Summer
John blinked back his own tears as he watched the Jesus character delight in seeing his friends again, shaking hands and hugging those who crowded around him.
Much was in store for the Baxter family. He would need to decide how and when his relationship with Elaine would go to the next level, and they would experience the births of the two newest grandchildren. CKT might be packing up and leaving town, and besides that there was the drama playing out with Katy and Dayne. The tabloids were looking for any crack in their happy marriage.
All that, and the part that really mattered was this: the things they would go through soon and in the years ahead were only the starting line. The real story—the hope they all had—lay in what they’d just been reminded of onstage. Not the devastation of the Crucifixion or any other trial that might come their way.
But the reality of the Resurrection.
The familiar was all around her, like old friends gathered for a final farewell, and Katy couldn’t stop crying.
For the first time in what felt like a month, she was sitting next to Dayne without a single camera trained on her. The lights were dim and the show was coming to a close; the final performance of Godspell was under way. The final CKT show in Bloomington, Indiana.
It felt wonderful to be off the movie set, even for a few days. A week had passed since her dinner with the director and Dayne’s trip to Los Angeles. They’d talked about their experiences, how the cameras had caught things that were bound to give the wrong impression. Not just to the world but to each other. But no amount of talking seemed to ease the doubt caused by their time away from each other.
The horse training had wrapped up early that past week, and Rick was no longer making eyes at Katy across the arena. Even so, the work was long and draining. Katy and Dayne still hadn’t shot their scenes together. Stephen kept telling her how wonderful she was and that she lit up the camera.
Katy had no idea how. All she could think about was the very real strain between her and Dayne. She felt her marriage being pulled at from every side, and she seemed helpless to change that fact. She and Dayne had talked a few nights ago about Stephen’s offer for Katy to star in his upcoming film when But Then Again No was finished.
Dayne had looked at her as if she were crazy. “Are you kidding?”
“Of course not.” Anger poked pins at her. “What’re you saying, Dayne?” She was in his trailer, and the air was stuffy. “You think they gave me the part opposite you as a favor?”
“Of course not.” He threw his hands up and spun around, turning his back to her. “I’m trying to get us out of Hollywood—” he let loose a sarcastic laugh—“not start up a whole new career for my wife.”
“It’s not like I came looking for a career.” She took two steps and reached him. “Look at me, Dayne.”
He turned around, his eyes blazing. “But that’s what’s happening.” He shook his head, and this time his laugh sounded bitter. “I can’t believe you’re falling for this.”
“I’m not falling for it.” Her voice was raised, but she didn’t care. “CKT is closing down, so what am I supposed to do? Sit around the lake house waiting for you to shoot a movie in—where is it? Mexico?—with Randi Wells?”
He held his hands up. “I’ll pull out tomorrow, Katy. If that’ll make you happy, I’m done.”
“I’m not asking you to pull out. It’s just . . .” She clenched her teeth. “Why shouldn’t I make another movie as long as you are?”
“Because.” His face was red, his anger as strong as anything she’d seen from him. “This business will swallow us whole and spit us into the gutter, hating each other. I’ve seen it. Don’t kid yourself. It could happen.” He stormed past her toward the trailer door. As he reached for the door, he turned and looked at her, and his anger fell away. In its place was a fear Katy hadn’t seen before. “It’s already happening.” He hesitated. Then he pushed his way through the door before she could respond.
Though they’d had several chances since then, the topic hadn’t come up again. Without a resolution to the argument, the tension between them was nearly constant. Even if they had faked their way through a dinner at the Baxter house and an afternoon picnic at the lake with Kari’s and Ashley’s families.
Katy dabbed a tissue beneath one eye and then the other. The tension between Dayne and her, and now this—the finality surrounding her.
The last scene in Godspell was winding down, and Katy’s throat was thick with emotion. Here, in the theater where she’d first seen Dayne Matthews, she’d have to tell the kids and parents that it was all over; the whole wonderful ride had come to an end. But her tears weren’t for the kids of CKT only—they were for her marriage, her relationship with Dayne.
Doing the reality show had been a mistake. She knew that now. But there was no turning back, no changing the way things had become complicated and strained. Her shoulders shook a little, and she could feel Dayne watching her. So why didn’t he reach out and take her hand? Was he that upset with her, that angry over her desire to do another movie? If so, then she’d drop the idea. She could stay at home and stare at the walls if it meant finding their way back to how things used to be.
Onstage, a coffin was surrounded by weeping kids, their acting at an all-time professional level. Then, suddenly, the box collapsed, showing the entire theater that there was nothing inside. The coffin was empty.
A gasp came from the actors, and then Tim Reed came running down the aisle to the stage. He held out his hands, and the kids who had been crying only moments earlier started laughing, exclaiming over the goodness of God.
God . . . we need that here today. Please give me the strength to say what has to be said. But more than that, fix whatever’s wrong with me and Dayne. Katy dried her cheeks with the backs of her hands and reached into her purse for another tissue. Fear took over where sorrow had just resided. In its wake, her tears stopped suddenly. In fifteen minutes she would be making an announcement she’d never planned to make.
And why wouldn’t Dayne take her hand?
The show ended and the houselights came up. Everyone in attendance was on their feet, giving the kids and Rhonda and Chad the ovation they deserved.
Katy looked around, and the memories surrounded her. The faces in the crowd had shared with her in so many productions, so many parent committees and opening nights. So many lasts, like this one.
I want this, Lord . . . not another movie. Not the tension between me and Dayne. How did everything get so bad? She wanted an answer, wanted the Lord to appear before her and tell her what to do. Should Dayne pull out of his contract? Were the next few months going to destroy the love they’d worked so hard to find?
An hour passed while Rhonda and Chad handed out awards to the cast. The top honor—the Rose Award—went to Tim Reed. The trophy was given to the student actor who most exemplified Christ during the run of the show.
“In this case,” Rhonda told them, “Tim not only exemplified Christ; he played Him. Tim took everything we asked him to do and added something extra every time.”
The kids—who were easily excited anyway—stood up to honor Tim.
The winner of the Rose Award was always allowed to say a few words. Tim kept his message short and to the point. “Without CKT—” he looked straight at Katy—“I’d be some lost kid wondering what to do next. CKT has given me a place to use my gifts and shine for God at the same time.” His smile was for her alone. “If I had my way, I would never be too old for CKT.”
Katy could hardly draw a breath. Did he know what was coming? Or was he only feeling nostalgic about the fact that according to CKT guidelines, he had just one more year with the group?
The award ceremony wrapped up, and the kids presented Rhonda and Chad with a gift certificate for dinner and tickets to a musical in Indianapolis. As sad as the situation was, Katy smiled at her friend, silently wishing her all the happiness possible. Chad was returning to Cleveland later this summer, when the CKT camps were finished.
br /> Rhonda had talked to Katy last night after the show. “I’m going with him.” She was beaming, her eyes full of the sort of love and hope that Katy had seen somewhere before. “I’ll live with the area coordinator in Cleveland, and Chad and I will codirect next year’s shows.”
Katy already knew the answer, so what she said next was more a statement than a question. “You’re in love with him.”
“I am.” She smiled, then lowered her voice. “He’s the one I’ve been praying for all my life. I can sense it.”
Katy hugged her friend. No matter what trouble her own relationship was in, she was consumed with joy for Rhonda. “I’m so glad. You deserve this.”
Rhonda asked her about the movie. “I mean, it must be wonderful, being married to Dayne and working with him on the set.” Her eyes shone, more because she kept glancing at Chad across the room. She focused on Katy. “Is it just the best?”
The moment wasn’t right for true confessions. Katy smiled and hid her breaking heart. “It’s great.”
One of the kids had called Rhonda, and she gave Katy a hasty good-bye.
Now—watching Rhonda and Chad onstage together—Katy quietly celebrated for her friend. She hadn’t only found love; she’d found a normal love. Regular love. The beautiful kind of love that didn’t draw attention from the tabloids. A love where no one on earth would ever wish it to fail. Chad took Rhonda’s hand, and as they returned to their seats, the kids cheered again.
Bethany was taking the stage, and already she had tears in her eyes.
Here we go, Katy thought. Next to her, Dayne finally worked his fingers between hers. He kissed the top of her head and gave her hand a squeeze. He whispered, “You can do this.”
She studied his eyes. Do what? she wanted to ask. Tell the CKT families that the drama company was closing down? Or move on to a movie career without him? Somehow she had a feeling his words held a greater meaning.
“Most of you know that Katy and Dayne are with us this afternoon.” Bethany glanced in their direction.
Katy found a subdued smile, and Dayne did the same.
The kids went crazy, cheering and clapping and grinning at the two of them.
When the noise died down, Bethany continued. Her voice was choked by sorrow. “Katy has some news for us. She wanted to tell you herself.”
Katy released Dayne’s hand and stood. It occurred to her that half the people in the audience probably thought her news had something to do with her coming back to direct the next show. Little did they know. She took a breath and walked up the stairs toward Bethany.
They hugged each other, and Bethany whispered, “I’m sorry. I wish there were another way.” She handed the microphone to Katy.
“I know.” Katy smiled at the woman she’d learned so much from, the woman without whom CKT never would’ve come to the area in the first place. She watched Bethany return to the audience. Then, for the first time since the news had been final, she looked into the faces of her three hundred friends, people who had been like family to her since she moved to Bloomington. “First, a huge congratulations to Rhonda and Chad and all the kids. Godspell was fantastic.”
The kids erupted into more applause and cheers. Katy didn’t cut them short. After this there would be few opportunities for the kids of CKT to celebrate. She kept her eyes away from Dayne. One problem at a time, God. . . . That’s all I can handle. Her knees felt weak, and she gripped the microphone a little more tightly.
When the enthusiasm died down, Katy scanned the audience. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good.”
A few whispers rose from the crowd, but then a hush fell over the kids and their families.
Katy had rehearsed this talk on the private jet the entire flight from Santa Fe to Bloomington. The only way that made any sense was to tell them quickly, in as straightforward a manner as possible.
She looked at Rhonda. “For some time now, the owners of the theater have been thinking about selling. Apparently there’s interest from a number of developers who want to . . . build high-rise condos here instead.”
Shock filled the faces of a number of people. A quiet gasp worked its way around the theater.
Katy caught Tim Reed’s eyes. They screamed sorrow and anger and maybe even betrayal. Not toward her but toward whoever might dare sell their theater out from beneath them. She held his eyes. “We found out that the owners of the theater have made up their mind. Tomorrow they’re putting up a For Sale sign.”
The entire room reacted. Some of them put their hands over their mouths and others covered their faces. Bailey and a few of the older girls sitting up front put their arms around one another. They had tears in their eyes.
Katy turned her attention to Bethany, and a sad smile tugged at her lips. “Bethany and the other CKT board members have done everything possible to find a new theater for you. Anything available would only lease us space for a night or a weekend and so—” Her voice cracked.
Everything was wrong with the scene playing out. This was where someone was supposed to yell, “Cut!” and they’d regroup and think how they could write a different ending. The kind of ending that made people want to stay and watch the show again. Only this time it wasn’t an act or a movie; it was real. After investing so much of her life, her soul, in the kids and families before her, Katy had no choice but to tell them it was over.
Tears blurred her vision, and she looked down. For a moment, she lowered the microphone. She was still gathering her strength, trying to imagine how she might say the next bit, when she heard footsteps and felt Dayne beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders and steadied her. He reached for the microphone, and the gesture touched her deeply. He still cared about her. No matter what tension the movie had caused between them, she could never doubt his feelings for her.
But these were her kids; the program and families had looked to her and no one else. She was the only one who could deliver this message. She leaned into Dayne and held the microphone up again.
Everyone in the audience looked frozen, bracing themselves for whatever was coming.
“Without a theater, we can’t have CKT in Bloomington.” Katy wondered if they could hear her heart pounding over the PA system. She had taught her kids not to break the fourth wall, a way of looking out across the audience without actually seeing them. She used the technique now as she finished. “And so we’ve made a decision we never wanted to make. After the summer camp program, CKT will close down in this area.” She paused. “Rhonda will be moving to Cleveland to help with CKT there.”
Tears spilled onto her cheeks. She allowed herself to focus on the faces once more, and again her gaze fell on Tim Reed. “I’m sorry.” Her words were a tortured whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
The microphone fell to her side, and she hung her head. As many times as she’d thought about making this speech, she’d never once imagined the reaction she might get. And now she wondered if they’d quietly leave the building or demand for something to be done.
She buried her face in Dayne’s chest and fell against him. How could it be over? And how come she and Dayne were letting it happen? There had to be something they could do for their marriage and for the kids before them. She heard the sound of people moving, heard the families and kids standing. They’re leaving, she told herself. They blame me for not fighting harder to keep CKT, for selling out to Hollywood. And now they have nothing left to say.
Her thoughts were all but strangling her when she felt the first hand on her shoulder. Then another and another. She opened her eyes and turned out of Dayne’s embrace. Quietly and with tears on many of their faces, the men and women and kids of the CKT family were making their way up to the stage, surrounding her and Dayne.
They weren’t going to abandon her, not now and not ever. She felt the sobs gather in her heart, where she could do nothing to hold them back. And still her friends kept coming.
When the stage was full, they gathered just below it, and when everyone was close, when they
were all holding hands or reaching out to Katy and Dayne, Tim Reed began to pray. “God, we shouldn’t really be surprised. Nothing worthwhile comes without a fight.” His voice was clear and strong, but Katy looked at him. His cheeks were as wet as most of the other kids’. “We’ve been through hard times before, and we’ll get through this.” His voice grew tight. “We need a theater, God. Please . . . find us a place where we can act. We need CKT in this community.”
A few other kids prayed. One girl spoke through a series of sobs. “I was the kid everyone picked on at school. I had made up my mind that life wasn’t worth living.” She took a few quick breaths. “I wanted to end it all.” She sniffed. “I even had a plan . . . and then someone invited me . . . here.”
Katy’s eyes were still open. Her heart ached for the girl. She had known CKT was important to the young actress, but none of them had known that God had used the drama group to save her life.
One after another kids prayed, begging God for another chance, a way to keep the program going.
When finally there was only the sound of sniffling and quiet, stifled sobs, a few of the kids began to sing. “‘Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father, there is no shadow of turning with Thee. . . .’”
This was where the victory lay; Katy could feel it deep inside her. They could tear down the theater and stop them from having productions, but no one could take away the hope they had in Christ, the bond they shared.
Dayne tightened his hold on Katy, and he added his voice.
Others joined in, all of them stubbornly clinging to faith in a God who would provide for all their needs, a God whose mercies were new every morning—every single morning.
No matter how dark the night before them.
Summer arrived early in Bloomington and never let up. Ashley thrived in the warmer weather, holding close the feeling of newness all around her. The blue skies and fresh-cut grass and life bloomed bold and vibrant everywhere she looked. Even in the mirror. She was carrying this baby lower than her other two, and despite lingering shadows of doubt, the child was constantly active. Ashley was more in tune with this baby, more aware of when she napped and when she was active.