Forever

  Bailey leaned in close. “I looked through a crack in the curtains. I don’t see him.”

  “He’s not here.” Katy peeked around the curtain and searched the audience the way she’d done a dozen times in the last few minutes. Rhonda was standing near the back next to Aaron, the guest speaker and activities director. He’d turned out to be a great guy, and he seemed to hit it off with Rhonda. Katy wouldn’t be surprised if he asked Rhonda out once they got back to real life on the other side of the lake.

  But Dayne was nowhere.

  Bailey frowned. “I thought for sure he’d come.”

  “Me too. He was probably sucked into a meeting. Directors can do that.”

  “Yeah.” Bailey grinned at Katy. “Tell me about it.”

  “You doing okay with Tim and Bryan?”

  “Fine.” She giggled. “I invited Tanner to the show. That oughta keep them both quiet.”

  “I’d say.”

  Bailey looked at the stage. “My mom says I have to give him a chance to like theater. Maybe then we’ll have more to talk about.”

  “Good advice. Besides, Tim and Bryan both have pretty big egos. If your boyfriend’s here tonight, they might still have a chance to fit through the doorway at the end of the show.”

  “Right.” Bailey held her hands out. “Pray with me?”

  “Sure.” They bowed their heads together. Katy asked God for His protection and provision throughout the night, that Bailey and the others would remember their lines, and that the entire show would be glorifying to Him.

  When Bailey ran off to join the others, Katy worked out a few more kinks in costumes and blocking assignments; then she took her place in the front row. Rhonda and Aaron sat on her right side; Bethany Allen, CKT’s coordinator, on her left. Up until the moment the lights went down, Katy searched. Time and again she looked over her shoulder and scanned the auditorium.

  But there was no Dayne.

  She hid her disappointment. Even Rhonda didn’t know she’d been expecting him. It was time to dismiss all other thoughts so she could focus on the matter at hand. Her finest teen-camp production so far.

  The lights faded to dark, and a single spotlight appeared onstage.

  “Dorothy?” The teen playing Aunt Em craned her neck as she looked out over the audience. “Dorothy, it’s time to come in. I’ve got supper on the table and a storm’s coming.”

  Bailey came running down the side aisle and up onto the stage. “Here I am, Aunt Em.”

  The lines, the acting, the timing—all of it was perfect. Again Katy felt the ache of disappointment. Dayne had really wanted to see Bailey and Connor in a show together. And more than that, she had been looking forward to after the show, to finding a quiet place where she could lay her head on his chest and let him wrap his arms around her.

  The show moved along without a hitch. Bryan was perfect as the Scarecrow, standing on the inside edges of his feet and letting his arms dangle, regardless of the scene. Same with Tim, who managed to use robotic movements whenever he needed a little oil. Even the Cowardly Lion was good—played by a wiry teen who had no trouble acting timid. His song drew more laughs than all the others combined.

  When it was over, Katy looked once more. She saw Tanner Williams sitting with Jenny and Jim Flanigan. But Dayne wasn’t here. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t in Bloomington. Because if he were, nothing could’ve kept him from being here tonight. The cast took their bows, then stayed onstage to sing three praise songs.

  This was what she really wanted Dayne to see.

  No matter how victorious the show, the kids never forgot this part. They linked hands—Bailey and Connor and Bryan and Tim, the Schneider girls and the Shaffer kids. The Rogers and Farleys and Pick boys. Parts no longer mattered, but only the one voice they lifted to heaven. “I love You, Lord . . . and I lift my voice. . . .”

  Katy felt tears in her eyes. Thank You, God, for these kids. And for reminding me every time they take the stage why I’m here. Nights like this she almost felt like Dorothy. There really was no place like home. And, Lord, thanks for showing me again. There’s no other place I’d rather call home. Just hurry the time so Dayne can be here with me. All the time.

  Finally the houselights lifted, and the kids raced down the stage stairs and off to their respective parents. Around the auditorium, parents were handing kids flowers and giving hugs and snapping pictures. It was a familiar scene, and usually Katy would make the rounds, posing for pictures with the kids who called out to her.

  She was walking up the aisle toward the back of the theater when she spotted a man who looked like John Baxter near the door. He was talking to Bethany, and his face looked tightly drawn, serious. Strange, she thought. She continued toward them. She hadn’t seen the Baxters in attendance. Ashley had hoped to make it with Landon and the boys, and even Kari had talked about bringing her husband and their two children. But until now Katy hadn’t seen any of them.

  As she came closer, she saw she was right. The man was John Baxter. He turned and their eyes met. That’s when Katy saw that his eyes were red and swollen. His lips parted but he said nothing, only shook his head.

  Bethany pulled away, touching Katy on the elbow briefly before she walked off.

  “John?” Katy closed the distance between them. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, Katy.”

  Katy gripped his forearm. That wasn’t the right answer. Her question had been rhetorical. If someone looked upset, you asked if something was wrong. Most of the time the sad-looking person would shake his head and decline to get into details. “Everything’s fine,” he would say. Or “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal.” Never was a person supposed to answer the way John Baxter just had.

  Katy searched his face, his eyes. Was it Ashley? Had something happened to her friend on the way to the show? “Talk to me. What happened?”

  “There’s been an accident. Dayne’s SUV was hit by a truck this morning.” John sniffed, and his lower lip trembled. “He’s in the hospital in intensive care. They . . . they don’t know if he’ll make it.”

  Katy’s head began to spin and her mind raced. What was he talking about? Dayne wasn’t in an accident. She’d talked to him just last night, and everything was all set. He would board a plane at ten this morning and meet her at the auditorium in time for the show. She looked slowly over her shoulder at the rows of seats. Only he had never showed up, so maybe . . .

  She turned back to John and shook her head. “Not Dayne.” Her voice was a painful whisper, each word taking every bit of her strength. Her knees shook, and she had to blink hard to keep from passing out. Not Dayne, God. Not him.

  John took her in his arms and held her. Then he led her outside and around the corner. The summer air did nothing to stop the chill that suddenly ran through her. “I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Ashley’s coming too. I thought you’d want to join us.”

  No, she didn’t want to join them. She wanted to walk back into the auditorium and see Dayne Matthews signing autographs for the CKT kids. She wanted to see Bailey and Connor run up to him and beg him for his opinion of their show. She didn’t want to fly to Los Angeles and find him in a hospital room. She held on to John with both hands and squeezed her eyes shut. She had to focus, had to make herself think.

  Katy blinked and looked at him again. “What happened?”

  Disgust and anger mixed in John’s expression, and he clenched his jaw. “Paparazzi. Dayne and Randi Wells were leaving breakfast in separate cars, and a dozen photographers chased them. One of them veered into oncoming traffic and started a chain reaction. An oncoming delivery truck lost control and shot straight into Dayne’s door.”

  Katy gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. “Is Randi with him?” Someone had to be. He couldn’t be lying there in a hospital room fighting for his life without anyone nearby.

  “She’s there. They won’t let her in yet.” John glanced at the ground, clearly fighting tears. When he found her eyes, he looked like
whatever he had to say next was maybe the hardest part of all. “He has a brain injury, Katy. Also, he may lose his left leg. Internal bleeding, organ damage. The accident was horrific.” He pulled her close again. “We have to pray for a miracle.”

  Brain injury? Katy pictured the handicapped brother of one of the CKT kids. The child had been riding his bicycle without a helmet when he was hit by a car. The accident took everything but his life. It left him in a near-vegetative state, unable to walk or talk or think beyond an infant level. Katy shuddered. “Yes. We have to pray.”

  “Should I book you a flight?”

  “For tomorrow?” Suddenly the urgency filled her heart and mind and raced through her veins. “What if . . . what if that’s too late?” She took a few backward steps. “We need to go now. The next flight, John. Don’t you think?”

  “I’ve checked.” John caught up with her and put his arms around her. “Don’t panic. Dayne needs you to be calm, to pray. Come on.” He gently led her toward the parking lot. “I’ll take you home so you can get some sleep. I’ll pick you up at four in the morning. The flight leaves at seven.” He explained that Bethany and Rhonda had come in one car, and later Rhonda would collect Katy’s things and drive Katy’s car back. Bethany would follow her to the Flanigan house.

  “Yes.” Katy was numb. “Take me home, please.” Nothing made sense, and all she wanted to do was find a way to Dayne. Even if she had to walk all night. She buried her head in John’s shoulder as they walked.

  On the way home, she said nothing because everything felt like a horrible nightmare, so surreal she couldn’t believe it was happening. She hadn’t seen Dayne for a month, so today was going to be about more than the show. By now they should’ve been almost finished with the aftermath from the camp, and they would’ve found a quiet spot on Lake Monroe where they could talk and hold hands and dream about their future.

  Only now nothing was certain, not even Dayne’s next breath.

  When they reached the Flanigans’, Katy thought of another question. “When will we know more?”

  John understood. The dark shadows on his face, the tears that pooled in his eyes, told her the answer before he spoke. “His injuries are very serious. We have to beg God for His help, for every minute he survives.”

  “Dear God . . .” She couldn’t finish, couldn’t find the words. It was already too late. Dayne was so badly hurt that she didn’t know where to begin.

  John took her hands in his and finished the prayer. “I’ve seen You work miracles, Lord. I’ve seen You allow life in little Hayley, and I’ve seen you take the woman I love home to heaven.” For a moment his emotions seemed to prevent him from speaking. After several seconds he coughed and continued. “Lord, Dayne is only beginning to live. He has found You and us and Katy . . . all in the same season of life. Please—” his tone grew desperate—“please, God, heal his wounds, his brain, and his leg. Breathe life into Dayne so we see a dramatic change in the morning. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Katy couldn’t speak. She thanked John with her eyes; then she leaned over and hugged him. She wasn’t sure how she stepped out of the car and made it to the front door. Jenny and Jim met her there. Their ashen faces told her they already knew. They must’ve left the play immediately so they could be here for her.

  “Katy . . . oh, honey.” Jenny wrapped her arms around her and held her close. “I’m sorry. The story’s all over the TV.”

  TV? Katy sagged against Jenny. How could they? The same paparazzi who had caused the accident were now providing the networks with pictures and video? Couldn’t they give Dayne privacy even in this? Anger built inside her, and it gave her strength. She searched Jenny’s face. Jim stood on Katy’s other side, his hand on her shoulder. Katy tried to focus. “What . . . what are they saying?”

  “It’s bad.” Jenny looked hesitant. “He’s in intensive care.”

  “I know. John Baxter got a call from Randi Wells.” Katy felt faint again. She walked slowly down a short hallway toward the kitchen and great room. The television was on, and she wanted to see it for herself. Maybe the information they’d heard was wrong. Maybe the news would say Dayne hadn’t been injured but only stuck in traffic after a fender bender. Something like that.

  She rubbed her temples as she took a seat directly in front of the Flanigans’ big-screen TV. Jenny and Jim took the spots on either side of her. They didn’t have to wait long. A woman anchor appeared on the screen beneath a banner that read, “Dayne Matthews in Critical Condition.”

  Katy held her breath. No, God . . . no, please.

  Using the tone reserved for grave matters, the anchor drew a slow breath and began. “Actor Dayne Matthews is fighting for his life in a Santa Monica hospital tonight, victim of a paparazzi chase gone awry.” She gave the details of the crash, the same ones John had explained to Katy earlier. “Tonight doctors are trying to prevent amputation of Matthews’ left leg.”

  The station cut to a clip of a doctor speaking before a throng of reporters and photographers. “Dayne Matthews’ condition is extremely critical.” He made a straight line of his lips and hesitated. “We’re doing what we can, but several of his injuries are life threatening.”

  Back to the anchor. “Dayne Matthews’ agent said he expects another press conference from doctors in the morning. The accident is sadly reminiscent of the one that took the life of Princess Diana.” She paused. “In other news . . .”

  Jim clicked the TV off, but Katy barely noticed. She could no longer lie to herself, convince herself for another breath, another moment, that maybe the facts were wrong or that it wasn’t such a serious accident after all.

  She collapsed in Jenny’s arms, and finally her tears came. Floods of them, desperate for a way to release the sorrow building inside her, filling her heart. She would find a way to exist between now and four in the morning, and then she would pray with every passing second that by the time she reached Dayne’s side, he would still be alive. Because the accident, the details of his injuries, his prognosis—none of the information she’d already heard had been wrong or exaggerated.

  Katy had no idea how long she stayed in Jenny’s arms, sobbing, aching for Dayne to walk in and tell her it was a horrible mistake. But it wasn’t, so there was nothing left to say.

  The TV news had said it all.

  The mix of emotions had become an angry, churning sea, and Ashley Baxter Blake was so far underwater she couldn’t see her way to daylight. Landon had called the fire station and asked for a few days off so he could watch the boys and Ashley could join her dad and Katy in LA. Ashley was grateful. She couldn’t imagine coming this far in the search for Dayne only to lose him.

  It was four o’clock Sunday morning, chilly and still a long way from sunrise, when Ashley and her dad pulled into the Flanigans’ circular drive.

  Katy appeared and jogged to the car. She had just one small suitcase.

  Ashley opened her door, stepped out, and met Katy’s terrified eyes. “I’m so sorry, Katy.”

  “We have to get there.”

  “Yes.” Ashley could barely stand up under the rush of sorrow. The two of them hugged, and Katy took the backseat.

  As they pulled out, she leaned up and directed her question at Ashley and her father. “Have you heard anything?”

  Ashley watched her dad’s reaction. His face was a mask of thinly veiled fear. “I spoke to his doctor half an hour ago. So far they’ve been able to save his leg, but he’s not out of the woods. Infection’s a big threat.”

  “What about . . .” Katy was breathless. She sounded scared to death. “What about his head injury?”

  “He’s in a coma. They removed fluid late last night, but swelling in his brain could still be a problem.”

  Ashley leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Swelling in his brain? A coma? Infection that could result in Dayne’s losing his leg? Every bit of dialogue was like something from a horrific nightmare. And all because the paparazzi wanted a photograph. The situation was m
addening, and Ashley intended to do something about it. After all, Luke was practically a lawyer. Maybe they could file a lawsuit against the tabloids, ordering them to keep their distance from now on. Something had to be done. Otherwise even if Dayne survived, they’d only chase him into another dangerous situation.

  She angled herself so she could see Katy better. Her friend was shivering, her arms crossed tightly in front of her. Ashley wished with everything in her that she could whisk them back in time and find some way to protect Dayne, some way to undo the damage. She reached back and put her hand on Katy’s knee. “The paparazzi did this before, didn’t they? When you were in LA for the trial?”

  “Yes.” Katy’s teeth were chattering. “They ran us off the road.”

  Ashley knew the rest of the story. The incident had convinced Dayne that his lifestyle was too difficult for Katy, too dangerous. They had called off their relationship, and things didn’t work out until Dayne surprised her with an engagement ring over the Fourth of July holiday and shared his plans to move to Indiana.

  Her older brother was anxious to live in Bloomington, marry Katy, and become a part of the Baxter family. Dayne had told her so himself the last time he was in town. “All the insanity is about to calm down.” He had smiled at the others around the table at the Baxter house. “I feel like my real life’s just about to start.”

  His words haunted Ashley as they neared the airport in silence, and another concern began to take root, but it wasn’t one she wanted to talk about near Katy. Katy had enough to worry about.

  They arrived at the airport and boarded the plane as part of the last group of passengers. Ashley was seated by her father, and Katy was a few rows up. They’d been the only seats left on the plane when her dad booked the tickets.