“I suggested we have a sit-down dinner this year. Hope you like roast beef, Dorie.”
“One of my favorites.”
The conversation focused on everyone’s dislike of the tough roast beef. When the tables had been cleared, Brandy stood; as he approached the makeshift podium, the room exploded with applause. Jamey continued his praise. “Brandy’s very well-liked, as you can tell. He’s been Midville’s mayor for the past twenty years.”
Anyone related to half a town would certainly have a good shot at winning an election. Brandy Harwood, though, exuded oodles of charm and probably would have become mayor without the relative advantage.
“Before we begin with the awards, the Scouts will perform a skit. Let’s give them all a hand.”
Jamey’s blush burned with three shades of scarlet. “Those are my scouts. I shudder to think—”
The Scouts entered, carrying a cut-out of a car tied up with a big ribbon. The room erupted with laughter. Jamey leaned in and whispered an explanation. “Last year at camp I drove a red Mini Cooper, like those cars in The Italian Job. One night, the boys pushed the car so it leaned against the flagpole by the Administration Building. The next morning at revelry, I found my Mini Cooper tied up with a big yellow bow.”
“So that’s why you’re driving a Nissan?”
“It was a gift from my father.” Jamey’s shoulders heaved with amusement. “The Phantom does have advantages.”
“Phantom?”
“That’s what my troop calls it.”
The skit met with clamoring applause. When the thunder lessened, Brandy began the awards, each announcement receiving nods of approval and polite recognition.
Finally, he straightened his tie and paused for dramatic effect. “I’m privileged to honor these next two people. I wouldn’t be here tonight if it weren’t for both of them. One gave life to the father who gave me life. The other saved me from a watery grave. Let’s hear it for our heroine and hero of the evening: Rose Harwood Niles and Jamey Sullivan.”
The crowd stood, their applause deafening.
Jamey blushed again. “Don’t pay attention, Dorie. That’s nothing but political banter.”
He helped Rose to the podium. She accepted her award and gave both Brandy and Jamey a peck on the cheek. Brandy handed Jamey his plaque and presented him with a ceremonial handshake. He left the podium with Rose and joined Dorie at their table while Jamey took the microphone.
She uttered a quick prayer. Lord, help him not to stutter.
He took a second, then faced the crowd. “Who knows where the next Shakespeare, Madam Curie, or Martin Luther King, Jr. will come from? Greatness does not depend upon geography or heredity. Greatness is born from dedicated leadership—leaders who encourage, rather than discourage, the dreamer inside the dawdler.”
The dawdler—that could be Josh and his ill-timed questions. Like this morning, when he’d asked how many bones were in the human body right when she was cramming in a load of laundry. Hearing Jamey’s words, she wished now she hadn’t snapped at Josh. She should have dropped the laundry, booted up the computer, and helped her son explore the wonders of anatomy.
Jamey’s speech ended with a standing ovation.
As Dorie rose with the throng of admirers, she marveled at this man. What history hid behind his words of wisdom? When he returned to the table, she squeezed his hand. “You were wonderful, Jamey.”
He looked into her eyes, and the glimmer retreated. Something like panic looked back at her. Maybe he thought she’d been too forward. After all, the man was her boss.
Many congratulations and handshakes later, they made their way to Jamey’s Nissan. Dorie snickered when she got in, wondering what riding in the Mini Cooper might have been like. When they pulled from the parking lot onto the main road, she braved the question tripping on her tongue. “How did you save Brandy Harwood’s life?”
“There’s nothing to tell. He went for a midnight swim in the Onchiota River and got caught in the current. I pulled him out. The newspapers made too much of it since Brandy was the mayor.” Jamey’s summary tied up the story neater than a movie logline. In all likelihood, he’d deleted a large segment. Why brush off her curiosity with a snippet? He averted her questioning gaze. Clearly, he wouldn’t let her tramp on his personal history. At least, not yet.
“There’s a lot of stuff in my past I’d rather not discuss. I’d prefer you first know the man I am now. People change. I’m not that crazy kid anymore, and Brandy is different too.”
She imagined a walk on a moonlit beach, she and Jamey holding hands. In her fantasy he placed a ring on her finger and told her his secrets. She said none of that mattered. He kissed her, and they continued their walk for the rest of their lives together.
Hold on, Dorie … way too premature.
“I had a great time tonight,” she said, resisting the urge to gush with accolades on his speech and how much Midville seemed to admire him.
“I’m glad. I like being with you. You make me laugh.”
“Nice that I’m amusing.”
“I meant that as a compliment.”
Growing up, people laughed at her inattentiveness, like spilling spaghetti while walking across the room. She remembered Mom’s urging to not be so scatter brained and to focus on the moment, a simple instruction, but one Dorie could never grasp. Her spastic neurons plagued her as much as her curly, blonde hair. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change her genetic predisposition. Devon had called her scatterbrained traits creative genius. Of course, he loved her, so her uncommonly wired psyche never bothered him.
As he pulled into her driveway, Dorie thought about Jamey’s pragmatic sobriety. He possessed a depth—a closeted interior, true enough, but width and breadth she could depend on. When they first met, she thought him shy. Now his quiet confidence drew her. As he helped her from the car, his eyes pulled her in. She slipped her arm through his as they strolled up the walk.
He paused at her front door. Would he kiss her goodnight?
“Thanks for being with me tonight.”
Why didn’t he look at her?
“I’m … um … leaving … for the weekend tomorrow, but …um … I’ll be back in time for rehearsal Monday night. Sh—Sherrie will be able to answer any work-related questions.”He gazed at the ice-covered porch. “Well … um … goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jamey.”
He turned back to his car and drove off without even a handshake. Reason fought disappointment. Jamey made no declarations. If friendship was all he wanted, so be it. She would expect nothing more and would stand in line with the rest of his fan club.
Who was she kidding? She’d fallen for him. Now what? How could she go into work day after day knowing he felt no more affection for her than he did for Gabe or Danny Riley?
When Dorie entered the house, Gillian looked up, an enigmatic twinkle in her eye. “How did it go?”
What could she say? The evening had been as magical as a fairy tale, until a few moments ago. “All right, I guess.”
“I re-read the play tonight. Did you know that George resisted his attraction to Mary? Loving her meant giving up his dreams.”
Where was Gillian going with this conversation? “Yes. I enjoy reading the script over and over as well. I’m afraid I don’t understand what the play has to do with tonight.”
“Don’t give up on Jamey. He likes you, but he’s at a crossroads.”
“Go on.”
“Ultimately, Mary became George’s salvation from a life he wanted but one that wouldn’t have given him serenity. George thought his destiny rested anywhere except Bedford Falls. He couldn’t see the happiness in his own backyard.”
What does Jamey need saving from?
Gillian put on her coat. “The kids were great. Feel free to ask me to stay with them anytime. By the way, your mother called. She said your brother is doing great. Here’s the kicker. She said I could tell you that your brother and fiancée are moving to Midville
right after Christmas.”
Dorie bit her tongue as her stomach flip-flopped. “Mom will be pleased to have him so near.”
She should be happy for JJ too. Yet, the green monster reared. For the past year, she’d been the focus of her parents’ attention. Now with JJ moving to Midville and a wedding in February, would she be relegated to the less favored child? She scolded herself for harboring such pettiness.
Dorie pulled a gift bag containing a small scented candle from the top closet shelf and handed it to Gillian. “Please accept this. I really do appreciate your help tonight.”
She snapped open the bag. “I love candles. Thank you.” She tucked the gift into her purse. “Will I see you in church?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want the children to miss the last practice before their play Sunday night.”
“I’m sorry Jamey’s going to miss it.” Gillian rubbed her lips together, holding the pose for at least a minute, the way Mom did when she had something profound to deliver. “I think you should know that Jamey’s agent landed him an audition for a Broadway play already in progress. One of the main actors and his understudy were injured in a car accident.”
So that was the reason for Jamey’s sudden aloofness and for Gillian’s references to the deeper meanings of the play? “Too bad for the folks who were hurt, but I guess that gives Jamey the chance he’s been hoping for.”
“Don’t tell anyone yet. He wants to keep it low key.”
“I’ll pray that God’s will be done.”
Gillian beamed. “That’s exactly right.”
After Gillian left, Dorie turned off the living room lights and sat in the dark, oddly comforted by Gillian’s insights. Mary Hatch threw a stone at a rickety old house and made a wish. Instead, Dorie surrendered her unknown future into God’s hands.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Great news, Jamey. You got the part!”
“That’s huge, Sid. I’m excited, of course, but I can’t help feeling sorry for that poor actor and understudy. I guess one man’s misfortune is another man’s opportunity.”
“Luck might have provided the opportunity, but your talent landed you the role. Don’t shortchange yourself. With more luck and hard work you’ll go far—even to Hollywood if you want.”
He should be whooping and hollering for joy. Why could he only think of Dorie? Hollywood—or Midville? Which one had his heart?
He should have told her why he had to leave for the weekend. Their date had gone well—so well he couldn’t bear the thought of being torn from her, so he withdrew when all he really wanted to do was take her in his arms. He knew when he walked her to the door that if he kissed her, then they’d be on a path to serious.
Could he expect her to uproot the kids again and follow him from place to place or manage alone for long periods of time? IIsn’t that what Devon had done? He’d followed his dream and left her a widow. Dorie deserved a husband who would be there to raise the children, not another absent one.
“You still there, Jamey? You want the part or no?”
“I’m sorry, Sid. Yes, of course, I want it. I’ve got loose ends to tie up in Midville, but I’ll be back in New York in time for Tuesday’s show.”
“Understood. Will you be able to get the lines down by then?”
The lines were the least of Jamey’s problems. “Don’t worry. I’ve read Our Town a zillion times.”
“Call me when you get back to New York.”
Jamey hit end. Why the nagging doubt? Didn’t this opportunity come from the Lord? Couldn’t he serve God on Broadway or in Hollywood as much as in Midville? Other Christians managed their faith and a career in the arts.
This see-sawing had to stop. He had Pop’s permission. And Junior Harwood still wanted the business. Jamey punched in the number and hit send. “Junior? Jamey Sullivan here.”
“Jamey. Your father told me where you were. I’ve been expecting your call.”
“Are you ready to deal?”
***
Dorie could feel her mother’s disappointment even through the phone. “I wish I didn’t have to miss the children’s church play tonight.”
“Josh and Emma understand why you can’t be there. They’ll be fine.”
Dorie hesitated to bring up the subject but knew she must. “So tell me about JJ’s anticipated move to Midville. What brought that on?”
“Natasha has no family other than shirttail cousins. She says she prayed that God would move JJ back to his family. And you’re father is going to hire JJ to run a bed and breakfast.”
JJ running a business seemed as improbable as a winter golf tournament at the Midville Country Club. “Clue me in here.”
“You remember the house on Park Street, the Victorian next to the school?”
Dorie remembered the house well and how her father couldn’t go past the house without mentioning what a great bed and breakfast it would make. “So Daddy finally bought it?”
“It’s in the works and a lot of red tape to go through yet. But JJ’s very excited about the whole idea.”
At least JJ’s life was on the fast track to someplace.
“I know things haven’t worked out well for you, sweetie. Trust the Lord for His timing. You’ll see. Your path is muddy now because you’re still in transition.”
How did Mom read her thoughts like that?
“How did your date with Jamey Sullivan go?”
“It wasn’t a romantic date. More like he wanted someone to go with him to the awards banquet. We had a good time, though.”
“Some romances are like orchids. They don’t bloom overnight. I’ve got a good feeling about you two.”
If Gillian’s report was true, Mom’s intuition had backfired. “Romance is the furthest thing from Jamey’s mind.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
When she’d hit end, Dorie called Josh and Emma to get ready to leave. “It’s show time.”
Josh bounded into the kitchen, dressed for an Arctic expedition. Emma came to the door with a scarf wrapped around her neck but no coat.
“Emma? Where’s your coat?”
“Don’t know.”
Josh stomped around the living room like a felon denied parole. “Oh, man! Now Emma’s gonna make us late.”
“You’ve made us late many times yourself. Emma, we don’t have time to look for it. You’ll have to wear one of Josh’s old coats tonight.” Dorie went upstairs and dug out Josh’s Redskins starter jacket.
“That’s a boy’s coat.” Emma plunked to the floor, crossed her legs, and howled to the moon.
Time did not allow for the succor of reason. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you, young lady. Put on this coat—now.”
Emma obeyed and the wailing stopped.
“I’ll carry you to the car and back. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
Josh pulled his boots back on. “You’re too easy on her, Mom.”
“Never mind finding fault with my parenting, Mr. Know-it-all. One of these days you’ll have kids, and you’ll wonder how I ever survived.”
Josh opened the door. “You sound like Grandma.”
Even her son noticed. Time to face the truth. Dorie Fitzgerald had become a younger Felicia Perkins. She should consider that a blessing, not a curse. Both she and JJ had turned out all right. Although he might have tempted the law a few times, he held down a job and would soon marry a nice girl—a Christian girl.
When they are old, they’ll not depart from it.
***
Josh nailed his part.
Dorie clapped until her palms stung. So what if he never became an Olympian or a doctor? Maybe he’d head to Broadway like Jamey. After the applause died down and the curtain closed, Josh and Emma ran to collect their due praises.
“You were fantastic! I’m proud of both of you.” Dorie led the children toward the fellowship room for treats. The hall teemed with attendees balancing cookie-laden napkins in one hand and coffee in the other.
&nb
sp; Gushing with compliments, Gillian sprinted from one parent to another and rushed over when Dorie caught her eye. “My, these kids blew me away. Especially you, Josh. If you decide not to become a doctor, you might want to give acting a try.”
Jamey’s speech echoed like the peal of a church bell. A child’s true passion may not be what we envision for them. We must guard against locking a child into an irreversible mold thrust upon them against God’s better judgment.
“Whatever he wants is fine with me.”
Josh fidgeted like an antsy toddler. “Mom, Kyle Townsend wants me to come over after you get done working tomorrow. Can I?”
“Yes, but not for long. Don’t forget we have practice tomorrow night. We’re moving rehearsals to the school auditorium, so we’ll have to leave early.”
Gillian put her arms around Josh and Emma. “I brought Reese’s Pieces cookies. Why don’t you two grab a handful? I’d like to talk to your mother for a minute.”
The kids didn’t need a second prompting.
Gillian leaned against the wall and spoke in low tones. “Jamey got the part. You still have to keep this a secret until he gets back.”
Why would she utter a word when she didn’t want it to be true? Jamey would leave Midville and she’d be left to her dreary life again. And what of her job at Sullivan Enterprises? “Thanks for letting me know. I promise to play dumb at rehearsal.”
“He’s excited. It’s what he’s always dreamed of.”
How could Dorie find the courage to be happy for him? Did Mary Hatch feel this conflicted when George couldn’t wait to get out of Bedford Falls?
Gillian turned her attention to the other side of the room. “Excuse me. I need to speak to the Millers. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Dorie glanced about the room filled with congregants, many she recognized. Funny how a few weeks ago these people were names in a directory or on the prayer chain. Now they seemed like family. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but at Midville Community Church on Sunday mornings.
It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long Page 14