When she was gone, Landon helped Ashley up and cradled her head against his chest.
“Landon, what’s happening?” Her heart raced at double its normal rhythm. “Did you see anything?”
“No. She looked . . .” His mouth sounded dry, his words clipped and filled with fear. “She looked beautiful.”
Ashley clung to him, nodding. She wanted desperately to agree with him. “She did, didn’t she? Her profile was perfect.”
“Maybe the doctor’s just being cautious.” Landon stepped back so she could get dressed.
She didn’t answer, didn’t say anything that could shatter the hope his words had placed between them. That was it. Dr. McDaniel was just being cautious. Of course. The AFP test had been high, after all. Now the doctor had to tell them the possibilities. That even with a normal ultrasound, there was still a chance of some rare problem. And that was her job, to tell them about the possibilities.
But when Ashley was back in her clothes, she didn’t make a move for the doctor’s office. Instead she turned to Landon and fell into his embrace. As long as she stayed here in his arms, as long as she didn’t leave this room, they could hang on to everything that had seemed certain just moments ago.
“We’re having a daughter.” There were tears in her eyes, but she smiled despite them.
“She’ll have your eyes.”
She kissed him, and the wetness on her cheeks spread to his. “And your heart.”
They stayed that way for what felt like ten minutes, clinging to each other and to every hope and dream they shared for their daughter. Because the moment they let go, they’d have to take the next steps beyond the examination room door. The doctor would either give them news that would confirm the results they’d seen with their own eyes, that their little girl was whole and healthy, or she would give them the results they dreaded.
Results that could change their lives forever.
Dayne couldn’t shake the bad feeling.
He was hanging another of Ashley’s paintings in the dining room of the lake house, and Katy was in the bedroom on the phone with her mother. Everything about their lives was exactly where he’d always dreamed it might be. They’d returned from their honeymoon, stopping by the Chicago retirement home where Katy’s parents lived, and after a few days they’d flown to Indiana to settle into the house on Lake Monroe. They had three weeks before they needed to be in Malibu for the movie.
But Then Again No would begin with meetings and interviews in Los Angeles, after which Stephen Petrel, the director, had made some changes. Instead of starting the project in Los Angeles, the shoot had been moved so that most of the filming would take place in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Only the last few weeks would happen in LA. Stephen wanted more than strong acting. He wanted strong cinematography. He’d moved the location shots because he was convinced that areas outside Santa Fe would bring more emotion to the film.
Dayne picked up a nail and positioned it at the center of the wall. What could be better? He and his new bride, starring in a film with a director whose passion for art was unequaled? Dayne grabbed the hammer and knocked the nail firmly into place. Eventually he wanted to have Ashley’s artwork framed to match the rugged wooden beams in the dining room. But for now a simple nail would hold up the canvas.
The painting was of a bride and groom standing barefoot on Malibu beach. Ashley had given it to them when they returned home from the Bahamas.
“Your wedding present,” she’d told him.
Today she and Landon would find out if they were having a girl or a boy, so by tonight there’d be more good news to celebrate.
Every area of his life was better than ever, so why the sense of doom, the feeling that wouldn’t leave ever since they returned home? He paused and the answer became clear. Maybe it had nothing to do with being back in Bloomington but more with the commitment they’d made to the reality show.
Dayne balanced the painting on the nail and stood back. Perfectly centered. He took the box of nails and the hammer and returned them to a shelf in the laundry room. A few of the leaders from Christian Kids Theater were coming over this afternoon for a meeting. Things didn’t look good for CKT, and today, among other things, they’d get a report on the sale of the downtown theater.
He entered the dining room, and a breeze filtered through the screen door. It smelled of fresh grass and new life, and it called him outside. He slipped on his flip-flops and went out to the railing at the edge of the back deck. The early afternoon sunlight cast diamonds across Lake Monroe.
Dayne breathed in, and suddenly a memory flashed in his mind. The way he’d felt lying in the hospital bed after coming out of his coma. He wasn’t sure he’d ever walk again, let alone find his way to a place like this, a life like this. God had given Katy and him the impossible, so why put everything about their future up for grabs? Why place their personal lives on a platter for the world to gawk at—even if the show wanted only what they could capture on the set?
A pair of geese flew by, flapping hard and honking. In the distance, from somewhere down the hill near the shore, came the sound of a couple of battling frogs.
Dayne closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. This was what he wanted, nothing more. To live here with Katy and figure out a solution for her theater group. They should call his agent and tell him to forget it. Forget the film and the next one after that and what was left of his contract.
He was home, and he wanted to stay here.
The screen door squeaked behind him. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Katy. “How’s your mother?”
“Worse.” She frowned. “Dad too. The retirement home moved them both to the nursing wing.”
He turned and rested his back on the railing. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Katy slipped her hands around his waist. “I’m glad we spent some time with them.”
“We can go again.” He studied her. “Whenever you want.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, and some of the sadness lifted from her eyes. “They loved you.”
He grinned. Her parents were simple people, the kind that weren’t ruffled by celebrity.
“They liked you because you married me, not because you’re Dayne Matthews.”
“I could tell.” He gazed at the sky over their log house. “Another gorgeous spring day.”
Katy relaxed into his arms. “Makes me wanna be out on the lake.”
“You and me and a rowboat. Floating along the shoreline.”
“Mmmm.” She looked deep into his eyes. “Sounds perfect.”
Dayne paused, letting his senses fill with her presence. “So tell me once more why we’re leaving in three weeks?”
She took a half step back, and a crooked grin played on her mouth. “Not that again.”
“Well . . .” He exhaled hard and turned to face the water. He felt her snuggle in beside him. “That’s all I keep asking myself. Why are we leaving if this is home?”
“Your word, for one thing.” Katy gave him a slight bump with her hip. “The studio would sue you if you broke the contract. You know that.”
Dayne lifted his chin. The breeze washed over his face, clearing his mind and some of the tension he’d been feeling. She was right. His contract left no room for escape, and Stephen Petrel had already spent a million dollars in preproduction on the film. God wouldn’t want Dayne to bail out now. To do so would be wrong and illegal.
“You’re worried about the reality show again.” It wasn’t a question. Katy knew him well. Because he’d let her farther into his heart than he’d ever let anyone.
“Remind me again—” he looked at her—“what good could come from it.”
“We’ll basically be an open book—at least professionally.” She’d recited the list to him several times a day since they’d been home. “The paparazzi won’t have a reason to chase us, because we’ll be giving them exactly what they want.”
Dayne looked out at the water again. The contract with the reality sh
ow acknowledged that the cameramen capturing their relationship on the set also worked for a few of the tabloids. The images caught could be used in magazines leading up to the release of the show—as prepublicity. So in that sense, Katy was right.
He dropped his voice a notch, more pensive than before. “And you think that’ll do the trick, take away their desire to chase us?”
“Dayne, we’ve been over this.” Katy put her hand on his shoulder and massaged the muscles at the base of his neck. “Don’t you think so? I mean, if you’re this worried, maybe we should change our mind.”
He thought about that. The problem was, they could never exactly predict the whims of the paparazzi. Sure, they’d be on the set, spending ten or twelve hours a day with Katy and him. It made sense that they might’ve had enough after that, that they’d head for their hotels or the bars or wherever they wanted to go when the day’s work was finished.
But maybe it would only make them more determined to see what happened in Katy and Dayne’s world after the cameras stopped rolling for the day. There was no way to tell until they were smack in the middle of the action. “We won’t know until we get started.”
“It makes sense though, right? If we give them photo ops all day long, they’re bound to be bored of us by nightfall.”
“I hope so.” He angled his waist into the deck railing and faced her. “Sorry.”
“For what?” Katy must’ve sensed that he was letting go of the issue, because there was the hint of teasing in her eyes.
“For being such a downer.”
“You’re worried.” She swayed slightly with him. “After all you’ve been through, that only makes sense.”
“All we’ve been through.” Dayne kissed her forehead. “I couldn’t have gone through a day of it without you.”
For a little while they said nothing, just looked at each other.
“They’ll write a hundred different lies.” Katy brushed her cheek against his. “We have to stay strong, not let them get to us.”
“We won’t.” His heart was growing light, the way it always did when she was in his arms. He wasn’t worried about the dirt, though she was right—the paparazzi would be relentless with wrong information, whatever they could make up. But the love he shared with Katy wasn’t like other Hollywood relationships. Tabloid headlines couldn’t touch what they had together. Dayne’s fears centered around the danger, the idea that somehow the reality show wouldn’t satiate the paparazzi’s interest—it would fan it into hot, searing flames.
He exhaled. Either way, the movie was weeks away.
“Know what we should do?” Katy batted her eyelashes at him. She peered over the deck railing and down toward the rocky path that led to the water.
“Stay here forever?”
She wagged her finger at him. “No, today. After the CKT meeting.”
“What?” Dayne moved in to kiss her.
“Listen.” She giggled and slipped away. “We should hike down to the water and watch the sunset from that rock, the big one at the end of the trail.”
He gave her his best suggestive look, the one he’d used in a dozen different films. “That could be interesting.”
She tilted her head back and laughed. “Dayne Matthews, that’s one thing we never have to worry about. Whatever else happens, life with you will definitely be interesting.”
The doorbell rang just as Dayne was making a promise to himself. He wasn’t going to waste another hour of this precious time with Katy worrying about what was coming. She was his wife, his best friend. This wasn’t the time to live in fear over what might happen. It was a time to do what he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing.
Celebrating every minute with the woman he loved.
Katy took a few steps toward the door, turned, and gave Dayne a quick kiss. “That’s for the one that got away,” she whispered.
The doorbell rang a second time, and she hurried across the deck and into the house. This was the first time she’d meet Chad Jennings, the new assistant director just in from Cleveland. The leaders of CKT had been talking about him for weeks. She quickened her pace. “Coming!”
Breathless, she answered the door and found CKT area coordinator Bethany Allen, with Rhonda Sanders and Chad, on the front porch. Dayne joined them near the entryway, and the group moved into the living room.
Chad fell into place beside Katy. “I’ve heard so much about you, your work with the kids. I hear it’s a very talented group.”
“It is. You’ll love directing them.” Katy studied him. He wasn’t quite six feet tall and had dark hair with a tanned complexion that made him handsome in a rugged sort of way. More than that, he had kind, compassionate eyes, eyes that quietly spoke of a faith tested and true. Katy felt an immediate connection with him.
“Rhonda and I’ve been meeting nearly every day.” He smiled. “We have a lot of ideas.”
“Good.” Katy felt a sudden lump in her throat. No matter how much she liked this new director, he was here for one reason. Because Katy was no longer directing CKT—at least not for now. She took a seat next to Dayne and felt her heart pound out an erratic rhythm. Whatever lay ahead, the changes were going to hurt more than she’d let herself believe.
Bethany waited until everyone was seated. “Let’s pray before we start.”
Peace filled Katy and calmed her. God already had the answers. He knew what was coming and whether CKT’s time in Bloomington was ending. He knew the way through it, the way beyond it. She slid closer to Dayne and linked her arm through his while Bethany prayed.
It wasn’t until they finished praying and Bethany handed out the agenda for the meeting that Katy noticed what was happening across the room. Rhonda—one of her closest friends and confidantes—was sitting next to Chad, their heads bowed together. He was whispering something to her, and she giggled in response as she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.
Rhonda was twenty-nine and certain that somehow God hadn’t heard her prayers about finding a godly man, someone who could laugh with her and lead her, a man who would be her friend and someday her husband.
Guys had come and gone from Rhonda’s life, but no one ever fit the bill; no one ever made her eyes light up when the two of them were together. At least not as far as Katy had ever seen.
Until now.
The chemistry between Rhonda and Chad was so strong that Katy wondered if everyone in the room could sense it. The way they leaned slightly toward each other and the way everyone else seemed to disappear when their eyes met. Katy couldn’t keep the smile from her face, and at that moment, Rhonda looked her way.
In her expression was a message Katy could read perfectly. What she was sensing about Rhonda was indeed true. They would talk about it later.
First on Bethany’s agenda was the fact that the spring play had been changed from Seussical to Godspell. “We took into account several things.” Bethany looked at her notes and then at Katy. “Primarily the mission statement of CKT, which is to glorify God through musical theater. I discussed with the national board how we would want to go out if this is the last CKT play.” She hesitated. “With a message to the community, obviously.”
Katy focused on the notes in front of her, willing herself not to cry. Bethany hadn’t said anything about this for certain being the last CKT show in Bloomington. But the possibility hurt. She kept her gaze down, even when she felt Dayne’s arm around her shoulders. Godspell was good. No, it was perfect. She’d seen a video of the CKT version back when she first came to Bloomington to do Christian Kids Theater. It was a series of vignettes illustrating the parables of Jesus.
It would be fitting for the kids of CKT whether it was the last show before summer or the last show ever.
Rhonda and Chad shared their vision for the play, how they pictured the sets as minimal and the costumes being whatever street clothes the kids felt most comfortable in.
“The point, if I get this right, is to show a modern-day picture of what it would look like if Jes
us were telling His stories to a group of kids like the ones in CKT.” Chad glanced at Rhonda, then Bethany. “Is that right?”
“Exactly.” Bethany smiled. “It’ll be the perfect show to bring the kids close together and remind us all why we do what we do.”
Guilt pricked at Katy’s soul. Why they did what they did? Shouldn’t she be asking herself the same question? She was about to film a movie with Dayne that would bring no overt portrait of faith to the viewers. Was that what God wanted of her? Was it enough to simply star in a film with Dayne without looking at the project in light of eternity?
Dayne must’ve sensed what she was feeling, because he gave her shoulder a light squeeze.
Katy took a long breath and looked up. She had to stay focused on this meeting.
Bethany moved past the next few items quickly. Auditions would take place at the end of this week, on Friday, and already more than a hundred kids had signed up for classes. The CKT budget was in good shape with plenty of funds to pay a small stipend to the directors and cover the cost of renting the theater.
Bethany sighed. “That brings us to the real reason we wanted to meet with you, Katy.”
“The theater?” She leaned into Dayne and held her breath.
“Yes.” She paused and glanced at everyone in the room. “I’m afraid the owners have made up their mind. They’ve been contacted by a number of developers, and it’s no longer fiscally sound for them to hold on to the building. They can make far more money selling it to someone who’ll tear it down and build condominiums than they could ever make renting it out to groups like CKT. They have approval from the city council.”
Katy blinked back tears. “What’s their time frame?”
“They still want to list the building in June, right after Godspell closes.” Bethany lowered her notes to her lap. “I’m sorry.”
A tear rolled down Katy’s cheek and onto her shirt. These were her worst fears realized. Months ago, when they’d talked about the possibility, Katy had felt sure something would change. For one thing, the city was looking to protect an atmosphere of arts and culture in the downtown area. She sniffed and found a level of control. “Can we appeal to the council? I mean, there’re enough houses and condos going up around town. An old theater isn’t something they can replace.”