Dayne felt his eyes grow wet and he cursed himself. He’d cried more today than in all his life combined. The scene onstage ended and after a few more minutes the play came to a close. At that point the entire cast filled the stage, took a bow, and began shouting, “Katy . . . Katy . . . Katy . . .”
The houselights came on and Dayne kept his face hidden by the bill of his cap. The kids onstage were relentless, grinning and waving and shouting at this Katy person, whoever that was.
After a few minutes, a young woman sprinted down the side aisle and up the stairs onto the stage. The kids in costume circled her, jumping up and down and calling her name. Finally, when they settled back to their places, she motioned for them to quiet down, and they did.
When she faced the audience, Dayne felt his breath catch in his throat. She was gorgeous. Fresh-faced with layered blonde hair and blue eyes that shone even from where he was sitting.
“Hi, everyone.” She waved and shaded her eyes, trying to see the audience past the bright lights. “I’m Katy Hart, director of Christian Kids Theater. Let’s hear it for the kids who made our first show such a success!”
The crowd clapped wildly, bigger than Dayne had heard crowds clap at the Academy Awards. They rose to their feet and clapped some more until Katy motioned for them to sit down.
Dayne couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven, with the sort of beauty Hollywood had forgotten about. If she wore makeup, it wasn’t much. She had on jeans, a silky pale blue blouse, and a black fitted blazer. But nothing about her shape or her looks compared with the glow on her face.
Katy Hart loved what she was doing. That much was obvious.
She was about kids and acting and making magic happen on the stage. No multimega contracts, no autograph seekers, no fame or fortune. Community theater . . . teaching kids about acting, and that was enough.
It hit him then, exactly what he was looking at.
If he’d been raised in the Baxter family, he might’ve been working right alongside her. Maybe they would be friends or lovers. Maybe she would’ve become his wife. His heart felt strange, as vast and empty as the Grand Canyon. Yes, perhaps this would’ve been his life, the one he would’ve lived if Elizabeth’s parents hadn’t sent her away when she came home pregnant.
He’d been robbed of a normal lifestyle, a loving family, a brother and four sisters, and now this. The chance at a normal life with a beautiful girl who would never see her name in lights, a life that certainly would’ve filled the emptiness inside him.
As he slipped out of the theater, as he made his way back to the rented SUV and headed for the freeway, he remembered something Elizabeth had said: “Find your faith, Dayne . . . find your faith.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Why bother? God—if there was a God—had left him out of the life he would’ve loved. He’d been given a window to all he might’ve had, but no door to get to it. And God had allowed it to happen.
Elizabeth was wrong. He didn’t need faith; he needed a family.
And one day—even if it took a decade to figure it out—he would find them again and tell them who he was. One day when he was washed up in the business, when the paparazzi no longer cared about who he was or what business he might have in Bloomington, Indiana.
Until then, he would work and carry on the best he knew how. Carried by the memories of his family as they walked toward him in the hospital parking lot; his birth mother holding him in her arms, telling him she had never stopped thinking about him, never stopped loving him.
And the memory of a small-town girl named Katy Hart, who represented everything he had missed out on along the way.
* * *
Katy saw him from the stage, saw him sitting in the back row watching the last part of the show. This was closing night of their first play, and the guests in attendance were family members and friends of the theater troupe.
Strangers stood out, especially strangers who showed up near the end of the play and left after ten minutes.
The strike party was about to begin. Katy had a dozen kids tugging on her, asking her questions about the awards and the strikes—silly spoofs on the play that the kids wanted to perform. Tim, the teenager who had played Charlie Brown, brought his guitar for the event. He was going to lead them in a few worship songs before they got started with the silliness of the evening.
But Katy couldn’t get the stranger from the back row out of her head.
She’d seen him somewhere before, but where? Was he an uncle, maybe? Someone affiliated with the Arts Center or the university? She was about to forget the whole thing, when Rhonda— the dance instructor—came running up.
“Can you believe it? Did you see him?”
Katy searched her friend’s face. “Who?”
“Dayne Matthews!” Rhonda took hold of her shoulders. “He was here; I promise!” She pointed to the back row. “He sat right there for ten minutes and watched the end of the play.”
Dayne Matthews? The famous actor? The Hollywood playboy who had dated almost every one of his leading ladies? No wonder he looked familiar. But the guy couldn’t have been Dayne Matthews. “It wasn’t him.” She turned and headed back to the stage.
Rhonda stayed close by her side. “It was. Bethany followed him out when he left. She called his name and he turned around.” Rhonda did a few jumps and a bell kick. “Dayne Matthews came and saw our play! Who’d have thought?”
Katy was needed onstage. She held up her hand, stopping further conversation about famous actors coming into the Bloomington community theater building. Tim was already onstage with his guitar, warmed up and ready to sing.
The group of parents and kids involved in CKT was amazing. Dozens of families who had come together to help get the theater troupe off the ground, and who were thrilled that their children had a chance to explore the arts in a Christian environment. Katy had never felt more full in all her life.
People took their seats, and a silence fell over them. Tim—a talented fifteen-year-old with a gift for leadership and a heart for God—led them in prayer. “Lord, thank you for letting us finish our first show. Thank you for Katy and for a Christian theater group in Bloomington. . . .” He kept on, praying about the performance and asking that it might have been a light to the community.
But as he prayed, Katy began her own private conversation with God. Lord . . . Dayne Matthews? Here in Bloomington? If it was him, God, then maybe you brought him by for a reason. Let him find that reason, God. And bring him back if you can use our group to touch him.
A gentle breeze stirred in her soul.
Daughter, you will see him again. I know the plans I have for him and your place in those plans.
The response rippled through her, making her tremble inside. Once in a while when she prayed, she could feel God answer, practically hear his voice. But this time the answer was more specific, as if maybe God really had a plan to bring Dayne Matthews back to their theater.
The idea was crazy, but the things of God often were.
She let the thought pass and tuned back in to Tim’s prayer.
“And so, God, bless Katy and CKT and everything about our group. And most of all make your purpose known to all of us involved. Especially Katy. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
* * *
John had taken the call while they were all still at the Baxter house. Elizabeth wasn’t feeling well; her vitals weren’t as strong as they’d been earlier. He told the kids, and the group gave hurried instructions to the babysitters and left.
Now they were back at the hospital, and Elizabeth was barely conscious.
Dr. Steinman met them in the hallway and pulled John aside. “It could be anytime, John.” He shook his head. “She was doing well an hour ago, when Luke was in with her, but she’s taken a turn for the worse.”
“Luke?” John glanced at his kids and their spouses, standing a ways from him. “Luke was with us for the past two hours.”
Dr. Steinma
n made a face. “That’s strange. The nurse said Luke was sitting by her side for the past hour.” He lifted one shoulder. “Anyway, the point is she’s getting worse.” He hesitated. “I don’t think she’ll make it through the night.”
The truth suffocated John like a plastic bag. He had so much left to tell her, so much more to talk about. Everything about the moment felt stilted and robotic, as if his body knew how to go through the motions, even if his heart didn’t.
He pulled his kids together—all five of them and their spouses—and one at a time he met their eyes. “Your mother is leaving us.” Tears came, but his voice stayed steady, on some type of autopilot John hadn’t known he possessed.
“You mean now?” The question came from Luke, and even before John could answer, his son was taking steps toward Elizabeth’s room.
“Yes.” John held out his arms, and all of them formed a group hug. “Dr. Steinman says it could be tonight.”
It was time for good-byes, and John organized it as best he could. “I’ll sit on the far side of her bed, and each of you take a turn visiting with her. One couple at a time, okay?”
There were tears and quiet nods of approval. The kids clung to their spouses as John entered the room first. Elizabeth’s mouth was open. Her chest rose several inches with each inhalation, proof that her lungs were filling up, that death was at hand.
“Elizabeth.” He took her fingers in his and searched her face. “We’re here, honey.”
She opened her eyes, and after a few seconds recognition filled her face. “John . . . you came.”
“The kids want to talk to you, okay?”
He released her hand, circled around the bed, and took hold of her other arm. Brooke and Peter were the first in. Peter said hello and then stood back while Brooke took her place near Elizabeth.
“Mom . . . I love you.”
“Brooke.” Elizabeth’s face was pale, but she had her wits about her. Her words came slowly, with much effort. “Don’t be sad. We’ll all be together again. The greatest reunion of all, okay?”
“I’m going to miss you so much. Hayley’s going to miss you; you always take such good care of her.”
“I’ll never stop praying for her.” A smile tugged at Elizabeth’s eyes. “I have a feeling . . . she’s going to be okay.”
Brooke nodded, too choked up to speak.
“You’re a wonderful mother, Brooke. I know . . . I know you doubted that after Hayley’s accident. But don’t.” She coughed, but the effort was so weak it barely made a sound.
“Mom . . .” Brooke hugged her, placed her cheek against Elizabeth’s.
John wiped at his eyes and memorized the scene.
“I love you, Brooke.” Elizabeth’s words were muffled because of their embrace.
“You’ll never know how much you taught me.”
Brooke said good-bye, stood, and touched Elizabeth’s cheek once more. Then she turned and fell against Peter. He led her from the room, and after a few seconds, Erin and Sam entered the room.
The scene repeated itself over and over again. Ashley and Landon were last. Landon took hold of Elizabeth’s hand. “You’re a special woman; the things you’ve brought this family will live on long after you’re gone.”
Elizabeth gave him a weak smile. “Thank you, Landon. I’m so glad you didn’t give up on Ashley. She needed you. She always will.”
“I know.” Landon’s eyes were watery. He stepped back and Ashley took his place.
“Mom . . . how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” She gave a slow shake of her head. “No pain. Just in here.” Her fingers rested above her heart. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I . . .” Ashley dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t want to say good-bye, Mom. I don’t know how.”
“You don’t have to, honey.” She took Ashley’s hand and brought it to her lips. “We’ll be together again; this is just a so long.”
“But it’s too long.” Ashley hung her head before looking at Elizabeth again. “I was your black sheep.” She sniffed and struggled for the words. “But you never gave up on me.”
“That’s what real love is about, Ash.” Elizabeth looked past her to Landon. “But you already know that now.”
“Yes. I’m beginning to understand.”
“Ashley . . .”
“Yes?” Her tears splashed on Elizabeth’s hospital gown.
“Don’t let Cole forget me, okay?”
“No one will ever forget you, Mom. You and Dad were the reason everything turned out okay.”
“And God most of all.”
“And God.” Ashley smiled through her tears. “Of course, God.”
“You know what I want to do when I get to heaven?”
John felt a wave of sobs building inside him, but he kept strong, letting Ashley have her moment.
“What’s that?” Ashley lowered herself closer.
“I want to start planning the next reunion. The one that will last forever and ever.”
“Oh, Mom.” Ashley hugged her. When she pulled back, the sorrow in her eyes wasn’t as heartbreaking as before. As if maybe Elizabeth’s words had eased some of the pain. “I can tell you one thing; we’ll all be there.”
* * *
Finally, he was alone with her.
The kids had all had their turns, and Ashley informed him of their plans. They were going back home to be with the children, and he was to call them if anything changed.
He took the better chair, the one closer to her bed. Every breath was a struggle, and the rattle was worse than before. Dr. Steinman was right; she didn’t have long before she left them.
“Elizabeth . . .”
“Mmmm.” She opened her eyes, and despite her condition, a knowing look shone through. “I’m not doing too well, am I?”
John smiled. He wanted to be strong, wanted to enjoy this last time with her. The grieving could come later. “You’re doing fine.”
She swallowed, and the effort made her wince. “I have . . . to tell you something, John.”
“Okay.” He cradled her arm against his chest, wishing he could cuddle up next to her but knowing she was too weak for that.
Her eyes opened wider than before. “I met him; I met our firstborn.” She searched his eyes. She looked more lucid than she had all afternoon. “His name is Dayne.”
John felt his stomach drop. What had the doctor said? Something about his son being here, sitting by Elizabeth’s side for the past hour? It was impossible, wasn’t it? Wherever their oldest son was, he never could’ve found them now, on Elizabeth’s dying day. “Honey, what are you saying?”
“He came here, John.” She sank back into the pillow and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she looked confused again. “Unless it was a dream.”
A dream. That had to be it. John felt himself relax. “Tell me about it.”
“He was handsome, a lot like Luke. He said he was an actor, John. And that his parents were dead and he has no brothers or sisters.” Her words were slurring and she struggled to keep her eyes open. “It didn’t feel like a dream until the end. I thought he said he’d come back tomorrow.”
An understanding passed over John. It wasn’t a dream; it was the pain medications. Hallucinations were common for people dying of cancer, especially at the end. The combination of the body shutting down and the medications made people hear and see things that defied explanation.
That was obviously what had happened to Elizabeth. An actor named Dayne? She must’ve been thinking about Dayne Matthews, the man Luke had met at his office. Somehow bits and pieces of the past few weeks had come together to give her the impression she’d met him and that he was her son.
She was definitely hallucinating.
“I’m glad you met him, honey. That’s what you prayed about.” He decided to go along with her, so that these last few moments they had together wouldn’t upset her. “Thanks for telling me.”
Her eyes opened big again. “Do you
think I’m crazy, John?”
“Not at all.” He thought of the doctor’s words again. That someone had been in with her for the past hour. Probably someone from church, maybe even Pastor Mark. “I’m sure he came by, and I’m glad. Maybe I’ll meet him when he comes back.”
“Yes.” A wonderful peace came over her expression. “That would be nice.”
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
“Very tired.”
John’s mind raced. He still had so much to tell her. Ten years’ worth of things at least. “You know what I wish?”
“What?” She looked at him, and despite the sickness and the medication and the exhaustion she was feeling, it was the same look she’d given him at the University of Michigan mixer, the same look she’d given him a thousand times since. A look of love that would stay with him even after she was gone.
“I wish—” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it—“I wish I could go with you.”
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “The kids need you, John. Besides . . .” A choking sound came from her, and she waited until she’d caught her breath. “God wants me to go ahead and help get things ready.”
“For what, sweet Elizabeth?”
“For what?” Her smile was timeless, one he would keep with him always. “For the greatest reunion ever.”
“I love you.” He’d told her that every day, several times a day, since the August morning when they married. But here, in her last moments, he couldn’t say it enough.
“I’ll never really leave you, John.” Each word was an effort. “You know that, right?”
“I know.” He held her hand to his heart again. “You’ll be right here, woven into the center of all I am.”
“That’s not all.” Her eyes shone. “I’ll be in Cole’s grin and Jessie’s silly dance steps and Tommy’s bright blue eyes. You’ll see me in Erin’s mothering and Ashley’s artwork and Luke’s determination to do right.” She exhaled and the rattle echoed through the room. “You’ll feel me when you hold Maddie’s hand and when any of them gives you a hug.” She paused, gathering her strength. “If you listen, you’ll hear me in Kari’s laughter and Hayley’s gentle cooing and Brooke’s moments alone at the piano. I’ll be there, John. I’ll always be there.”
Reunion Page 34