the offer of the part and the contract weren’t merely wonderful events that had taken place in recent weeks, but rather the signs from God she’d been praying for all along.
The painting party was Ashley’s idea—something fun she and Landon and Kari and Ryan could do. A date night of sorts. She and Landon had been assigned the task of creating the backdrop for Tom Sawyer—something with trees and a winding river and distant buildings that might’ve been seen in the town of Hannibal, Missouri, back in the 1800s. She’d been working since Monday on the design for the enormous canvas. Now it was Wednesday night, and the scene was ready to paint.
They all drove together and picked up cheeseburgers and pop on the way to the Bloomington Community Theater. Each of them was dressed in old work clothes, and Ryan entertained them on the ride over with stories of the first summer football practice.
“Jim Flanigan is so great with the kids.” Ryan sat in the backseat, his arm around Kari. “One of these days he should stop dreaming about getting back to coaching in the NFL and come on as head coach at Bloomington High. That way I could be the part-time volunteer and take a break.” He tapped Ashley on the shoulder. “After tonight I might become a professional painter.”
She grinned over her shoulder at him. “You never know. We might have to hit the road, all four of us.” She ran her hand in front of her from left to right. “I can see it now. Painting sets for theaters in small towns across America.”
Kari laughed and poked her on the opposite shoulder. “Maybe you should see what we’re capable of first.”
“True.” Ashley looked at Landon. “I know my dear husband can hardly wait to roll up his sleeves and get started.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Right, honey?”
“Yeah.” He gave Kari and Ryan a sarcastic look in the rearview mirror. “Picasso in the flesh.” His gaze shifted to Ashley. “I told you to bring Cole instead of me. That kid’s way better at staying in the lines.”
Laughter filled the car as they parked and crossed the street to the old theater. Kari stayed next to Ashley, and when they reached the doors, she mentioned how happy their father had been to watch the children for the night.
“He had the old spark in his eyes, the one he always had when Mom was alive.” Kari wore shorts and a worn T-shirt. The clothes didn’t hide her looks, looks that allowed her to still maintain a career in catalog modeling.
“I asked Cole to help out with the little ones.” Ashley made a face as she led the way into the theater. “You don’t think it’ll be too much for Dad, do you?”
“No.” Kari stayed beside her, with the guys still talking football a few feet behind. “Little Ryan’s tired. Cole and Jessie can play with him for an hour or so, and then he’ll sleep.”
Ashley flipped on the lights in the seating area and headed up toward the stage. “You guys can start on the burgers. I’ll get the stage ready.”
Bloomington Community Theater was more than a hundred years old, with detailed architecture that spoke of a different era. It had tall ceilings and a dusky cedar scent, the way an attic might smell in a century-old house. Tall, thick black velvet curtains separated the stage from the intimate theater seating. At the back, two small balcony sections offered a different view for another sixty people. All said, the theater held maybe four hundred people, perfect for the type of shows CKT put on.
Ashley loved the place.
The theater owners had agreed to let her have access to the stage every evening this week for the purpose of creating sets. During the day the building’s upstairs served as a dozen business offices. But at night the facility was open for rental by members of the community.
The wonderful thing about having the painting party at the theater was that the expansive stage was the one place large enough to serve as a workspace for the backdrop.
Ashley tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and jogged up a set of stairs to the stage. It was cool and drafty, a relief from the heat and humidity outside. She turned on the lights, worked the cords to open the curtain, and then spread the canvas out across the stage.
Ryan set his sandwich down and came to the edge of the stage, his eyes wide. “Tell me we’re not painting that whole thing.” He stuck his hands in his shorts pockets. “I have practice in the morning.” He gave Ashley a teasing look. “We’ll be done before then, right?”
“I told her—” Landon strolled up the center aisle and took a spot next to Ryan—“it’d take a crew of people three days to paint this thing. But you know Ashley—where there’s a will there’s a way.”
Ashley gave them a knowing smile and lightly stepped down the stairs back to Kari and the burger they’d saved for her. “We’ll start in ten minutes, and you’ll see. It’ll go faster than you think.”
Ashley opened her sandwich and took a moment to thank God for what she had right here—a best friendship with her sister Kari, both of them married to guys who had loved them since high school. It was rare and wonderful, and on nights like this she couldn’t be thankful enough.
They ate their meal, the guys continuing their teasing about the task that lay ahead. When they finished their food, they took off their shoes and walked to the middle of the canvas, where Ashley had the paint and brushes set up. They’d work from the center out. She gave out assignments. The guys would use larger brushes and paint the upper area, a row of thick trees and foliage.
“I’ve already painted the outline of the trees and branches.” She pointed to the top half of the backdrop. “All you have to do is stay in the lines. Kari and I will work on the buildings and the river.”
Landon took his brush and a can of green paint. “I tell you, you’re going to wish you’d asked Cole.”
They set to work, painting and chatting about the other Baxters. Ryan asked if anyone had talked to any of the other Baxters lately.
“I’ve talked to Luke.” Ashley was painting the roof of a general sto
re brown. “He and Reagan are coming out for Christmas. At least that’s the plan.”
“I wish they’d move here.” Kari dipped her brush into a pale blue paint and added more color to the river she was working on. “It’s hard having him and Reagan so far away. Our kids won’t even know each other.”
“What about Erin?” Landon was sprawled out, his section of trees growing green at a fast pace. “How’re the girls working out now that it’s been a year?”
Kari smiled. “I talked to her last week.” She sat back on her heels, her brush in her hand. “It hasn’t been perfect, but Erin doesn’t mind. The two babies have been sick, and the little girls are in preschool, learning their alphabet, that sort of thing. I can’t imagine going from no kids to having four daughters in a few weeks like Erin and Sam did.” She blew at a wisp of hair and set back to painting. “I think they’re doing great.”
Landon dipped his brush. “Do the older girls ever talk about their mom?”
“Clarisse did at first.” Kari’s smile faded. “She wanted to know why Erin didn’t yell at her the way her mommy did.”
“That’s so sad.” Ryan stood and stretched, admiring his trees. “Only God could’ve brought those little girls where they needed to be— with Erin and Sam.”
“Yeah, how’s Sam doing? Are the girls bonding with him?” Landon didn’t look up from his work.
“They are.” Kari went to work again. “The babies never had any problem, but the older girls took about eight months. All they’d ever known from men was anger and violence. It’s amazing they could bond at all.”
Ashley surveyed the canvas. Already it was about a fourth covered with paint. “You guys, see how good you are!” She stood and marveled at their work. “I was right. We need to take this act on the road.”
“Yeah, the whole fear-factor thing was just a big act.” Kari winked at Ryan. “We’ve got years of this type of experience, right, Ryan?”
Landon laughed. “You know, sometimes I think you and Ashley are twins. You look alike and act alike, and you can both tease with the best of them.”