Their father closed his eyes for a few seconds and then exhaled long and deep before opening them again. “At least she remembers where her grandma’s picture books are.”
Kari stood up and gave Ashley a sad look, one that said she’d been wrong to bring up the subject with their father sitting there. “Anyway, I better make sure she’s not messing up the whole bookcase.”
With Kari out of the room, Ashley went to her father and knelt near his feet. She ran her fingers over little Ryan’s head. “I remember when Cole was this small.”
“Me too.” Her father sniffed, and a tear fell onto his cheek. “Your mother loved Cole like he was her own son.”
“I know.” Ashley uttered a sad laugh. “After I came back from Paris, alone and pregnant, I always thought she loved Cole more than me.”
“That was never the case.” Her father put his hand on her shoulder. “She understood you, Ashley. She . . .” He struggled, almost as if there was something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure he should say it. “Well, she always understood you. You were special to her.”
“Dad, what were you going to say?”
“Nothing.” His answer was quick this time. “I just don’t want you to ever doubt your mother’s love for you.”
Kari and Jessie were returning from the old bookcase in the living room. Ashley could hear Jessie talking about orange kitty cats and striped tails in a happy singsong.
Ashley searched her father’s eyes for a few more seconds. Whatever he’d been about to say, it was lost now. She looked at the baby and then up at her father again. “I miss her so much, Dad.”
He nodded; then his chin quivered. He brought the back of his hand first to one eye, then the other. “Sometimes—” He stopped, his voice strained. Most of his face was hidden by his hand, so when he spoke again he was barely audible. “Sometimes I miss her so much . . . I can barely breathe.”
Ashley stood up, bent close to her father, and hugged him. There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do. Kari and Jessie were back now, and Ashley gave Kari a familiar look, one that told her their father was hurting, but he’d be okay.
As Ashley bid them both good-bye and drove home to Landon and Cole, she let the tears come. Tears because it was unbearable seeing her strong father, the invincible Dr. Baxter, so broken he could barely speak. Tears because her mother would never sit in the audience and watch Tom Sawyer, knowing her formerly rebellious daughter had actually painted the set. Tears because little Jessie didn’t remember her grandma anymore. But most of all tears because the look she’d given Kari was true. One day they would all be okay again.
And maybe that was the saddest part of all.
Dayne was alone at his Malibu house trying to get into an old Barbra Streisand movie when his phone rang. Mitch Henry had promised to call the minute he had news, so Dayne grabbed the phone and clicked the On button.
“Dayne, it’s Mitch.” He hesitated. “She’s coming.”
“She is?” Dayne was on his feet. “Are you serious?” He paced to the back patio door, stared at the ocean for a few seconds, and headed back to the sofa. All the while Mitch was giving him details. “Hey, wait.” Dayne froze. “You didn’t mention my name, did you?”
“Not once.”
“You sure? Not once?”
“Dayne, she’d never even heard of the movie.” He breathed out a short laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. She’s probably never heard of you either.”
“Ouch.” Dayne set his feet in motion once more, walking from the sofa and back to the patio door again. “So she’s really coming?”
“Yes, but, Matthews, you sure you got the right girl?” Mitch sounded hesitant. “I sweet-talked her like you said, but she’s not like any actress I’ve ever talked to. She kept asking the same thing.”
“What?” Dayne felt tingly and alive. Katy Hart was coming to Hollywood for an audition. How great was that? He tuned back into the conversation. “What’d she keep asking?”
“If it was a mistake, a joke.” He laughed, but it sounded more sarcastic than funny. “Real confident girl, Matthews. Oughta be fantastic on film.”
Dayne ignored that last comment. He didn’t care what Mitch Henry thought. Katy was perfect for the part; they’d all see that soon enough. “She’s coming Sunday, right?”
“Sunday, yes.” He paused. “We’re putting her up at the Sheraton and getting her a ride to the studio in the morning. Her reading’s at nine o’clock, okay? You happy, Matthews?”
“I am.” He chuckled but kept it quiet so Mitch wouldn’t hear him. “I’ve seen the tape on her, Mitch. She’s the real deal.”
“Innocent, right?”
“As a baby.”
Mitch drew a long breath. “I’ve done my job. Whatever it takes to keep you happy.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?” Mitch sounded tired, bored of the conversation.
“You’re forgetting that I’m doing this to keep you happy too.” Dayne returned to the sofa and sat back down. “I’m telling you, Mitch, you’ll love her.”
“I’d love to get the film cast. That’s what I’d love.”
After another minute, the conversation ended, and Dayne set the phone back down on the coffee table. Wow. Had it been that easy? Learning everything about Katy Hart’s background, finding out where she was living, and getting her to agree to an audition?
In two days, Katy Hart—a girl he hadn’t been able to forget since his brief, secretive visit to a community theater—would stand before him and read for a role starring opposite him in a major motion picture.
Dayne closed his eyes for a minute. He had to keep her from the paparazzi, and that meant one thing. She couldn’t be seen alone with him. A girl coming to DreamFilms Studio for a reading wasn’t enough to get their attention. But a no-name children’s theater director from Bloomington, Indiana, coming to Hollywood at the sole request of Dayne Matthews?
That story would make the cover.
No, he couldn’t be seen with her, and that was okay. He wasn’t interested in her, not really. He just wanted the chance to star in a film with her. Someone raw and talented, untainted by the Hollywood life. Acting with her would take him back to his college days, back when acting was something that grew from the center of his soul and consumed him.
He already knew he’d love her on camera, love the fresh look of her face, the innocence in her eyes. But there was one small problem. He hadn’t been completely honest with Mitch Henry. He didn’t really know everything about Katy Hart, just most things. The missing part took place in Chicago when Katy suddenly stopped attending auditions and switched careers.
Depending on her reasons and whatever happened to her back in Chicago, the possibility existed that maybe Katy Hart hadn’t missed her break into the industry. Maybe she’d walked away from it on purpose. Dayne opened his eyes, leaned back into the sofa, and stared at the vaulted ceiling. That wasn’t possible, was it? Every other girl he’d met in the business had wanted the same thing. A chance to be famous, to see her face and name in lights—wasn’t that it? But then, that was the only thing that worried Dayne the rest of the night and throughout the next day while he counted down the hours until Katy’s visit.
Katy Hart wasn’t any other girl.
Katy changed her outfit three times before taking the elevator down to the lobby where her escort would meet her.
The part was starring opposite the lead in a romantic comedy about a small-town girl with dreams of making it as a big-time magazine writer in New York City. Katy had packed an entire suitcase of possibilities so she wouldn’t be limited. By six that morning she was showered and staring at her choices.
She’d been taught in film classes that a person should dress the part as much as possible, so her first thought had been jeans and a scoop-necked T-shirt. But after she was dressed she remembered Mitch Henry telling her that for most of the film the female lead would be in Manhattan. And that meant a differ
ent look altogether. So she switched to black pants and a short blazer.
But by the time she had her blazer buttoned, she felt stiff and overdressed and much too hot for Los Angeles in late June.
In the end she chose something middle of the road—khaki pants and a yellow cotton blouse—an outfit she was comfortable in. Not that it mattered. The whole idea of flying to Los Angeles for a reading was so strange, Katy still expected someone to show up at her hotel room and tell her it was all a joke.
And if that didn’t happen, then surely DreamFilms had more experienced actresses lined up for the part. She must’ve been more of an oddity, someone to compare the others to. Or maybe the call came because she actually lived in a small town. Maybe they wanted their top choice to see what a small-town girl looked like, and that’s why they brought her in.
Katy didn’t know, but there had to be some reason, something that would come to light at the interview. She took a seat in the lobby and waited until a guy in black jeans and a lightweight black turtleneck approached her. “Miss Hart?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Greg, a gofer over at DreamFilms.” He smiled and shook her hand. “I’ve been asked to take you to the studio.”
“So it’s not a joke?” Katy fell in step beside Greg as they walked to a silver SUV parked just outside the door.
“Nope, it’s not a joke.” Greg opened her door, then went around and climbed into the driver’s side. “In fact, as breaks go, I’d say this is one of the biggest I’ve seen.”
They made small talk on the way to the studio, and the whole time Katy felt like she was playing a part in a play. Because this wasn’t her life, being driven to a major motion picture studio so she could read for a lead part in an upcoming film. It was the life she once dreamed of having, back when she was in Chicago.
But when she left that world, she told herself it was behind her. God had taken her out, and God would have to get her back into it if she was ever to act in another film. And now that’s exactly what had happened. God had opened a door, and she was willing to walk tentatively through it.
Even if she felt like she was pretending with every step.
The driver led Katy to an office, where she met Mitch Henry.
“Did you look up the film on the Internet?” Mitch sat on the corner of his desk and studied her. “I figured you would.”
“No, sir.” Katy had meant to. But the only Internet access she had was at the Flanigan house, and things still felt strange between Jenny and Bailey and her. Instead, she’d spent all her time picking out the right clothes and talking to Rhonda on the phone about how this audition could’ve possibly come up. She shifted in her seat. “I only know what you told me.”
“Well . . .” He crossed his arms and leveled his gaze at Katy. He reached into his desk and handed her a few script pages stapled together. “You’ll be reading from this. I’ll give you a few minutes to get familiar with the scene, but then you’ll be meeting me and the male lead in the room down the hall.”
“The male lead?” Katy had no idea who it was.
“Yes.” Mr. Henry paused. “Dayne Matthews. He was cast months ago. He’ll be in the room, but only behind a desk. Today’s read is all about you, darling.” He hesitated again, studying her. “Any questions?”
“No, sir.” Katy had a hundred, but her mind was swirling too fast to verbalize any of them.
“Okay, then, I’ll be down the hall with Dayne. We’ll look for you in a few minutes.” Mitch Henry left the room and closed the door behind him.
Katy realized she was trembling, and she exhaled. Dayne Matthews? He was the lead? Mr. Henry probably expected her to be excited—starstruck even. But all she could think about was that strange night a year ago when CKT was putting on its final performance of Charlie Brown.
Toward the end of that show, a man in his midthirties had entered the theater by himself and taken a seat in the back row. Katy had been busy watching the play, then organizing the strike party right afterwards. But she definitely saw the guy.
And after the show, Rhonda ran up, breathless with excitement. “Dayne Matthews was here, Katy! Can you believe it? Right here in our own little theater?”
Katy had doubted it at first, because it didn’t make sense. What business would Dayne Matthews have at a Christian Kids Theater performance? In Bloomington of all places?
But the more people she talked to that night, the more she became convinced. Dayne had indeed stopped in to watch part of the show. But his appearance had never been explained, and he left before anyone could talk to him. That night before the strike party began, Katy prayed for Dayne. She prayed that if he had come for a reason, that God would bring him back one day.
Now, with Dayne and Mitch Henry down the hallway waiting for her, she had to believe there was a connection somehow. Had Dayne remembered her and called her in for the audition? The idea was outrageous. He saw her for only a few minutes, onstage talking to the parents. Why would that have given him any idea that she could act?
Katy shook from the questions assaulting her. How was she supposed to read for a part opposite Dayne Matthews without understanding why she was here in the first place? Her mind spun in multiple directions, the script in her hands so unsteady she couldn’t read it.
Already five minutes had raced past, and Katy could think of just one thing to do. She closed her eyes, breathed out, and lifted her face. God, fill me with Your Spirit, Your strength, Your power. I don’t need all the answers; I only need You.
My peace I give you, daughter. . . . I will never leave you nor forsake you.
The pressing thought came from the center of her soul and spread warmth and peace all the way to her fingertips. The words were from Scripture, words she’d memorized as a little girl, back when she was too terrified to stand in front of her middle school class and give an oral report.
And now here they were again, ready to speak calm into her being the moment she asked. Katy took a slow breath. Why hadn’t she asked for help sooner? She opened her eyes and looked at the script. Her hands were steady now, and she set about reading the part.
The scene involved the lead female character explaining to her father why she was leaving home and moving to New York City. Other than a few words, it was a two-minute monologue, the character’s mixture of defending herself and her decision and being caught up in the awe and excitement of life outside her small town. No wonder it was the part selected for the cold read. It allowed a range of emotions that would give any casting director all the information he needed.
She ran over the words three more times. They would expect her to use the script on a cold read, but after looking at it even that much, she had most of it memorized. She stood, smoothed the wrinkles in her pants, clutched the script, and headed toward the room where the two men were waiting.
With every breath she reminded herself of the calming words from her heavenly Father: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
That was a good thing. Because without God’s help she wouldn’t get through the first line. She’d be passed out cold on the floor from the sheer fright of it all.
When Katy reached the door at the end of the hall, she thought about turning around and pretending the whole invitation to audition never happened. Instead she took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in.” It was Mitch Henry’s voice.
Katy stood a little straighter. Confident. Be confident. I have nothing to lose. . . . They asked me to come. She opened the door, walked in, and gave a polite smile first to Mr. Henry, then to Dayne Matthews. “Hi. I’m Katy Hart.”
“Hello, Katy. Did you get enough time with the script?”
“Yes, sir.” Katy tried to concentrate all her attention completely on the casting director, but all she could see was Dayne Matthews. What was that look on his face, the depth in his eyes? And what was Mitch Henry trying to tell her? Something about the script. Focus, Katy. Come on. She cleared her throat and held the stapled papers out i
n front of her. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Katy . . .” Mitch Henry chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “You flew all this way, so maybe you could sit down.” He motioned to an empty chair across the table from where he and Dayne were sitting. “We’d like to get to know you a little.”
“Sure.” This wasn’t part of the bargain. Katy inhaled and willed the peace from a few minutes earlier to fill her once again. She took the chair. “Sorry.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I figured you were in a hurry.”
Dayne leaned forward, resting his forearms on the conference table. “Thanks for coming, Katy. We don’t do this all the time, calling in someone like yourself for an audition.” He hesitated, but his eyes never left hers. Again he seemed to see right through her, as if he’d known her all her life. “Do you have any questions?”
She hadn’t planned to ask any, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Yes.” She looked from Dayne to Mr. Henry and back again. “Why me? I mean, how’d I get here?”
Mr. Henry nodded at Dayne. “You wanna handle this one?”
“Sure.” Dayne smiled, warm and unassuming as he shifted his weight to one arm of his chair. “Actually, it was my doing.”
Katy felt her heartbeat quicken. Dayne Matthews had remembered her from a single visit to the Bloomington Community Theater? Still, she didn’t feel it was the right time to mention his visit. “How . . . how did you find me?”
“I saw your pilot.” His smile shifted to his eyes. “It was very good, Katy. I liked what I saw.”
“Thank you.” He’d seen her pilot? Her throat felt dry and thick. This wasn’t a chance invitation; Dayne had actually seen her work and liked what he saw. Did that mean he wasn’t going to mention stopping into the theater? She waited for him to continue.
Dayne exhaled hard, stood, and took a few steps away before turning and looking at her again. His expression was more serious this time. “See, Katy, the part calls for a small-town girl anxious to make it in the big city. You already know that, right?”