Paparazzi followed her to the airport, then gave up. If she was going home to Bloomington, there would be no clandestine photographs of her and Dayne to capture. No reason to chase her.
She called him just once—to tell him she’d made it to her gate at the airport.
“Let me know when you reach Indiana.” His tone was urgent, as if he wanted more than anything to keep the connection between them.
Her sigh told him what her words could not. “Sure, Dayne.” She wanted to believe it was true, even as she felt her heart breaking. “We’ll talk later.”
But by Monday morning, they still hadn’t talked. Rain fell across Bloomington, and Katy wore a hooded coat and her hair pulled back for her trip to the local market.
Her pulse raced as she found an empty checkout stand and stood, horrified. The damage was everything she had feared it would be. Six tabloids shouted the news, each in different ways. For the most part the headlines were the same—big, bold print stating, “Dayne Matthews’ Mystery Woman Revealed!” The cover of one had the picture of Dayne and her on Malibu Beach. Her face was twisted into a look of shock and fear, and her hand was up, as if trying to stop the picture from happening.
As she looked at it, Dayne’s words came back to her: “Put your hand down.” She had wondered how that would help, but now the answer was obvious. By holding her hand up, she looked guiltier than Margie Madden. Guilty and caught—just the way the tabloids preferred their subjects.
The cover of the next tabloid had the shot of Dayne and her kissing, knee-deep in the surf. Katy felt her heart sink as she looked at it. How could she face the CKT families when she was entangled in what must’ve looked like a national scandal? Each of the magazines had smaller, inset pictures showing Katy and Dayne stretched out opposite each other on the Pepperdine hillside or darting out of the hotel.
The worst one was last in the line, and the photo made Katy feel faint. It showed the two of them running into the beach house that belonged to the friend of Joe Morris. The caption beside it read, “The lovers stayed at this romantic getaway.”
She brought her fingers to her cheeks and tried to ward off the heat. By reading just the covers of the tabloids, most of America would have to think that Dayne and his mystery woman were definitely sleeping together, caught up in a secret relationship that had obviously been going on since the attack by Margie Madden.
In a rush, Katy grabbed a copy of each magazine and took them to a checkout manned by an older man.
He rang up the sale, bagged the items, and took her money. She was about to thank him and take her bag when he gave her a kind smile. “It’ll pass, Ms. Hart. Don’t let it get you down.”
She thanked him and hurried to the car, her mind swirling with what had just happened. If a sixty-year-old cashier could recognize her from the tabloid covers, then all of Bloomington would know. A person didn’t have to buy the magazines or even open them to know her predicament. Everyone who came through the grocery store checkout would see her picture on the covers.
Katy drove home without registering a single street sign. Jenny Flanigan was working at Bailey’s school, and at this hour, Jim would be in the back room, homeschooling the boys. Katy was glad. She wasn’t ready to face either of them. She raced up the stairs to her apartment and spread the magazines over her small kitchen table. She spent the next two hours reading every word, staring at every photo.
Two of the tabloids had photos of Dayne and Kelly Parker, with captions that suggested Dayne was probably seeing Katy the entire time he was dating Kelly. One of them showed an angry picture of the female star, with a small boxed story that claimed Kelly was furious. “Fighting mad,” a source said.
Katy noticed a pattern. Every time substantiation was needed for a story, the tabloids simply claimed “a source” had said the damaging comments. Sources in all six magazines were quoted saying that Dayne had fallen for Katy because of her small-town appeal, while sidebar stories suggested she was nothing more than a lucky fan.
None of the magazines went into great detail about the trial, except for the sensational moments, the times when Margie Madden had lashed out at Katy or Dayne. It wasn’t until she reached the last story that she read the line that made her heart skip a beat. The title above the small article read, “Score One for the Hypocrites.”
Beneath that it said:
Katy Hart, who works with a Christian Kids Theater group in Bloomington, Indiana, isn’t proving herself to be so Christian after all. Sources say she spent the night with Dayne at a borrowed beach house, and activities inside the house were so steamy, the couple pulled the shades on every window.
Katy let her head hang. It was the single detail they’d worked so hard to keep from the public, and now it was out in the open.
Dayne phoned an hour later, and she took the call.
“Katy . . . are you okay?”
“They’re wretched, Dayne.” She carried herself to her bed and stretched out, her head on her pillow. “How can I leave my apartment?”
“You can leave because you know the truth.” He sounded strong, sure.
His voice righted her world. Even just a little. She held tight to the phone, wishing it were him beside her instead. She missed him so much it hurt. “How are you?”
“Today? I can’t tell what feels worse, seeing your name and face splashed over the tabloids or knowing that the moments they caught were the last . . . the last we’ll have.”
She wanted to weep for a month or a year. “Why does it have to be this way?” Her question was rhetorical, and they both knew it. But it was how they were feeling. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too. If there was a way to protect you from all this . . . I’d be there this afternoon.” His voice was heavy. “I’m no good for you, Katy. The magazines can tell you that much.”
The phone call ended with neither of them any closer to finding an answer, except for the obvious one—the fact that there truly was no answer. The tabloids could capture a kiss or a private moment, but they had done nothing to capture the heart of the man she cared for so much. For all their haunting and chasing and lurking, their stories only skimmed the surface.
That afternoon, Katy called Bethany Allen, Rhonda, and Nancy and Al Helmes for an emergency meeting. There was no point running from the obvious. She brought the magazines with her and spread them out in front of her friends and coworkers.
“You need to hear my side of the story.” She looked at each of them.
But before she could launch into her explanation, Al Helmes held up his hand. “I, for one, don’t need to hear your story, Katy. You and Dayne Matthews are friends, and you’re interested in each other. That’s fine.” He scowled at the tabloids. “But that bunch of lies wouldn’t make me doubt you for a minute.”
“Of course not.” Bethany took out a pad of paper and a pen. “But let’s hear Katy’s side of the story, anyway. In case we’re approached by any of the CKT parents.”
Rhonda was quiet. Her eyes told Katy that she was agonizing over the publicity and that she would stand by Katy regardless of public opinion.
Katy gripped the edge of the table. Please, God, give me the words.
No comforting whisper sounded in her heart, and Katy wasn’t surprised. So much of what lay spread on the magazine covers was her own fault. If she would’ve left things with Dayne on a professional level, even on a friendship level, there would’ve been no pictures to take, no story to guess at.
She took a quick breath. “I’ll be honest with you.” She looked at Al. “You’re right. Dayne and I have feelings for each other.”
A dreamy look mixed with the other emotions in Rhonda’s eyes. Dreamy and sympathetic at the same time, and Katy understood. The secret they’d kept for so long was finally out.
Katy let her gaze fall to the magazines. “We met a while ago, after he first came to Bloomington. He was researching his film Dream On, and he asked me to read for the lead role.”
“Kat
y . . . ,” Bethany gasped. “You never said a word.”
“Rhonda knew.” She looked at her friend, and they shared a pair of weak smiles. “The audition went well, and Dayne offered me the part. We were . . . we were talking about that when the fan attacked us.”
“Margie Madden.” Nancy Helmes’ tone was pure empathy. “You poor dear.”
“It was scary.” Katy ran her fingers along the inside of her arm, the place where she’d been cut by the woman. “She wanted to kill me. I’m convinced.”
All of them had followed the story in the newspaper, so there weren’t many questions.
Al reached over and patted Katy’s hand. “She got the conviction she deserved.”
“She did.” Katy nodded. “Anyway, after that . . . I turned down the part. I told Dayne our lives were too different, and I belonged in Bloomington. And there was the issue of faith. Dayne was angry at God for, well, for a lot of reasons. There was no way I could let myself fall for him.”
“He called her a few times, but she didn’t take his calls.” Rhonda’s voice was soft, filled with the memory of that time. She gave Katy a sad smile. “He didn’t want to give up.”
“No, but we didn’t have a choice.” Katy looked at Bethany. “I love my job here. I felt God calling me to stay and not to be distracted by anyone, even Dayne Matthews. That’s when he moved in with Kelly Parker, the actress who took the part.”
“Wow.” Bethany sat back in her chair, amazed. “I had no idea.”
Nancy nudged one of the tabloids. “They say you were involved with him when he came here for the location filming.”
“I wasn’t.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “He had moved on to Kelly. We talked only a few times while he was here.”
“He didn’t waste much time.” Disgust colored Al’s tone. “That must’ve been hard for you, Katy.”
“It was.” She winced, feeling the ache way down to her soul. “It still is.” She sorted through her thoughts. “Things didn’t work out with Kelly, and then twice over the next few months he came to Bloomington, surprised me, and took me on walks around Lake Monroe.”
“Dayne Matthews?” Bethany’s lips parted. “He was here in Bloomington, secretly taking walks with you?” She looked at Rhonda. “I can’t believe this.”
As she heard herself tell the story, Katy could hardly believe it either. She told them how the feelings between her and Dayne were there every time they were together and how Dayne had given his life to Jesus a few months ago. “But there never seems to be a way to bridge our two worlds.”
“So by the time you went to LA for the trial, the two of you had some talking to do.” Al made it sound very normal, very sensible. As if Dayne were any other guy she might’ve been attracted to. “That explains the pictures.”
“Yes, well . . .” Katy felt her cheeks getting hot once more. “We should never have kissed, not when we don’t have a plan for tomorrow. But even so—” her voice grew stronger—“nothing more than that happened between us. Yes, I stayed the night with him at that beach house but only because we had photographers banging on the door, desperate to take our pictures. We decided to outlast them, but we fell asleep.”
She held up her hands. “That’s it. Just the two of us asleep on the couch.” She pursed her lips. “On our last day we were chased by photographers, and Dayne lost control of his SUV. We could’ve been killed. And that’s when we both realized our situation.” She lifted one shoulder. “We can’t be together. It won’t work for either of us. We said good-bye that night, and truly I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.”
Rhonda had tears in her eyes. She looked down, clearly heartbroken over the situation.
“I’m sorry, Katy.” Bethany stood and gave Katy a hug around her shoulders. “This must be very hard.”
“Yes.” She sniffed. With all the tears she’d cried in the past few days, she had none left now. Not because she wasn’t sad but because she wasn’t finished. She had more to say, more that had caused her to call this meeting. “It was important for me that you know the truth, that Dayne and I haven’t done more than kiss.” She swallowed. “Even so, what I did this past week wasn’t fair to any of you. The Bible says to avoid even a hint of immorality.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Because of that, I’m sorry.”
“Katy . . . this isn’t necessary.” Nancy was quick to speak. “You had no idea what you were getting into in LA.”
“Still—” her eyes met Bethany’s—“I would understand if you wanted me to step down. If the things people are saying about me are too much for all of you, too much for the reputation of CKT.”
Bethany was still standing beside her. She crouched down and put her hand on Katy’s shoulder. “They can call you a hypocrite, but we know the truth. You wouldn’t be here if your faith wasn’t everything to you.”
She had expected raised eyebrows and even a scolding. If Bethany would’ve asked her to take time off, she would’ve understood that too. No matter what the truth, the rumors would take weeks to settle down. Months, maybe. But this . . . open arms and perfect love, never for a minute had Katy hoped for this response even though it made sense. Of course they would stand by her; they were friends, after all.
A lump settled in her throat, and she put her arms around Bethany. “I . . . don’t know how to face everyone. The Picks and Johnsons, the Reeds, the Shaffers.” She felt fear well up inside her. “What will they think of me?”
As she talked, Nancy and Al stood and moved behind her.
Rhonda reached across the table and took her hand. “No one’s deserting you, Katy. We know who you are.”
“The tabloids don’t have any idea what they’re talking about.” Al’s voice was thick, as if even he was choked up watching everyone come to Katy’s rescue.
Katy couldn’t say another word, couldn’t refuse the chance they were giving her. If they were willing to stand by her, then somehow God would pull her through. She’d come out on the other side stronger for every lie told about her. Besides, there was no denying her role in what had happened. She shouldn’t have trusted herself in public with Dayne, shouldn’t have kissed him at all, not when from the beginning she could see no future for the two of them. And another thing. She shouldn’t have allowed lies to be told on her behalf. Lies never amounted to anything good.
Her time with Dayne had been only a dream, a fantasy. He would never be a normal guy. There was no way to undo what fame and celebrity had done to him, no way for him to wake up tomorrow morning and be anyone other than the famous movie star he was.
She and Jenny and Jim had talked about all of it the night she returned from Los Angeles. She’d told them she was wrong, and she’d asked them to forgive her for marring their reputation in any way. Their reaction had been much the same as the one here today. They hurt for her, but they were hardly willing to point a finger at her.
“I think you should go home and get some rest.” Bethany stood and gave Katy’s shoulder one last tender squeeze. “We have a lot of another sort of drama ahead in the next few weeks.”
Narnia. Katy could hardly wait for the distraction. She lifted her head and looked at each of them. “Thank you.” She bit her lip to keep from crying out loud. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.”
The meeting ended with Al praying for her, praying that people who knew her would see the tabloid lies for what they were, and that Katy would feel the love and support of the Flanigans and her CKT family.
“And lastly, Lord, we pray for Dayne and Katy, these two young people who can’t act on their feelings, feelings that may actually be from You.” He paused. “Give Dayne wisdom, help the two of them to walk in honesty, and help them keep their faith in You.”
Before she left, Bethany assured Katy that she would field any concerns from the CKT families. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She gave Katy another quick hug. “But whatever trouble is stirred up, I’ll deal with it.”
The concerns came, but only one or two each day. For the most part, Katy didn’t know more than the fact that Bethany had handled a few phone calls on her behalf. But at Friday’s rehearsal, a group of the teenage girls was whispering in a corner, and they stopped when Katy walked over.
“Girls—” Katy kept her tone even—“if you have something to say to me, please . . . just say it.”
A brunette stepped forward. She was known for her flirtatious behavior and for being on the fence when it came to faith. Her eyes sparkled. “What’s it like kissing Dayne Matthews?” She glanced back at her friends. “Since the rest of us can only dream about it.”
They wanted Katy to giggle, and if she and Dayne had figured out a way to make things work, she might have. But there was nothing funny about what had happened, not when their actions had clearly been a mistake from the beginning. “Dayne’s a nice guy.” She raised her brow, her expression serious. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Later that day one of the new mothers approached her and took her aside. “Will this—” she pulled one of the tabloids from her purse—“be a regular thing for you, Ms. Hart?” Her expression was smug, and she kept her voice low. “Because if it is, I’d just like to suggest that maybe you consider another line of work. Where our children wouldn’t have to see their . . . Christian drama teacher on the front page of every magazine in the supermarket.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Katy felt the blood drain from her face. Her arms and legs were suddenly weak. “I’m . . . I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Quite right.” She snapped the magazine back into her purse and tossed her head. “Please mind yourself from now on.”
Bethany must’ve seen the confrontation. She was at Katy’s side in a hurry. “Mrs. Wilson, did you have a question I could handle?”
“I’ve handled it.” She leveled her look at Katy. Then she huffed off after her two young daughters.