Forgiven

  Immediately, the street people began blowing on their fingers and rubbing their hands together.

  “That’s it, and look interested in each other. You’re in a soup line, but you’d be making conversation.”

  The kids started talking with each other.

  “No, wait!” Katy stood and waved her hand. “Silent conversation, pretend conversation.”

  A few of the older kids hid a round of laughter, but the noise dropped. The girl in the middle held an imaginary ladle and looked down the line. “Another day, another bowl of soup.”

  Katy looked at Kelsy. “That’s your cue, honey.”

  “I know, but the dog’s smelling my shoe.”

  “That’s okay.” Katy took a few steps toward her. “Dogs do that. Just pull on his leash and bring him onstage.”

  She tugged at the leash and walked to the middle of the group of street people. “Hi, everyone. Hey, did anyone lose a dog?”

  The street people responded with a mix of quiet no’s and head shakes.

  “Well, then . . .” Kelsy took another step toward the people.

  “Open up, Kelsy.” Katy was back at the front pew, getting what would be the front view of the scene. “We have to see your face at all times.”

  She nodded and turned her shoulders toward the front of the room. “Well, then, did anyone give up a little redheaded girl nine years ago?”

  A few more lines of conversation followed, and then the scene went into a reprise of the earlier song. When it was finished, on came Bryan Smythe, the new CKT heartthrob and one of the kids attending the weekly Bible study at the Flanigan house. He scattered the street people and then approached Kelsy. “Hey, little girl, what’s your name?”

  “Annie.”

  “Hmmm.” He gave her a stern look. “This your dog?”

  “Yes, mister.”

  At the sound of his name, the dog did a happy circle around the two of them, wagging his tail and hanging his tongue from his mouth. In the process the leash wrapped around Kelsy’s and Bryan’s legs, and the two of them teetered and tipped and finally toppled onto the stage with the dog between them.

  Mister hovered over Kelsy and began licking her nose.

  “Help!” Kelsy screamed.

  “Don’t panic!” Bryan tried to push his way between her and the dog.

  Kelsy’s arms were flailing. “Get him off me!”

  Katy put her head in her hands. She walked up to the kids and helped them get untangled. “Okay, so let’s cut the word mister from the scene.”

  Again a round of giggles came from the kids who were now watching from either side of the stage.

  “Yes, it’s all very funny.” Katy smiled at them. They were right; it was funny. But they still needed to find a way to make it work. “Remember—” she took the leash from Bryan and pulled the dog to her side—“we open in six weeks, and so far the dog scene’s nothing more than a comedy routine.”

  She handed the leash back to Kelsy and showed her and Bryan where to stand. “Let’s take it from the part where Bryan asks you if this is your dog.”

  Bryan did as he was told. The kid had two parts in the play. Police officer in this scene and the one where he has to return Annie to the orphanage, and the rising star in the NYC song, mostly because he was amazing at belting out the solo in the middle of the number.

  Bryan gave Kelsy a stern look. “This your dog?”

  “Yes . . .” Kelsy shot a glance at Katy. “Yes, sir.”

  “All right, then what’s his name?” Bryan pretended to have a billy club in his hand, and he tapped it against his open palm.

  “Uh . . .” Kelsy looked at the dog. “His name’s Sandy. That’s it, Sandy. Because of his nice sandy color.” She smiled at Bryan. “He’s my dog, all right.”

  “I guess we can see about that.” Bryan walked the dog across the stage and turned to face Kelsy. He unhooked the dog’s leash and held him by the collar. “Call him, and if he comes to you, then he’s your dog. If not, he goes to the pound.” He paused. “Okay, kid. Call your dog.”

  Kelsy gulped, just the way Katy had told her to. She crouched down and looked at the dog. She held out her hand and said, “C’mere, Sandy. Come on, boy. Come, Sandy.”

  From her place in the pew, Katy held her breath. The next part was the riskiest of all.

  Bryan released the dog, but instead of going to Kelsy, Mister trotted to the center of the stage, sat down, and stared out at the pews. He headed back past Bryan, down a set of stairs, and into the aisle to one of the mothers sitting four rows back.

  Again there was laughter, and Katy raised her hand. “I have an idea.” She ran onstage, knelt at Kelsy’s side, and hung her tongue from her mouth. Then she crawled on all fours to Bryan and looked straight at Kelsy.

  Bryan picked up on it. “Okay, kid,” he said between bouts of laughter, “call your dog.”

  Kelsy held out her hand and said, “C’mere, Sandy. Come on, boy. Come, Sandy.”

  Katy shook her behind as if she were wagging her tail; then she hurried on all fours straight to Kelsy. The parents in the audience broke into applause, and Katy jumped to her feet and took a bow. “If we can’t get Mister to do it, I’ll be the dog.” She rushed back to her seat. “No need to panic.”

  Mister’s owner was here this morning, watching her daughter play one of the servants. She came up and sat next to Katy. “I think I know how to make the scene work.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” The woman gave her dog a disdainful look. “Raw hot dogs.”

  Katy felt herself frown. “For . . . ?”

  The woman grinned. “For Mister. He loves raw hot dogs.” She pulled a bag from her purse, and inside were a few mottled brown sticks of meat. “I can tear them into pieces, and Kelsy can hold them. Mister will come to her for sure that way.”

  It all made sense in an instant. “Of course. Great idea.” Katy reached for the bag of hot dogs but changed her mind. “Would you do that? Tear them up for us?”

  The woman agreed. She sat in the pew ripping apart the hot dogs, while Katy went to Kelsy and explained the newest idea.

  Kelsy shook her head. “Hot dogs make me sick.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re slimy and gross.”

  Next to her, Bryan gave them a look that said he agreed with her.

  Katy put her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t matter what you think of them, honey. Mister likes them.”

  The dog’s owner came up with the plastic bag containing what was now a cup of ripped-up hot dogs. Kelsy was right; they didn’t look very tasty.

  Katy took them and handed them to Kelsy. “Put them in the pocket of your coat. We’ll make sure you have a coat with pockets in the show. That way you can reach in and grab a few pieces when you need Mister to come, okay?”

  They ran the scene again, and this time when Kelsy called the dog, he came to her at a full run, knocking her down. He snatched the bag of hot-dog bits and ran toward the back of the sanctuary.

  It was two o’clock, time to wrap things up. Katy watched the dog head through the back doors of the sanctuary. She turned to the kids and tossed her hands in the air. “Okay, so we pray about the dog. Every one of us, all right?”

  The kids were grinning, all of them except Kelsy. Bryan was helping her to her feet, but she had a disgusted look on her face and she held her hands out in front of her. Bryan led her offstage and signaled Katy that he’d help her wash up.

  “Okay.” Katy took a deep breath. “Like I said, if we don’t get the dog to work, I’ll wear the collar.”

  The kids filled in around the stage, and they had five minutes of conversation over what they could improve, what they still needed to work on. Then they prayed and Katy dismissed them. The older kids were planning to meet later that afternoon at the Flanigans’ for another Bible study.

  Katy was glad. It gave her a purpose, a reason to stay busy so she wouldn’t think about Dayne. The problem was, she needed to think about him. She’d bought him a B
ible and printed out the notes on Kabbalah. The two items were in a bag in her car. Now she had to get them to him without showing up on the set or calling him—two things she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.

  When the kids were gone and Mister had been caught by his owner and returned to her car, Jenny Flanigan approached Katy. Bailey and Connor and Tim Reed milled about near the back of the sanctuary, clearly waiting for Jenny. She touched Katy’s shoulder. “Hey . . . how’re you doing?”

  “Good.” Katy laughed. “The dog thing’ll come together eventually. I have a good feeling about it.”

  “No, Katy.” Jenny searched her eyes. “I mean about Dayne. They’re finishing soon, and you haven’t mentioned him.”

  “I know.” Katy bit her lip.

  “We’re stopping by there on our way home. The kids want to watch the filming.”

  She wanted to go too, wanted to blend into the background and watch Dayne up close. Just so she could remember what it had been like being with him. But since she wasn’t allowing herself to do that, she had an idea. She reached for her notepad. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.” Jenny’s concern rang in her voice. They hadn’t talked much about Dayne in the past week, but it was clear Jenny understood that things couldn’t be good between Katy and him.

  Katy scribbled fast on a piece of yellow lined paper. She tore it from the pad and folded it six ways before holding it out to Jenny. “Can you give this to Dayne? Tell him I couldn’t come, but I wanted him to have this.”

  “I can do that.” Jenny took it and stuck it in her pocket. She hesitated. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

  “No.” Katy felt her eyes well up, and she exhaled through pursed lips to stop herself from getting emotional. “I have work to do before the older kids come by this afternoon. Just . . . just give him the note.”

  “Sure.” Jenny gave her a hug. “It’ll be okay, Katy. I’m here for you if you want to talk.”

  She nodded and took a step back. Jenny started to head up the aisle as Katy remembered one last thing. “Wait!”

  Jenny turned around.

  “Make it look like you’re a fan, okay? Tell him to read it later, so no one thinks anything of it.”

  “I will.” She nodded toward the kids. “I think we’ll be getting a few autographs. I’ll blend right in.”

  Katy watched them until they left the sanctuary. She wanted so badly to go with them, to see how Dayne was doing and look into his eyes. That way she wouldn’t have to ask, because she would know within her, the way she knew what he was feeling every time they’d been together. For a moment she considered running after Jenny and forgetting all the reasons why she had to stay away. But then she remembered the note. If they could get it to Dayne, she wouldn’t need to go to him out on the street location.

  Because he would find her.

  Jenny Flanigan felt as if she were on a mission. She waited until she was in the car with Bailey and Connor and Tim Reed before telling them what Katy had said.

  “Are you kidding? We have a secret note to pass to Dayne Matthews?” Bailey was sitting in the seat beside Jenny, and she squealed, barely able to sit still.

  “I feel like we know him or something.” Connor buckled his seat belt, his voice almost as excited as his sister’s. “Maybe he’ll ask us to join him on the other side of the tape.”

  “Guys—” Jenny kept her tone even as she pulled out of the parking lot—“Katy wants us to act like fans. Yes, you’ve met him, and yes, he’s been to our house. But that doesn’t mean we know him.”

  “You mean, like ask him for his autograph, that kind of thing?” Tim was eager too, but being a teenager, he was playing it cooler than the others.

  “Right.” Jenny looked in the rearview mirror at Connor. “Katy doesn’t want anyone wondering about the note. We really have to pull it off, okay?”

  A round of okays filled the car, and from the backseat Tim whispered, “Wait’ll I tell the guys about this.”

  Jenny laughed. She had to admit it was fun, going to the on-location site for a Dayne Matthews film, with a mission to find the star and pass him a secret note. “Say whatever you want to your friends, guys. Just don’t mention the note. Katy was serious about that part.”

  They headed downtown and parked near the theater. It wasn’t much of a walk, and the closer they got to the area where they were filming, the harder it would’ve been to find an open spot. A light rain had fallen earlier, and the ground was damp.

  “I hope they’re still filming.” Bailey walked next to Tim, leading the way.

  “They will be.” Connor nodded. “I read it in the paper. They need a bunch of different weather shots to make it feel like a small Midwestern town.” He held his hand out and looked at the clouds overhead. “They’re probably glad it rained.”

  Another block, and the cordoned-off area came into view. The crew had left the area for a couple of days so they could shoot at a farmhouse they’d rented just outside town. Now they were back near the park to wrap up the shots that hadn’t come together before.

  Jenny felt in her pocket and made sure the note was still there. She was tempted to read it, but she wouldn’t. If Katy wanted her to know, she’d tell her later. For now she needed to focus on getting it into Dayne’s hands.

  “It isn’t crowded.” Tim glanced over his shoulder at Connor. “I bet we talk to him right off.”

  “I hope so.” Bailey squinted at the commotion in the center of the cordoned-off area. “He needs that note.”

  Jenny held her finger to her mouth. “Enough about the note. It’s our secret from here on out, all right?”

  They all nodded and followed Bailey and Tim to a spot along the police tape. It looked like the cast was in the middle of a break or a meeting. Dayne Matthews and Kelly Parker and two other actors were talking with the director.

  Bailey folded her arms in front of her. She kept her voice low, so only Jenny and the boys could hear her. “How’re we going to do this?”

  Jenny wasn’t sure. The rain had definitely thinned the number of spectators, but still they needed to get Dayne’s attention. She tapped Connor on the shoulder. “You’re the youngest.” She looked at Dayne and back at her son. “Let’s move a little closer, and then you call out his name.”

  Connor lowered his brow, nervous. “Then what?”

  “Here.” Jenny handed him a pad of paper and a pen. She’d found them in the car just after they parked. “This way it’ll seem like you really want an autograph.”

  “Okay.” Connor shrugged. “I really do want one, so I’m not faking or anything.”

  Jenny smiled at him. She loved Connor’s transparency.

  Bailey and Tim continued to lead the way, working past a few groups of damp, subdued, probably die-hard fans. At the first opening along the police tape, Bailey moved in and the others followed. The meeting with the director looked like it was breaking up. Dayne was saying something to Kelly Parker, as the two pulled away from the others.

  Jenny nodded to Connor and whispered, “Now!”

  Connor didn’t hesitate. He held up the pad of paper and pen. “Dayne! Over here!”

  The screaming fans were gone for the afternoon, so Dayne heard Connor right away. He turned and at first he looked like he might only wave, but then his eyes met Jenny’s and something changed in his expression. He leaned in and said something to Kelly, then pulled away and headed in their direction.

  He must’ve felt like Katy, afraid to do anything that might cause suspicion among the photographers still crouched along the police tape. He went first to the fans at the far end of the tape and worked his way toward them. It took five minutes before he reached out for Connor’s pad of paper. He wore the same smile he’d had for the other fans as he signed his autograph and handed the pad back to Connor, but his eyes told another story.

  No one was standing within hearing distance of them, and he looked at Jenny. “How is she?”

  Jenny pulled t
he note from her pocket, then reached for Connor’s pen. She handed both items to Dayne, along with a blank sheet of paper from the pad she’d given Connor. “She wanted me to give you this. Sign the second sheet so no one will know about the note.”

  He nodded, as if she’d asked him a question about the film. Then, in a manner that was as relaxed as it was practiced, he took the blank piece and scribbled his name across it. He handed it back to Jenny and said, “Where is she?”

  “Getting ready for a Bible study.”

  The photographers were watching them, but no one was taking pictures. They’d probably seen Dayne do this all week long, take a few minutes and tend to the fans who waited for him along the police tape.

  Bailey and Tim each took a piece of paper from the pad and handed them to Dayne. Jenny was proud of all of them. No one would’ve guessed they weren’t an ordinary group of fans.

  “This part’s not an act.” Bailey’s cheeks darkened, and she bounced a little. “Can you sign these too?”

  “Sure.” Dayne smiled at her. “You knew who I was the other day, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” She grinned at Jenny. “I told Katy it was obvious. Of course you were Dayne Matthews.”

  He kept smiling, kept playing the part of the doting actor, giving time and attention to his devotees. “What about you?” he asked Tim. “We haven’t met, but I’ve seen your work.”

  Tim looked stunned. “You have?”

  “Yep.” He signed the final sheet of paper and handed it to Tim. “You’re good, Tim Reed. Keep it real, okay?”

  “Okay.” Tim’s mouth hung open. He glanced from Bailey to Jenny and then back to Dayne. “Hey, thanks.”

  Dayne nodded to him; then he looked at Jenny again, and for the first time, his familiar smile faded. “Tell her something for me.” He smiled again, pretending to be engaged in a casual conversation.

  Jenny played along, shifting her position and cocking her head as if she had the most curious thing to ask him. “What should I tell her?”

  “Tell her I miss her.” With that, he made a subtle move of his hand, tucked the note from Katy into his pocket, and continued on to the next group of fans.