“Ha!” Bailey held her chin high, proud. No question this was her finest acting performance yet. “Either Edmund dies—” she narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the lion—“or someone dies in his place.” Her voice boomed as she waved her hand toward her people. “That is the law, and the law must be upheld!”
Aslan steeled himself. “Take me instead.”
Katy peered down at the audience. The faces of children and adults alike were frozen, gripped by the drama playing onstage. She saw an older man dabbing at his eyes. Yes, they were struck by the scene. And no doubt by the parallels to their own lives, where a loving King had volunteered to die in each of their places as well.
The killing of Aslan pushed Katy to the edge of her seat. Again, though she’d directed the scene, though she’d blocked it and worked with each line, each word, and each chant, it was striking to see it now. The hissing and name-calling at the lion as he lay strapped to the stone table, the excitement and frenzy over what seemed like the ultimate victory for darkness.
New tears spilled down Katy’s cheeks when Susan and Lucy found the lion dead and when he brought about the greatest defeat of evil by coming back to life and destroying forever the White Witch and her hold over the children of Narnia.
As the final act played out, Katy glanced every now and then at the empty seat across the theater, the seat she’d reserved for Dayne. He would’ve loved the performance, loved everything it stood for and the work the kids had done to bring the salvation story to life.
Katy drew a breath and tried to get ahold of her emotions, but somehow the moment when the children left Narnia was the saddest of all. Because the adventure in Narnia had been magical and mysterious, and when it was all said and done maybe it was only a dream.
The way her time with Dayne was maybe only a dream.
As the show ended and she wiped her tears, Katy was struck by another thought. Maybe her sadness wasn’t only about the drama onstage, about the sacrifice of Aslan and the end of an adventure, and even about missing young Sarah Jo Stryker. Maybe saddest of all was the thing she couldn’t keep from looking at throughout the performance.
The empty seat where once upon a time Dayne Matthews had sat.
Ashley still hadn’t heard about Katy’s trip to California or how things had gone with Dayne. CKT’s run of Narnia had taken up all Katy’s time since she’d been home, and something in her demeanor made it clear she wasn’t ready to talk yet. Not about the trial or the tabloids or her time with Dayne. None of it.
Midweek Katy had called and said very little. Only that she wanted Ashley to have coffee with her and Rhonda at the coffee shop near the university the day after the play closed. Ashley agreed, and every day since then she’d wondered what the conversation might hold.
Now it was Monday, and she took a last glance in the mirror. She was starting to look like her old self, the way she’d looked before Devin. And her eyes were happier than they’d ever been—even with their little son’s early morning wake-ups. Life at home couldn’t have been better, and she woke up every day thanking God for that fact.
But Katy was struggling, and with the friendship they’d forged painting sets together, Ashley wanted to be there for her this morning. Whatever the topic of conversation.
With hurried steps, she grabbed her purse, slipped it over her shoulder, and made her way to the family room. What she saw brought her to a halt and made her breath catch.
Landon had Devin cradled in his right arm and his left arm was around Cole, who was snug against his side. Cole had brought the afghan from his bed—the one her mother had made for him when he was Devin’s age. It was tucked in around their laps. A John Wayne movie played on the TV, and Cole’s eyes lit up as the Duke confronted a trembling bad guy.
Ashley’s heart swelled inside her. If she didn’t have the coffee with Katy and Rhonda, she could’ve stood there all day, watching Landon and the way he had with their boys. Even Devin seemed to be watching the movie, content with the security of being held by his father.
“That man’s strong!” Cole’s back was straight and stiff, his whole being now caught up in the film. He looked at Landon. “Just like you, Daddy.”
“And see his partner.” Landon pointed at the screen. “He’s the tough-looking guy still on his horse.”
Cole nodded. “He’s John Wayne’s friend, right?”
“Right.” Landon looked at the TV again. “Well, that guy’s like you because he’s the perfect partner.” Landon kissed Cole on the top of his head. “Same as you and me.”
A grin stretched across Cole’s face.
Ashley pressed her hand to her heart. What would she have done without Landon, without him in her life? God had known exactly what type of man could’ve turned her head and her heart at the same time, and even so, she’d almost walked away from him. Gratitude welled up within her, and she took a mental picture of the three of them, Landon and their boys. It was a moment she would long remember, one that deserved a place on canvas.
Landon must’ve spotted her, because he turned and their eyes met. She smiled and let their gazes hold for several seconds. With her eyes she told him everything she’d been feeling, that she adored him and respected him and treasured every moment with him. And that she could never get enough of watching the way he loved their boys.
“Hi.” She came to him.
“Mommy! Shhh! John Wayne and his partner are about to catch the bad guys!” Cole’s tone wasn’t rude, just excited. His eyes were so wide she could see the whites around his pupils.
Landon paused the movie and gave him a little pat. “Hey, sport. Careful. Mommy’s more important than the movie.”
Remorse filled Cole’s face, and he bit his lip. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. John Wayne’s exciting. I know that, Coley.” She moved behind the sofa where they were sitting and gave the three of them a group hug. “I’m going out for coffee, so when I come back you can tell me all about it.”
“Okay.” Cole’s expression was full of anticipation for the rest of the movie. He turned toward the TV. “Bye, Mom. Have fun.”
Landon turned to her. “Hey, you.” He took his hand from Cole’s shoulder and ran his fingers through her hair. He hit the Play button on the remote, turned up the volume, and whispered in her direction, “You have the most beautiful hair. Has anyone told you that?”
She gave him a tender smile, one made up of all the emotions stirring in her soul. Even sorrow for dear old Irvel, the patient at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home who had asked Ashley about her hair twice an hour every day Ashley worked there. “I have a confession.” She brought her lips to his and kissed him. Slow enough to make him aware of her desire and quick enough to escape the notice of Cole.
His eyes danced. In his right arm, little Devin yawned. “Confessions are good.”
“I know this girl . . . and she has the biggest crush on you.”
“Really.” Landon raised his eyebrows. “Does she live nearby?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She kissed him once more. “Right down the hall.”
“Guys . . .” Cole looked over his shoulder at them. “It’s the best part!”
“Okay.” Landon chuckled. Then he cast her a look. “Do me a favor.”
She nodded as she took a step back. She loved this, the way they could play with each other, the way the laughter between them was sometimes as precious as the love.
“Tell this girl maybe we can meet when I get off work. Late tonight.” He winked at her. “If you know what I mean.”
She gave him her best flirtatious look. “I think she’ll be very interested.” Then she blew him a last kiss and grinned. “Love you, Landon.”
“Love you too.”
Cole shot up onto his knees and flashed her a smile. “Bye, Mommy. Have fun at coffee.”
“Okay, buddy. Have fun with Daddy.”
As she walked out the door into the garage, she heard Cole’s voice ring out. “He got ’em, Daddy! I knew he would get
’em!”
Ashley didn’t stop smiling all the way to the Flanigan house. But she spent half the time praying for Katy, that whatever the conversation, she might have some wisdom to add, some way of helping Katy know what to do next. She was in love with Dayne Matthews—no doubt about that.
But could anything good or lasting ever come from someone so famous, so used to living the Hollywood lifestyle? Ashley didn’t think so, but she’d have to be gentle with her words. It wasn’t long ago when the road was unclear in her own life. Katy needed support more than anything, support and encouragement—no matter what had happened in LA.
She pulled into the Flanigans’ driveway a few minutes before ten o’clock. Katy and Jenny Flanigan had taken Katy’s car to the shop early this morning for new brakes, so the plan was for Ashley to pick Katy up; then they would meet Rhonda at the coffee shop. She drove slowly up the drive, admiring everything about the Flanigan house. The drive was lined by sunset maples and rhododendrons, and on either side the grass was deep green and well manicured, like sections of the grounds at the local country club.
At the top of the drive, Ashley turned into the circle and parked. She hurried to the front door, admiring the Flanigans’ porch, the way it stretched the length of the house, broken up by an occasional white pillar. She knew from Katy that Jenny and Jim Flanigan—as busy as they were with six kids—found time to sit in one of their two porch swings and regularly take stock of just how blessed they were.
Ashley rang the doorbell, and Jenny answered.
“Hi.” Jenny smiled and ushered her in. “Katy’s not quite ready.”
“Hmm.” Ashley was surprised. Katy was one of the most punctual people she knew. Almost every time they’d met, Ashley had run a few minutes late. But not Katy. “Everything okay?”
“Our housekeeper got her clothes mixed up with Bailey’s.” She laughed. “I knew there was a problem when Katy came zipping down the apartment stairs in her bathrobe and darted up toward Bailey’s room. It took a few minutes to get everything sorted out. I heard Katy say something about Bailey’s extra long jeans not being an option.”
They both laughed, and Jenny led the way through an open hallway into the kitchen. Ashley had been here once before, but she was struck by the size of the place, the size of the kitchen alone. Katy had explained once that the Flanigans had built their house more for other people than themselves.
“It’s sort of like a rec center or a ministry center even.” Katy’s tone had been thoughtful. “And nothing could be truer for that family. They use it all the time—every inch of it.”
The island at the center of the kitchen was enormous, and on two sides it was framed by an elevated section of black granite, high enough and long enough for eight barstools.
“I know I’ve told you before.” Ashley stared out the windows along the back of the kitchen before turning to Jenny. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Thanks. We’ll keep it as long as we can use it for God.” Jenny opened a drawer and took out a tea bag. “Something to drink?”
Ashley looked at her watch. “Actually . . . I think I’ll wait. We’re supposed to do coffee with Rhonda.”
Jenny had instant hot water available from a spigot at the side of her sink. She filled her mug and nodded to the barstools. “Let’s sit down.”
They sat with a stool between them, and Ashley turned so she could see Jenny. “The show was amazing.” There was a chill in the house, and Ashley crossed her arms to stay warm. “Katy outdid herself.”
“I know.” Jenny took a sip of her tea. “I’m writing an article about it for Today’s Christian Woman. About Christian Kids Theater in general and how beautifully our local chapter conveyed the story of Narnia.”
Ashley had forgotten about Jenny’s writing career. Being married to a former NFL star player and coach, it was easy to see her as Mrs. Flanigan. Jim’s wife. But Jenny had a purpose all her own, and Ashley liked that. Sort of the way she had her painting, no matter that her family was more important. God had created her to paint, and as long as she lived she’d paint for Him. The way Jenny Flanigan wrote or Katy Hart directed plays.
Ashley looked toward the door that led to the apartment stairs. There was still no sign of Katy. “So—” she shifted her gaze back to Jenny—“how is she? I mean, since she’s been back from LA?”
A shadow fell over Jenny’s expression. “I worry about her.”
“Me too.” Ashley kept her tone low. If Jenny was concerned, then the conversation today was bound to be marked by sadness. “I went to the show a few times, once with Landon and Cole and again just Cole and me. Both times I found Katy and told her how wonderful things had turned out.”
“Her eyes were distant, right?” Jenny set down her mug.
“Right.” Ashley uncrossed her arms. “She was smiling, but she didn’t talk long. As if she might start crying if the conversation turned to her California trip.”
“Exactly.” Jenny tilted her head. “I’ve talked with her a lot these last few weeks. The situation with Dayne has made us a lot closer.”
“That’s good.” Ashley had a sudden thought. “And how are her parents? I heard her mom was sick?”
“Yes.” Sorrow eased the tiny lines near Jenny’s eyes. “They live in Chicago, you know. Her mother isn’t doing well. She’s in her seventies, and I guess she’s getting forgetful. Katy feels detached from them; she’s trying to convince them to move here.”
“Oh.” Ashley thought about her mother and the pain involved with watching a parent deteriorate. “No wonder her eyes look the way they do. Between that and the situation with Dayne.”
“Yes.” Jenny ran her finger absently around the rim of her mug. “I guess their good-bye in LA was pretty final. Still—” she drew a slow breath—“Katy thought he might show up for opening night. The way he has before.”
Ashley’s heart hurt for Katy. What would it be like to think you’d found the love of your life, but he’s one of the most famous men in the country? “That’s too bad.”
“It is.” Jenny frowned. “I sort of thought he’d come too.”
“You did?” Ashley was curious. Maybe Jenny had spoken with Dayne, or maybe Dayne had promised Katy he’d be there. “Was he planning to come?”
“No, not that.” Jenny took another sip of her tea. “But his birth parents live here in Bloomington. At least that’s what Katy told me. It seems like he would’ve had more than enough reason to come for the play.”
Ashley felt her stomach fall to her knees. “His birth parents?”
“Yes.” Jenny shrugged. “Dayne was adopted. A few years ago he hired a private investigator and found out that his birth family lives right here in Bloomington.” She smiled. “That’s why he was here in the first place, why he met Katy at all.”
With a sudden jolt, Ashley’s heartbeat slipped into double time. Dayne Matthews was adopted? And his birth parents lived in Bloomington? Dayne, who looked so much like Luke? who had seemed so familiar the night he’d driven her home after drama practice? Dayne, who knew her father’s cell phone number? who called during the trial? Then she realized something else. Dayne’s number had been programmed into her father’s phone under the name Dayne, right? Otherwise it wouldn’t have said so in the caller ID window.
So was it even remotely possible that . . . ?
Before she could ask another question, before she could even order her thoughts to line up so she might even know what that question would be, Katy ran through the doorway. She was red cheeked and breathless. “Sorry . . . I can’t believe I made you wait.” She gave Jenny a one-armed hug and flashed a smile at Ashley. “Ready?”
Ashley wanted to speak, wanted to turn back the clock five minutes so she could learn more about Dayne, about his adoption and whatever other information Jenny Flanigan knew. But she couldn’t say a word. All she could do was stand, collect her purse, and nod in Katy’s direction.
A memory popped into her mind. Years ago when she was six she�
�d shared a bunk bed with Erin. One night they were telling knock-knock jokes, and Ashley—on the top bunk—leaned too far over the edge. Before she could stop herself, she slipped over the side and landed flat on her back. The fall knocked the wind from her and scared her to death because her lungs seemed to take forever simply to remember how to breathe again, to draw in even the slightest bit of oxygen.
Which was exactly how she was feeling right now.
Katy hated running late.
Her mother had always told her it was a sign of selfishness, that people who were chronically late gave the impression that they didn’t care about others and the schedules others kept. But when she opened her closet she knew she was in trouble. The jeans there definitely weren’t her own. In a house the size of the Flanigans’, there was no telling what mix-up might’ve happened. One time she’d found four pairs of her jeans neatly folded in Connor’s closet.
She moved quickly, leading the way to Ashley’s van and breathing apologies. “I’m so sorry, Ash, really.”
“It’s okay.” Ashley took the driver’s seat and stared straight ahead.
That’s when Katy saw it. Something was wrong with her friend, something she hadn’t seen before. Her eyes looked distant and almost terrified. “Ashley? You okay?”
She started the van and gave her a quick glance. “Definitely.”
“You look pale.” Katy pressed her back against the passenger door and watched her friend. Maybe it was the new baby or sleepless nights. “Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.” She uttered an anxious-sounding laugh. “Today’s about your life, not mine.”
But even as the two of them talked about baby Devin and Landon and Cole’s recent love for John Wayne movies, Katy had the feeling that something wasn’t right. And that whatever it was, Ashley wasn’t going to talk about it. Not now, anyway.
They reached the coffee shop and joined Rhonda at a booth in the back.
“Hey, guys!” Rhonda looked upbeat, the way she usually did. “Get your drinks and let’s get talking. I have a date to talk about, but my story can wait.”
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