“What do you mean?”
“Name one person who would care if I didn’t show up.” Gwen dabbed at her eyes, removing the heavy eyeliner.
“Me.”
“What?” Gwen turned and stared at her, eyes misting over. “Since when?”
“Since always, Gwen.” Amy spoke the words from her heart, meaning them with every fiber of her being.
“I seriously doubt you or anyone else in this town really cares about me.”
Amy gave her a curious look. “Of course we do. Everyone thinks you hung the moon. And you were pretty amazing the other day with Sarge. If you hadn’t been there, there’s no telling what might have happened.” She smiled. “I know Jackson appreciated it.”
“Jackson.” Gwen blew out a breath. “I have to wonder if he even realizes I’m alive. Just like Steve never knew I was alive when you were around. You’re so…” She quickly turned, as if embarrassed to be caught wearing her emotions on her sleeve.
“Gwen, what happened to us?” Amy reached to touch her arm. “You were my best friend. We did everything together. And now it seems like we’re on opposite teams or something. It’s weird. I don’t like it.”
“Me either.” Gwen’s words were whispered but genuine.
Amy pulled her chair a little closer, looking at Gwen intently. “It’s been great working with you on the show. I love that whole Knights of the Round Table thing. I’ve enjoyed watching everyone work together…no one being more than—or less than—anyone else.”
“That’s just it.” Gwen faced to her, eyes filled with tears. “I could never compare myself to you because you always won out.”
“W–what?”
“Yes. You were every teacher’s pet. You were so friendly, and everyone loved you. Then when Steve came along…” she shook her head. “Anyway, it’s not always easy being friends with someone who’s so perfect. That’s why I ended up stepping away, if you want the truth. I couldn’t stand the comparison.”
Amy shook her head, completely dumbfounded. Gwen’s words stunned her. “You’ve been comparing yourself to me? Don’t you realize what a screwup I am? I’m the last person you want to compare yourself to.”
“You’re the one who always gets the guy at the end of the story,” Gwen said. “And from the time Steve became your best friend, there wasn’t room for me anymore.”
“But…” Amy couldn’t find the words. Nothing made sense. She finally worked up the courage to speak. “I’m sorry if I pushed you away, Gwen. I never meant to do it. Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention.”
“Who knows.” Gwen faced her reflection once again. “Maybe I was just too caught up in the fairy tale. Thought I’d capture the guy and ride off into the sunset. But that’s not going to happen now, so I need to just get over it.”
Amy shook her head. “Don’t be so sure. I know that God has someone special for you, Gwen, because you’re so special.”
An awkward silence rose up between them, followed by a little sniffle from Gwen. “I’m clueless about all of that.” Her words sounded strained. “Sometimes I think it’s easier just to go on pretending. The real world isn’t much fun.”
“Well, I hear ya on that one,” Amy said. “Trust me when I say that I’d just as soon put on rose-colored glasses and pretend everything’s perfect when it’s not. But that’s not an honest way to live. Facing reality is really the only way to accomplish anything. It’s a hard lesson, but it’s one I’ve definitely learned in the past few weeks, thanks to Camelot.”
“Camelot was a fictional place.” Gwen returned to her makeup removal, working the cotton ball until every last bit of eyeliner had disappeared.
“I used to think that,” Amy said. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
Amy paused to collect her thoughts. She wanted her response to be just right. “The more I think about it, the more I realize that Camelot symbolizes something far greater than any earthly kingdom.”
“What’s that?” Gwen tossed the cotton ball into the trash can and looked at Amy.
“We need to live in the real world, for sure,” Amy said. “But we’ve also got to have faith that God is leading us toward an ideal home—a true Camelot, as it were. A place where the weather really is perfect year-round and a King—the King—rules in wisdom and power.”
Gwen shrugged.
“We can trust him, Gwen.” Amy rose and stood beside her friend’s chair, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. “He loves us. You know?”
Gwen’s eyes filled with tears, and she reached for another cotton ball. “Look what you’ve done, Amy. Ruined a perfectly good makeup removal.” Her words were followed by a hint of a smile.
Not exactly outstretched arms, but a step in the right direction. Not that Amy expected the relationship to be mended in a day. After all, good things came to those who were willing to wait. If this production hadn’t proven that, nothing would.
Steve took a few steps toward the Civic Center, looking through the sea of people for the woman who’d stolen his heart. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to find her.
“Looking for someone?” Pete asked, coming up beside him.
“Yes. Haven’t seen Amy for a few minutes.” His gaze darted to the right and then the left. Where was she?
“You know how women are. She’s probably gabbing with the other ladies or fixing herself up to look beautiful for you.”
“She definitely doesn’t need to fix herself up to look beautiful,” Steve said. “She’s never been the kind to wear a lot of makeup, and I’m fine with that.”
Pete laughed. “My daddy used to say, ‘Powder and paint make a girl what she ain’t.’ ” His paused, a reflective look on his face. “Not sure what that says about Lucy Cramden, but I have learned to admire her artwork.”
Steve laughed. “You are a man who appreciates fine art, to be sure.”
“And willing to work hard to get it,” Pete added. “Which reminds me…I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?” Steve looked Pete’s way. “What’s that? Did you decide to pop the question?”
“No. I bought a ferret.”
“You what?” Steve stared at him, confused. “On purpose?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve named him Fabian.”
Steve shook his head, not quite believing this. “And you did this because…?”
“I decided Fiona must be lonely. That’s why she’s always in trouble. And I thought it might be a surefire way to win Lucy’s heart. If she knows how much I care about her pet, she’ll realize how much I care about her. Right?”
Steve chewed on that idea. “Makes sense. So when are you going to tell her?”
Pete glanced across the stage and drew in a deep breath. “Right now. Pray for me.”
“Will do.”
Steve watched as Pete sprinted into the Civic Center, his head held high.
“Lord,” Steve whispered. “I’m not sure why You’ve planted me in this crazy town, but I do find it all pretty entertaining.”
“Entertaining?” Eula Mae’s voice rang out. “You find us entertaining?”
“Very.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soft white curls.
“Ah. Well, then, you’ll like this,” she said, wriggling out of his arms. “I’ve just been told there’s going to be a funeral. That ought to be good for a laugh.”
“A funeral?” Steve looked up, fear gripping his heart. “Who died?”
Eula Mae rolled her eyes. “Bugsy.”
“Well, yes, but…a funeral?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “According to Jackson, Sarge feels awful about what he’s done. He didn’t mean to shoot Bugsy. The whole thing happened accidentally while he was out taking a few practice shots. Apparently Sarge called Pastor Crane this afternoon and asked him if he’d perform the service. He wants to go all out for poor Bugsy.”
“Isn’t Pastor Crane a little busy right now?”
“Yes.” Eula Mae
chuckled. “Just got a call from him, by the way. Natalie’s due to deliver anytime now, so the funeral will have to wait a few days. Just wanted you to know, since you’re the mayor and all.”
“Thanks.” He paused to rake his fingers through his hair. “I think.”
Eula Mae narrowed her gaze. “You might want to shave between now and then. Wouldn’t be right to go to a funeral looking like that. This is going to be a pretty big shindig. They’re going to bury Bugsy proper-like. Sarge is buying a coffin and everything. Not an expensive one, mind you. One from the back room of the mortuary. The kind they use for county burials.” She paused. “By the way, I signed you up to bring a casserole.”
“A casserole?”
“Well, sure. Folks always bring casseroles to funerals, don’t they? For the family and friends to eat afterward. We’ll have a big party in the fellowship hall after we drop Busgy into the ground. I think I’ll drive through the Cluck ’n Stuff out on the parkway and pick up some chicken. They’ve got a special on dark meat.”
Steve closed his eyes, completely sure he must be imagining all this. When he opened them, Woody was standing beside Eula Mae, giving him the strangest look.
“You okay, Steve?” Woody asked.
“Just another day in Camelot.” Laughter rose up, and he didn’t even try to force it down.
Off in the distance, Amy called out his name. He waved in response. Her smile broadened and she waved back.
As he watched the woman he loved sprint down the center aisle toward him, Steve was struck by the most amazing thought. Maybe…just maybe…it wouldn’t be the last time he would see her coming down the aisle. Maybe next time he’d meet her at the altar, ready to carry her off on a white steed toward their real happily-ever-after.
Epilogue
I love acting, but it’s much more fun taking the kids to the zoo.
Nicole Kidman
Amy cleared the table, carrying the last of the dishes back into the kitchen. She didn’t care much for loading the dishwasher but would never think of complaining. Not with all the other joyous things going on in her life right now. She kicked off her shoes and stretched her aching feet. Ah. Much better.
“What did you think?” Steve asked, slipping up behind her. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“I always love it when Gwen and Jackson come over,” she said. “And you know I love a good game of Yahtzee.”
Her husband pulled her close and gazed into her eyes. “No, I mean, what did you think of the conversation we had?”
“About you running for Senate?” Her heart swelled with pride. She placed the last plate into the bottom rack and dried her hands then turned to face him. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. So…?”
Amy smiled, her heart overflowing. “I think it’s a fabulous idea. You’re such an amazing leader, Steve, and people really respect you. And I know your heart better than anyone else.”
“You do.” He kissed her on the brow and offered a smile.
“You want to make a difference in the world.”
Steve nodded, his eyes glistening.
“I can’t wait to see what the Lord does,” she whispered. “It’s going to be exciting.”
“Mom!” Seven-year-old Timmy’s voice rang out, interrupting their private moment. “Why did Uncle Jackson have to leave? We were going to play army.”
Amy turned to her son with a smile. “He and Aunt Gwen have to be up early in the morning. She has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Is she sick?”
“No, honey. They’re going to find out if their new baby is a girl or a boy.”
Timmy’s nose wrinkled. “Hope it’s a boy. Girls are so dumb.”
“I used to think that too, son,” Steve said, tousling his son’s hair. “But I was wrong.” He looked at Amy with such tenderness that it melted her heart. “On every conceivable level I was wrong.” Looking back at his son, he added, “Your mommy was my lady-in-waiting.”
“Lady-in-waiting?” Timmy shrugged. “What does that mean?
“It means she was worth waiting for. One day you’ll understand, trust me.”
Timmy didn’t look convinced.
“And your daddy is my knight-in-shining-armor,” Amy said, her heart rising to her throat. “My starry, starry knight.”
“What about me?’ Timmy asked. “Can I be a starry knight too?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Steve?” Amy looked her husband’s way with a grin. “Is Timmy old enough to accept the challenge?”
“I am! I am!” the youngster cried out.
“Are you ready to give your allegiance to the King?” Steve asked.
Timmy’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And are you ready to join with the other knights in service for the betterment of the kingdom?”
Timmy’s emphatic nod let them know he was. “I want to be in the play too.”
“Someday, son,” Amy said. “We’ll talk about that later.”
“And now, the most important question of all…” Steve leaned in close and whispered, “Are you willing to listen to Lady Guinevere when she tells you it’s time to turn out the lights and go to bed?”
“I guess.” Timmy groaned.
“Well, then…” Steve knelt beside him. “The time has come at last.” He put his hands on his son’s shoulders and spoke in a kingly voice. “I hereby knight you Sir Timothy Charles Garrison. From this point forth, you will carry out your Father’s orders, only going into battle as He leads. Understood?
“Yes, sir.” Timmy’s eyes grew wide.
“You will grow up and make a difference in your world.”
“Just like your father,” Amy threw in.
“And you will share the story of Camelot wherever you go.”
“The story of a King who led others with a kind and compassionate heart,” Amy added. “And who loved unconditionally.”
Steve looked her way, his eyes reflecting his joy.
“I’m a knight!” Timmy jumped up and down. “Finally!” He did a funny little dance around the room then stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Tell me the story of Camelot again,” the youngster begged. “I need to memorize it, so I can tell it like Grandpa does. He’s the best!”
“First, let’s get you into bed, young man,” Amy said. “Then you can have your story.”
“If I hafta…”
Amy followed behind him as he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Then he settled into his twin bed, the sheet twisted around his ankles. She knelt beside him.
“Now, Mom,” he implored, “tell the story.”
Amy nodded and drew a deep breath. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”
“How far?”
“Not as far as you might think,” Amy said as she pulled up the covers and tucked her son in for the night. “It was in a land of knights and castles, kings and queens.”
“The land of Camelot!” Timmy sat up in his bed, a childish giggle erupting.
“Yes, Camelot,” Steve said, entering the room. “A land where would-be kings shared a round table with ordinary men. Where knights-in-shining-armor would give their lives for a noble cause.”
“Why don’t you take over from here?” Amy said. She rubbed her expanded belly. “This little girl is tossing and turning, making it hard for me to stay down here on my knees.”
“Of course.” Her husband drew near their son’s bed and helped her stand. Amy settled into a spot near the door, watching as Steve eased his way down to sit on the side of the bed. He smiled in Timmy’s direction. “Are you sure you want to hear that same story, son? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“No way!” A smile lit the youngster’s face. “It’s the best story ever.”
“Okay, then.” Steve started at the very beginning. “Once there was a king named Arthur. He lived in a kingdom shrouded with mystery, one that even the best of storytellers could not do justice. He lived in the kingdom of
Camelot.”
“Camelot,” Timmy whispered. “Like our town.”
“Yes, Camelot.” Steve wove the tale from beginning to end, his voice carrying just the right amount of magical wonder to keep Timmy’s eyes wide. When he reached the end of the story—changing it slightly so that Arthur and Guinevere lived happily ever after—Timmy yawned.
“I like your version better than Grandpa’s.”
“Me too,” Amy said, drawing close. She joined her husband on the edge of the bed, taking his hand. “I’ve always been a sucker for a happily-ever-after story.”
“Me too,” Steve said then kissed her on the cheek.
“Does the story have to have kissing in it?” Timmy yanked the covers up over his head and groaned.
Amy pulled the covers off and kissed her son on the forehead. “Yes, it has to have kissing. Wouldn’t be much of a story without it.”
“I guess.” The youngster yawned once more.
Amy rose and walked over to the light switch. She flipped it, and the room fell into shadowy darkness. The tiny night-light at the foot of Timmy’s bed illuminated her husband’s face. Steve’s voice rose out of the mist, strong and secure as always, pulling her in as it had done all those years ago when he’d first stepped onto the stage as King Arthur.
“Don’t let it be forgot…”
“That once there was a spot…” Timmy chimed in.
“For one brief shining moment…”
Steve rose and took Amy by the hand. Together they whispered the words to end the beautiful tale….
“That was known as Camelot.”
Acknowledgments
To my choir and drama directors from Milligan College, 1977. Your willingness to place me in the fall production of Camelot as a lady-in-waiting changed my life and gave me the foundation for this story.
To my daughters and grandchildren. You are the true ladies-in-waiting and knights in this fairy tale that my life has become.
To my mom. Thanks for humoring me when I insisted upon driving through Camelot on our way out of Tennessee. That beautiful scenery is forever etched in my mind.
Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories Page 58