Someday

  She and Dayne talked every few days, but their conversations were always short. Early on, he’d told her that he had a suspicion about who the guy in the photo might actually be.

  “Come on, Dayne.” She didn’t raise her voice. It was too late for that. “Who else could it be?”

  He told her he’d had an idea, but then that fell through. “So maybe it’s a stuntman or a lighting guy.” His tone pleaded with her. “It wasn’t me; that’s all I know.”

  In the weeks since then, the magazines had taken the story and run with it. There were reports of partying on the set, beer flowing freely, and a romance between Dayne and Randi that couldn’t be denied. One week a popular tabloid headline took Dayne’s approach. “Dayne Doesn’t Remember Affair!” it shouted in big, bold letters. Katy had read the article late at night in the privacy of her hotel room.

  “So much drinking and partying is happening on the set of Dayne’s current film,” the story started out, “that Dayne doesn’t remember his wild affair with costar Randi Wells!”

  Dayne denied that also. He hadn’t drunk anything on the set, and he’d definitely never acted without knowing what he was doing. “We need to talk, Katy. Let me fly there so we can have a day together. Please.”

  “No.” Katy didn’t want to talk about the affair here in London. The tabloids would go wild over the idea of a confrontation on the set of Katy’s film. “It can wait. We don’t need to make any decisions yet.”

  In that way, she was able to keep him from flying out to see her. They were both busy, both shaken by the events surrounding them. The best choice was to lie low, finish their films, and return to Bloomington. There, on the deck of their lake house, they could talk about what the future held.

  And what it didn’t hold.

  She heard a group of people walk past her trailer, their conversation loud, their laughter bright and cheerful. Katy moved to the small mirror on the wall near the trailer door. How long had it been since she’d laughed? She thought about what day it was, and she knew the answer.

  Stephen had talked to her several times about taking a break, leaving for a few days, and working things out with Dayne.

  But she had refused the offer. “What would it help?”

  “I don’t know.” Stephen seemed frustrated with the changes in his leading lady. “He’s telling you he didn’t do it. Maybe you should hear him out face-to-face.”

  Even Ian Walters encouraged her to go. But she couldn’t leave the set now, not when she was a part of nearly every major scene in the film. Besides, her personal life hadn’t spilled over into the movie more than a couple of times.

  Right after she first saw the photo of Dayne and Randi, Katy had struggled with getting back into character.

  Stephen had pulled her aside and explained her choices. “Either you take a break and get some help, or you find the strength to make this your best performance yet.”

  The story was about a woman battling depression, whose sorrow was so great it nearly sent her over the edge. Stephen had a point. If Katy could transfer what she was feeling about Dayne to the character she was playing, then not only would she give a strong performance, but she could delay dealing with her real life until she and Dayne could be together again.

  When they would sort through the pieces of their broken marriage and figure out a way to move on alone . . . in their separate lives.

  Katy touched the dark circles under her eyes. No matter what the future held, the pain in her heart was doing the very thing Stephen had hoped it might do. It was working for the film. She not only owned the part, she lived it. Breathed it. With her limited sleep and torturous alone moments, she even looked the part.

  Stephen had stopped talking to her about taking a break. If Katy wanted to work through her pain and depression by taking it out on the set in fourteen-hour workdays, so be it. Her director had told her he was there for her if she needed anything. But he wasn’t where Katy was finding the strength to make it through each day.

  She was finding that in her phone calls home to Jenny and to her sister-in-law Ashley. Most of all she was finding it in her well-loved, much-read Bible.

  As it turned out, a few members of the cast were interested in Scripture and what it taught about life and death and living right. Katy could hardly believe it, but three times a week before the first shots of the day were filmed, the group met in her trailer to study God’s Word. Since a few of them had never been exposed to Scripture, Katy started where she herself started anytime she wanted to reconnect with God. In John chapter 1. So while her heart was ripped in a hundred unrecognizable pieces, her soul rejoiced at the changes happening in the people around her.

  “There’s something about you I haven’t seen before,” one of her female costars told her after the first Bible study. “Whatever it is, I want it too. The thing that makes you beautiful isn’t something you can buy on Rodeo Drive or win at the Academy Awards.”

  The compliment had touched Katy and given her purpose. God was carrying her through the pain and confusion, holding her in His arms until she and Dayne could talk in person about their failed marriage. Not only was the Lord holding her up, but He was using her to bring others to Himself. As much as she hurt, she couldn’t ask for more than that.

  She was about to step out of her trailer when her cell phone rang. It was well after midnight in Mexico, but still she had a feeling it was Dayne. As she reached for the phone, she saw his name in the caller ID window. Most of the time she took his calls. Partly because she wanted to keep the communication between them open so they wouldn’t feel like complete strangers when they met again in Bloomington.

  And partly because she missed him with every breath.

  Now, though, she stared at her phone, and then, with it still ringing, she walked out of her trailer and back to the set. She still loved Dayne. With everything she had, she loved him. But he was lying to himself and lying to her, and if this was what it meant to be married to Dayne Matthews, Katy couldn’t take it.

  She couldn’t spend a lifetime like this.

  No, she would only talk to him every day or so, and eventually—when December was almost over—they would finish filming and return home. Katy would have some time alone, because after Dayne was finished in Cabo, the cast and crew needed a few weeks in LA to wrap things up. That was fine with Katy. She would continue her Bible study, searching for wisdom and hope and a reason to go on. She would beg God for the grace to forgive Dayne and the wisdom to know how to move on from here.

  But she was very sure of one thing. This was her last movie. When she was finished filming, she would return to her home in Bloomington, where she would spend the rest of her days.

  With or without Dayne.

  Dayne snapped his cell phone shut and slid it back into his jeans pocket. “No answer.” He planted his elbows on the small wooden kitchen table and stared at his friend Bob. With the death of Randi’s mother, the cast and crew had been given a few days off. Dayne had asked Katy if he could fly to London and spend his break with her.

  But she’d turned him down. “I’m busy, Dayne. We’re filming early morning till late at night. The talking can wait until we’re together.”

  So Dayne had done the only other thing he knew to do. He’d come here, to Bob Asher’s house in Mexico City, where a few years ago he’d given his heart and soul to God.

  “What was her attitude last time you talked?” Bob sat across from him, his expression colored with deep concern.

  “Same as it’s been.” Dayne made a fist and leaned his forehead against it. “She doesn’t come right out and call me a liar, but she’s different.” He let his hand fall to the table and looked at Bob again. “It’s like she’s resigned herself, like she’s already decided we’re finished.”

  Bob sat a little straighter and seemed to concentrate, as if he had something sensitive he wanted to bring up. “Tell me about the picture again.”

  They hadn’t mentioned the tabloids once since he sh
owed up at Bob’s house. Dayne hated thinking about the cover photo, let alone talking about it. He realized how bad the circumstances looked and how much he seemed to be the man in the picture. Talking about it only brought to life the fact that even the people closest to him—his wife, his father, and his friend—doubted him.

  Dayne let loose a shaky sigh. “It was taken at night, so at first I thought about who would’ve been off with Randi after dark.” He held his hands out, palms up. He hadn’t told anyone about his initial suspicion, but maybe it was time. “The only person I could think of was my own brother, Luke.”

  “Luke was in Cabo?”

  “Yes.” Dayne allowed a sad laugh. “No one really knows that but the people on the set. And here’s the thing. Luke and Randi did take a walk alone on the beach the night he was there.”

  “Well then . . .” Bob’s eyes shone with new understanding. “Maybe that’s the answer.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Dayne pictured the way Randi had looked when he brought up the possibility a few days after the photo ran. “I talked to Randi about it, and she was horrified. ‘Absolutely not,’ she told me. She said Luke wasn’t the one she wanted.” Guilt crept into his tone. Somehow her attraction to him had to be his fault, one way or another. “She wanted me; that’s what she said. The guy wasn’t Luke.”

  “So you believe her? That’s that?”

  “No, I called my brother. I asked him if anything happened on the beach that night.” Dayne could still hear Luke’s sincerity. “He promised me it wasn’t him.”

  “Hmmm.” Bob studied the table for a few seconds, as if he was trying to get a handle on the possibilities. “And you’ve been through the rest of the cast and crew?”

  “There’s nearly a hundred people working on the set.” Dayne sat back in his chair. “Caterers, security, camera guys. I’ve begged God for the answer and talked to a few who seem a little more friendly with Randi.” He clenched his jaw. “The thing is, she knows the truth and she won’t talk.”

  Bob shook his head. “I can’t imagine working with her every day since then.”

  “Yeah.” Dayne stood and walked toward the window of the Ashers’ small house. There were still lights on along the busy street. Life going on as it did in Mexico City, where celebrity was not the all-consuming force it was back home. He raked his fingers through his hair, his back to Bob. “Before this break, she pulled me aside. Told me she’s sorry. She was drunk, and she honestly doesn’t remember.” His sad laugh rang through the room. “She even had the nerve to ask me, ‘Dayne, are you sure it wasn’t you?’”

  “And you . . . you weren’t drinking, right?” Bob sounded hesitant, as if he didn’t want to accuse Dayne of any wrongdoing. But the facts mattered greatly to the story.

  “No.” Dayne turned and looked at his friend again. “I wouldn’t dare have a beer on a set with Randi Wells. Someone would take a picture, and there’d be the proof.” He pretended to paint a headline in the space in front of him. “‘Dayne Matthews Boozes It up on the Beach!’” He returned slowly to the table and gripped the back of his chair. “The thing is, someone kissed her. Someone stood on that beach and made out with Randi Wells.” Again he struggled with the rage inside him. “Whoever he is, he’s letting me take the fall.” He sat down, defeated. “Me and Katy.”

  Bob was about to say something else when Dayne’s phone, still sitting on the kitchen table, vibrated to life. Like always, the song from Robin Hood rang out, a painful reminder of all Dayne had at stake. Maybe it was Katy. Maybe she’d thought things through and realized he couldn’t possibly have started an affair with Randi. He was far too in love with Katy for anything of the sort.

  He reached for the phone, glanced at the caller ID window, and just as quickly hit the silence button on the side and dropped it back onto the table.

  “Who is it?” Bob had his arms crossed, his face still pensive. He’d promised Dayne he would help clear up the situation if at all possible, but so far they were getting nowhere.

  Dayne felt tainted even saying her name. “Randi. Naturally. Her timing is always like that.”

  A shadow fell over Bob’s face. “She’s home for her mom’s funeral, right?”

  “That’s why we got the break.”

  “And she calls you?” Bob raised his brow. “That’s not good. I mean, buddy, that woman has it out for you.”

  “I know. If I can just finish up the film and get back home . . . maybe when Katy sees me in person, she’ll understand I’m telling the truth.” Dayne rested his arms on the table and leaned forward, too battered to continue the conversation. Why would Randi call him? Wasn’t it enough that they had constant contact on the set? He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested, and now . . . now what was Bob supposed to think?

  Katy hadn’t accused him of lying, but she hadn’t talked to him about the incident either. Her lifeless tone and short sentences told him what her words did not. The last time they talked, she’d admitted that her feelings for him had changed.

  “Of course they have,” she’d told him. She sounded tired constantly, as if she didn’t have the energy to fight the battle surrounding them. “I guess I’m rethinking whether I want this life, every transgression and misstep plastered over the tabloids.”

  “That’s not fair. You knew what you were getting into.” Dayne had tried not to sound desperate, but that’s usually where he wound up by the end of their conversations. “What about our walk on the beach that night? Faith and each other, remember?”

  “Things changed. What else can I say?”

  So, no . . . she didn’t come out and accuse him of lying. She didn’t need to. Her attitude and responses told him everything he needed to know. Whenever he pressed her, when he asked her directly whether she believed him or not, she always answered the same way. “We’ll talk about it in person. Let’s get our movies finished first.”

  Now Dayne was practically crazy with fear over what Katy was planning and how differently she actually felt about him and their marriage. He pushed himself back from the table and got a glass of water. He poured one for Bob too.

  When he returned to his chair, he met Bob’s eyes and saw a knowing that was familiar with his friend. As if Bob finally had a game plan that might make a difference for Dayne.

  “Your marriage is on the rocks, Dayne. You see that.”

  There was no need to respond. Dayne only let his gaze fall to his clenched fists there on the tabletop. Moments like this he wondered if he was having some kind of wild nightmare and at any moment he might wake up to find that he and Katy were happily in love, doing their separate jobs and counting down the days until they could be together. “Yes . . . my marriage is on the rocks.” He felt the pain of his words with every syllable. “No argument here.”

  “Then now’s the time.” A new energy filled Bob’s voice. “You have to do whatever you can, whatever it takes to restore things with Katy.”

  “I need a miracle.”

  “Good!” Bob reached across the table and covered Dayne’s hand with his own. “Because we serve a God who is in the business of making miracles happen. Your situation looked so grim that I was starting to forget that.”

  Dayne wasn’t sure whether to allow a glimmer of hope or feel further defeated that even Bob Asher—his friend of unending faith—thought the situation looked grim. He looked up and saw the determination in Bob’s face. Almost in response, Dayne felt a fight rising in him as well. “‘With God all things are possible,’ right? Isn’t that what you taught me?”

  “Right. But it didn’t come from me.” Bob was actually smiling now. “It came from the Bible. That means it’s a promise.”

  They talked a few minutes more, and then Bob prayed. He asked God to move heaven and earth on behalf of Dayne’s marriage, and he begged that the truth—the full and complete truth—would become miraculously known. That lies would cease, and webs of deception would be broken—wherever they existed.

  A pow
er came over the room, power and peace and a certain sense that God was moving, that the prayers being lifted in this very place would not go unanswered. That even now, God Almighty had a good plan for Dayne and Katy.

  Dayne prayed next, choking out the words through a throat tight with hope and sadness. “Please give me a sign, Lord. Show me the truth and let it become clear to everyone involved.” He felt a sob lodge in his chest, but he worked past it. “I can’t lose Katy. She’s . . . she’s everything to me.”

  His cell phone began to ring again as he uttered the final words. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Dread hovered in the balance as he looked at the caller ID. The name in the window caused Dayne to hesitate. He looked at Bob as he moved to open the phone, and even before he said hello, a strange understanding came over him. Maybe this call would contain the answer he’d been looking for. The call wasn’t from Randi, and it wasn’t from Katy, either.

  The call was from his brother, Luke.

  Luke had wandered from one side of Times Square to the other, moving aimlessly north along Broadway and then south again on the other side of the street. He felt terrible about what he’d done, and now he’d heard from Randi. She wanted to break things off immediately.

  “My parents wanted one thing from me,” she told him. “I have to try to find it. That means this is the last time you’ll hear from me.”

  So Randi had found the strength to move on, but still neither she nor Luke had reached Dayne with the truth. He hadn’t even tried. Luke stuffed his hands in his pockets to ward off the chill in the air. The city had received its first snowfall a week ago, and now a bitter cold moved in between the high-rises that made up the Theater District.

  He’d seen another play tonight—Mary Poppins—with more free tickets from the office. But this time he didn’t take Sandy or any of the others. If they wanted tickets, they could make their own plans. He needed to be alone, needed to contemplate his life and his future without the temptations he usually surrounded himself with.