By one o’clock, the dining tent was filled to capacity and all the cakes and brownies were gone. On the north side of the parking lot, now the festival midway, Father Michael sold raffle tickets for a glittering, silver, late-model Chevrolet Malibu that had been donated by Jess Carpenter, owner of Indian Lake Motors. Though the Chevy was used, the chance to win a free car for only ten dollars a ticket was a big attraction. Sarah saw at least a dozen people gathered around Father Michael shoving ten-and twenty-dollar bills at him.
At Maddie Strong’s booth, cupcakes were selling fast. Sarah also heard Maddie taking orders for birthday parties and family reunions. Sarah smiled to herself, knowing that her friends were all benefiting from their generosity to her church. It was the way it was supposed to be, she thought.
“Miss Sarah!” Annie called out the moment Sarah entered the school hall. Annie rushed up to Sarah and nearly threw her arms around her. She stopped just short of knocking Sarah over. “I’m...I’m glad to see you,” Annie said, clearly putting the brakes on her emotions.
Sarah looked at Annie askance. She had the impression that Luke had warned his daughter not to be effusive with her. Maybe it was just her imagination. At the same time, Sarah saw a little girl who needed female guidance and appreciation. Annie needed Sarah and just the thought of that desire, innocent and guileless, made Sarah’s heart trip.
“Do you like my dress?” Annie asked with so much anticipation in her voice, she was breathless.
“I do,” Sarah said with an approving smile.
Annie twirled around and let the full skirt of the apple-green sundress fan out around her. Underneath the skirt, three layers of netting kept the skirt full. The bodice had a square neckline and was sleeveless. There was a thick band of red satin around the neck and a wide, red, satin sash at the waist. Annie’s shimmering hair was tied up in a ponytail with another red satin ribbon.
“Is it new?” Sarah asked.
“Oh, no. It’s the last dress my mother bought for me. She found it at a garage sale and even though it was too big back then, she said I would grow into it. And I did!”
“Yes, you did.”
“She was very smart, wasn’t she?” Annie said, holding out the skirt and looking down at the red satin around the hem.
Sarah knew the little girl was remembering her mother and all the love they must have shared.
Sarah put her fingertips under Annie’s chin and lifted it.
“She would be so proud of you, Annie. Today is your day, and when you get up there on that stage, you sing your best for your mother. She would want you to do that.”
“Yes, Miss Sarah. She always liked to hear me sing.”
“Remember, if you get nervous, you just look at me. I’ll be standing in the wings and will give you a cue if you need one.”
“And my dad will be up front,” Annie added. “He’s already got a seat.”
“Really?” Sarah swallowed hard.
“He said he was going to mark it. But he was also going to help Mr. Abbott for a while, too.”
“That’s good,” Sarah assured Annie. “Now, where is Timmy? I want to go over his lines.”
“In the bathroom,” Annie said and then motioned for Sarah to lean down very close. Annie cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered in Sarah’s ear. “He’s really nervous, but he doesn’t want you to know.”
“Poor thing. Does he know his lines?”
“Oh, yes. Backward and forward. And his song is great. It’s just that his hat keeps falling off and he doesn’t want to look like a dork.”
“I’d better see to this.”
Sarah and Annie walked toward the men’s restroom. There were kids everywhere, going in and out of the restrooms and classrooms, running up the halls and down the stairs. They yelled for their parents and they squealed with the kind of nervous anticipation that children always held for events they just knew they would never forget.
Sarah caught their storm of preshow jitters. Suddenly, it hit her that her name was on the program alongside Debra La Pointe. People would expect a great deal from her. Despite the fact that this was just a children’s pageant, she also knew audiences had a tendency to compare even the most amateur performances against those of seasoned and very talented professionals. Sarah swallowed her anxiety and felt her stomach roil. For the first time in her life, maybe she really had taken a too-large bite of this apple.
Sarah had also arranged for a small contingent of the Indian Lake High School Band to play for the pageant. As the folding chairs filled up with parents, friends and tourists, the band played the George M. Cohan Fourth of July favorite, “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”
Before the song was finished, every chair had been filled. Sarah noticed that more people came and stood in long lines; some sat on the ground. Mothers held babies and fathers hoisted toddlers onto their shoulders to see over the crowd.
Chills played tag up and down Sarah’s back as she stood behind the roll-drop canvas curtain she and Mary Catherine had painted with Valley Forge scenes, an impressionistic version of John Trumbull’s famous painting of The Signing of the Declaration of Independence, and Sarah’s own depiction of Paul Revere’s famous ride.
The Children’s Choir assembled in the center of the stage and began the program with “The Star-Spangled Banner.” When the children finished, they left the stage with proper decorum following Sarah’s instruction.
Sarah and Mary Catherine rushed onto the stage and placed a cardboard picket fence, pots of fake flowers and a large cardboard Boston Colonial housefront. Mary Catherine placed a white wooden rocking chair next to the flowerpots.
Next onstage were two children inside a much-rented horse costume. Their entrance, with much neighing and clomping of hooves, elicited uproarious laughter from the audience.
Timmy, dressed in period clothing and his tricorn hat, walked confidently to the center of the stage. He was joined by two other boys in similar costume.
The gist of the story was that Timmy’s parents were Revolutionary sympathizers and were great friends of Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin. The other two boys were from Tory families and had been instructed by their parents not to associate with Timmy’s character ever again.
The three boys had been friends all their lives and they were coming to grips with the fact that their parents’ politics were not merely points of view, but had created pain and loss. Their world was changing and they were helpless to do anything about it.
Timmy’s character, who was the youngest, did not understand why the other boys would be loyal to a king they had never met and who would not come to America to lead them. Timmy’s heartbreak was evident when the boys told him that he would not be allowed into their house again.
Timmy stood forlorn and sad-faced, outside the cardboard Colonial house and sang a new, short song written by Debra about lost friends. The pathos in Timmy’s little boy’s voice was wrenching.
Through Timmy’s character, the story revealed the plight of every child who had ever been placed in a situation where they became the victims of their parents’ political decisions. It was always the children who lived with the results...good or bad.
Just as she’d been in rehearsal, Sarah was deeply moved by Timmy’s obvious passion for his role. He’d always been good, but today he left her breathless. She had witnessed Annie’s rare talent, but this was a surprise. A very happy surprise, she thought. When Timmy finished the last notes and walked off the stage, a hush fell over the audience.
Luke, Lester and Mrs. Beabots applauded loudly. Suddenly, dozens of people rose from their chairs and gave Timmy a standing ovation. Louise Railton put her fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to break eardrums. Father Michael clapped so hard his arthritic hands would need a warming balm and bandages, but he didn’t care.
In the wings, Sara
h grabbed Timmy by the shoulders, “Go back out there and take a bow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
Timmy ran onto the stage and with his very practiced flourish, gave the audience a deep bow. The spectators continued their shouts and applause until Timmy left the stage again.
The rest of the play never sagged. The children had rehearsed their parts perfectly. Not one child forgot his or her lines. The only mishap was when the horse knocked over the picket fence. Sarah felt a flush of pride warm her entire body as she watched child after child execute their roles. There were tears in her eyes when Annie stood beside her and waited for her cue from the band.
Annie took center stage dressed in a white, floor-length dress that had a navy blue tulle overskirt on which Sarah had tacked silver stars and red sequins. In her hair was a crown of white daisies with red, white and blue ribbons falling down her back.
Annie belted out “God Bless America” with a voice as strong as Kate Smith ever hoped to have. Hearing a full-fledged adult voice emanate from a little eight-year-old girl once again prodded the audience out of their chairs and onto their feet with shouts of “Bravo!” and “More!”
Sarah grabbed Mary Catherine and hugged her. “They were wonderful!”
“I saw people texting halfway through the show,” Sarah continued. “It’s my bet that the reporter over there for the Indian Lake newspaper is going to give the children a glowing review.”
The kids congratulated each other, slapping one another on the back. Sarah and Mary Catherine embraced again. “I’m glad it’s over, I’ll tell you,” Mary Catherine said.
“So am I,” Sarah agreed.
The parents rushed toward the stage and called out to their respective children. The band continued playing the theme of the play, which was the song Timmy had sung.
Timmy looked up at Sarah just as Luke walked up. “Miss Sarah, do you think I’ll be famous now?”
Sarah caught Luke’s smiling eyes as he came to stand next to her. “Probably not,” she said to Timmy. “It might take a bit more effort on your part.”
“Aw, shucks. I was hopin’...”
“Timmy, even if you were famous, it wouldn’t last long,” Luke said. “You would have to create a performance that was even greater than what you did here today.”
Timmy’s mouth gaped open. “What? I have to do it again?”
“Uh-huh.”
Timmy looked down at his tricorn hat. “Those guys had to fight really hard to make a democracy for us. So I guess if I have to work hard, it’s okay.”
Luke’s shoulders hitched with an intake of breath. “I’ve never been as proud of you as I am at this minute, Timmy.” Luke knelt down and gathered his son into his arms and hugged him close.
Just then, a middle-aged man wearing black jeans and a black golf shirt, carrying a camera case and an iPad walked up to Annie. “Congratulations, young lady,” he said with a toothy grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone as good as you are.”
Luke stood up instantly and approached the man. “Can I help you?”
The man gave Luke a once-over and smiled even more broadly—if that was possible. “You must be Mr. Bosworth. I’m Alan Freeman. I’m from the Chicago Tribune. I got called out to this gig at the last minute, but I have to tell you, I’m glad I took the assignment. Your daughter is amazing.”
Wariness filled Luke’s eyes as he took Alan’s hand. “I think so.”
Alan looked over at Annie, who was standing next to Sarah, watching the exchange. “I came out to Indian Lake thinking I was just going to cover the parade and then do a little piece on this fund-raiser you folks have going on here, but I have to say, Annie knocked my socks off. I videoed her performance. She could really have an awesome career ahead of her. How long has she been studying?”
“She hasn’t,” Luke replied tersely.
“You mean that’s—” Alan looked over at Annie, who was now holding Sarah’s hand “—that’s natural talent. No formal training?”
“No training,” Luke said.
Alan took out his business card and handed it to Luke. “I’m going to write a spectacular article about Annie. Trust me. But there’s something else I should mention. Every December there’s a huge talent show in Chicago. It’s underwritten by several universities in town, the papers and dozens of businesses. I’m going to nominate Annie as my choice for the show. All the prizes are scholarships—formal training at ballet, music and acting schools. It’s a wonderful opportunity for the kids,” Alan said excitedly.
Luke handed Alan his card back. “I didn’t give you permission to write about my daughter. I don’t want her mentioned in your article. And no nominations for talent shows. Understand?”
“Actually, no. But that’s your prerogative.” Alan glanced back at Annie, shrugged and said, “Sorry, kid.”
Alan walked away.
Annie glared at her father. “You won’t let him write about me?”
“You’re too young for all this nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. It’s what I want. I want to sing. I want to be onstage making people smile when they hear me sing my songs!”
Luke moved toward Annie, but she dropped Sarah’s hand and stepped back several feet. “You don’t want me to do anything because Mom isn’t here. It isn’t fair!”
Annie ran away from them and into the school. Timmy followed after her, yelling her name.
Luke raked his hair with his fingers. “She’s too young for a life like that. And the entertainment world eats those kids up and spits them out when it’s done with them. That’s not the life I want for my daughter.”
Sarah could almost see the pain in Luke’s heart. “I understand, Luke. I do. Right now she has a dozen emotions going on—from the exhilaration of the audience applause to the fact that a major newspaper wanted to write about her performance.”
“And I just invalidated all that for her by sending the journalist away.”
“Pretty much. But you have a real point, Luke. Annie is too sweet and so perfect just the way she is to be swallowed up by that kind of big business. And that’s what it is. They’re capable of eating full-grown adults, body and soul, if they see even a fleck of talent. Annie’s talent is limitless. Honestly, a few years of boring, rigorous, disciplined training might take the bloom off the rose for her.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, and then looked off to the school building where Annie had disappeared.
“Listen, I have to help Aunt Emily and Uncle George in the food tent.”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” he said and walked toward the school.
Sarah hoped Luke and Annie would find a compromise that would be the best for them both.
Sarah continued her rounds of all the booths as the sun set and the lights on the Ferris wheel grew brighter against the darkening sky. The dinner tent was sold out of food before seven-thirty, and yet there were still crowds of people coming by. Word had traveled around town and the lake area that a good time was being had over at St. Mark’s. Luke helped Uncle George break down the food tent. Timmy helped Aunt Emily clean up the garbage. Annie made herself scarce, spending a great deal of her time in Maddie Strong’s booth. Both Sarah and Luke kept the kids in plain sight while they went about their duties and chores.
* * *
tHE FESTIVAL WAS officially over at ten o’clock, and the Ferris wheel was going to make one last pass before closing down. Luke saw Sarah at Isabelle Hawks’s art booth and went over to her.
“I have it on good authority that if we hustle, we can ride this last go around on the Ferris wheel free of charge.”
“I promised Isabelle I’d help put her paintings away,” Sarah said, glancing at her friend with soft pleading in her eyes.
Isabelle winked at Luke. “I’ve got this, Sarah. You deserve some fun after all your hard work.”
Luke held out his hand to Sarah. “I want to thank you for what you did for Annie.”
She looked at his hand, then up at Luke. “You’re welcome. I think. Is she speaking to you yet?”
“Not yet,” Luke replied, reaching his fingers toward hers.
She placed her hand inside his palm. She didn’t know what she expected, but she didn’t expect to experience an odd zing of excitement, nearly a thrill, when they touched. He had big, rough, strong hands that felt as if they could build a skyscraper or move a mountain. They were hands that bathed his children and tucked them in at night. Hands that drew fanciful art designs for her festival and hands that now beckoned her to join him for a simple ride on a Ferris wheel.
Holding Luke’s hand bombarded Sarah with a myriad of emotions. For so long, she had not dared to consider him even a friend. He was too volatile. He was too closed off, too within himself. But that had changed the night of the session with Carla and Jarod. Sarah was drawn to Luke despite the danger and the risk. She knew he’d loved his wife so deeply that not even death had diminished his devotion. But could he love again? Could he love her?
There was no question that Sarah had fallen in love with his children.
Tonight, she felt another shift in her relationship with Luke. There was a sense of calm about him that hadn’t existed before. But Sarah was mystified as to whether he was the one changing or if it was her. Had her new awareness of her feelings for him caused this transformation?
Touching him and walking with him, matching her gait to his, oddly, she felt safe. She suddenly felt protected by this man she’d slowly come to know in his pain and anger and through observing his struggle to demonstrate his deep love for his children.
Love Shadows Page 18