Kelly prayed out loud and sang songs about Jesus and God’s promises until both girls fell asleep. Then she trudged back to the kitchen to a sink overflowing with dishes that hadn’t been washed since breakfast. The old house didn’t have a dishwasher, so when every last dish and pan was scrubbed clean and dripping dry, Kelly found the Baskin Robbins Rocky Road in the garage freezer and dished up a bowl. Companionship for a round of laundry and late-night infomercials. She didn’t cut the lights in her bedroom until just before one a.m., setting herself up for another rushed morning with Molly and Macy scrambling into her room and jumping on her bed sometime before eight.
Molly was four, and Macy two, and neither of them attended preschool. Kelly taught them letters and numbers and a few times each week the three of them sat around their wobbly kitchen table and colored princess pictures or made crafts with bright card stock and water paints. But the rushed morning changed everything about the hours that followed, and today was no exception.
Kelly moved into the living room and grabbed the first threadbare towel from the mountain of laundry. When Chase was here, they’d have the girls in bed by eight-thirty and work on the laundry or bills together. Strange how in his absence the workload seemed to quadruple.
A sigh slipped from deep inside her. “I’m sorry, Lord. I hate this. I should have a better attitude.”
If only she wasn’t so tired. Her days as a missionary had been equally hard, but in a different way. There was manual labor — threshing wheat, grinding flour, baking with the village women, cleaning. She’d learned to sew and repair basic functional household items and cook, and every night at dusk activity wound down. Sleep came easily in Indonesia, the way it rarely did in San Jose — at least with Chase away.
She sighed and checked her reflection in the microwave hood above her gas stove. No shower, but she had at least brushed her hair and put on a light foundation. She had to at least look decent with company coming over. Today was the second Thursday of the month, which meant Laurie Weeks would be here any minute.
Laurie headed up the Monday-morning Bible study at San Jose Community Church. She had three kids, a constant stream of family photos on her Facebook, and a love for the beach — same as Kelly. A few months back when Bible study let out, Laurie asked if they could have lunch together. Over Caesar salads Laurie noted that Chase had been gone a lot. Kelly explained about the movie, about the mission of her husband and Keith, and over the next hour the two became fast friends. Kelly was grateful. She needed friends now more than ever.
Kelly grabbed another handful of M&Ms and slid them into her mouth. She hated this new habit, getting by on junk food. But when she was running on empty, the candy helped. The trouble was she was gaining weight because of it, which meant that any junk food in the house had to be hidden from Chase. The last thing she wanted was his scrutiny, him wondering why she wasn’t eating right and taking note of her slightly bigger size. She wasn’t hungry, of course. She was overwhelmed. Treading water in an endless sea of menial tasks and impossible debt, struggling to grab even a breath of air so she could keep at it one more day.
But not Chase. He couldn’t see how she was drowning because his own happiness didn’t allow it. He came home from the editing trips overflowing with excitement about the movie. What did he know about her life these days? The lawn mower was sputtering along on its last leg, and the vacuum needed replacing. Most of the time, Kelly felt like just one more broken-down machine, completely cut off from Chase’s work and his exciting movie life.
When he was home, Kelly had a dozen questions, but the one that rose to the surface most often lately was about the movie’s theatrical release. She had believed from the beginning that if they actually finished the film, if they found enough investor money to complete the project, then it would take only a matter of months before the picture hit the big screen. Especially now that the guys had connected with glamorous Kendall Adams and her father. Because of them, money for their film projects was much less of a concern.
But Keith and Chase had an attorney now — Dayne Matthews’ brother, Luke Baxter. Luke had read Chase and Keith’s contract and warned them that a theatrical release wasn’t a guarantee — even with the right funding.
According to Luke, the contract with the studio was ironclad. Either the studio executives would view the final cut of the movie and give the okay for a theatrical release, or they wouldn’t. The problem was this: even with the P&A budget covered, the studio would face a financial risk by putting the film in theaters. Very simply, it was a risk the execs might not want to take.
And if the film didn’t make it to theaters, the guys would likely not make back their money.
Kelly had been horrified when she first understood the situation Chase and Keith faced. She talked to Keith’s wife, Lisa, and the two agreed they needed to pray. Without a theatrical release, Keith and Chase could face bankruptcy and a complete loss of credibility as filmmakers. All their efforts could amount to little more than nothing.
Kelly filled the kettle with water, slipped it onto the front burner, and turned the flame up high. Laurie loved tea at their twice-monthly get-togethers. It would be the healthiest thing Kelly had placed in her mouth since Chase left for LA four days ago.
She leaned against the counter and stared at the dull linoleum floor. Remember the fireflies, she told herself. Don’t forget about the fireflies. Years ago when Chase learned fireflies really existed, he determined anything was possible. It was a mantra they lived by. But Kelly was lonely and depressed. Money was tight, and there was no end in sight to the long days without her husband. She still wanted to believe in his movie career, but week after week without him had sapped her of every bit of excitement and enthusiasm.
“Stay positive,” Chase told her two days ago, the last time they talked. “God’s brought us this far. He’ll work out the details.”
Kelly wanted to believe him.
There was a light knock from the front room. She slid the bowl of M&Ms to the back edge of the counter and hurried to get the door.
An unusual rain had hit San Jose that morning, and the storm was blowing hard outside. Laurie shook the water from her windbreaker and stepped quickly inside. “It’s nasty out there.” She was breathless as Kelly shut the door behind them. “Feels like it could snow.”
“Another ten degrees and it could.”
The water had begun to boil in the other room. Kelly led the two of them into the kitchen, where she poured the tea. Apple-cinnamon, a reminder of the holidays right around the corner.
They sat at the table and Laurie caught her breath talking about her kids. Audrey wanted to take another mission trip, and Lucas was switching his major at San Jose State. Sam had won senior honors on his football team, and life was good. Good and fast and full.
A comfortable quiet filled in the spaces between them, and they sipped their tea, listening to the wind howl through the trees outside.
Laurie put her cup down. “Chase is still in Santa Monica?”
“He is.” Kelly’s face fell before she could stop herself.
“That’s what I thought.” Something in Laurie’s eyes changed. “You look tired.”
Tears came from nowhere. Kelly blinked them back and studied the teabag in her cup.
Laurie waited, patient and kind as ever. “Wanna talk about it?” A sound more sob than laugh came from Kelly and she brought her fingers to her lips. “It’s nothing, really. I mean … things are okay with us.”
“The movie?”
“I guess.” A teardrop fell onto the table. Kelly dabbed at it, and then at her eyes. “The guys might not get a theatrical release for The Last Letter. If they don’t … the film could lose money, and … Well, the actors will think the movie was a mistake.” She found control again. “It could be their last picture.”
Confusion clouded Laurie’s eyes. “I thought they got some kind of good news a while back.”
“They found funding, otherwise they wouldn??
?t have had the money to finish the film. But now their attorney is telling them they’re in an unbreakable deal with the studio, and the studio is struggling like everyone else. The theatrical release of an independent film is a risk, and so without a miracle, the movie will only release on DVD.”
The rain picked up and pounded a steady rhythm on the roof and windows of the Ryan’s three-bedroom ranch. Wind howled and a tree outside bent almost to breaking. When the gust let up, Laurie took another drink of her tea. “Is that it, then? The movie?”
Kelly didn’t have to ask what she meant. “It gets old, I guess. Chase gone all the time.” Frustration tightened her throat, and she whispered her next words. “We’ve maxed out our credit cards and taken out loans. We’re living on barely anything. All this … for what? How’s the culture affected if the movie never makes it to theaters?”
“Honestly?” Laurie set her cup down. Her eyes radiated kindness. “I’m more worried about you and Chase than the movie. When’s the last time you went out?”
“Alone?” Kelly tried to remember. “I can’t remember.”
“Okay, how about this. I’ll take Molly and Macy one night this weekend so you and Chase can go to dinner.”
“Really?”
“Of course. My kids love your girls.” Laurie sat a little straighter, enthused about her idea. “We can play croquet out front. Sam’s been into that lately. You and Chase pick a nice restaurant and take your time. Let’s make it Saturday, so he won’t be drained from the drive back.”
Kelly didn’t want to admit they didn’t have enough money for dinner at a restaurant. Besides, she had no idea what she’d wear. Most of her clothes were too tight to look good. But so what? Chase loved her, anyway. Maybe they could eat at home and take a walk around the track at Mount Pleasant High School down the street. Just to get out together. The idea sounded better than any of the weekends they’d had lately. Chase coming home tired, desperate for sleep, and spending his waking hours watching football or on the phone with people connected to the movie.
“Saturday?”
“Saturday.” Laurie laughed, her smile easy. “Say yes.”
“Well …” Suddenly the idea sounded wonderful. “Okay.” She reached across the table and took hold of Laurie’s hands. “Thanks, Laurie. We’d love it.”
The conversation moved to matters at church — the current women’s Bible study, which was nearly finished with Thessalonians. “Something in the middle of chapter 5 keeps staying with me.” Laurie folded her hands around her mug. “‘Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.’”
Kelly looked outside. The wind and rain were just as bad as before, with no signs of letting up. Be joyful always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances. She hadn’t done any of that lately. But then … when she was on a downturn like this, she never did. Between the kids and keeping the house running, she didn’t have a minute to herself. Besides, she couldn’t spend the day grazing from one snack to another and praising God at the same time. With her, it was one or the other.
Laurie stayed until Molly padded down the hallway, holding her worn blanky and rubbing her blue eyes. She stopped short when she saw Kelly wasn’t alone. “Hi, Miss Laurie.”
“Hi, Molly.” Laurie’s eyes immediately softened. “You look just like my little girl did when she was your age.”
Molly smiled, not sure what to say. She went to Kelly. “Time to get up?” She yawned.
“Yes, sweetie.” Kelly held out her arms and Molly came to her, sliding up easily on her lap. Kelly kissed her blonde head. “Is Macy still sleeping?”
“Mm-hmm. She’s more tired than me.” Molly jumped down and shuffled to the sofa a few feet away in the den. She curled up at one end and brought her blanket to her face.
Laurie helped carry the mugs into the kitchen, and then hugged Kelly good-bye. “Call me if something changes. But really, Kelly. Saturday. I’m planning on it.”
When her friend was gone, Kelly took the spot beside Molly and patted her lap. Molly climbed up and laid her head down on Kelly’s shoulder. “I miss Daddy,” she muttered into Kelly’s sweatshirt.
“Me too.” She stroked Molly’s long hair. “He’ll be home tomorrow.”
From the other room, soft tired cries told them both that Macy was awake. “Sissy!” Molly was on her feet again, scrambling toward the bedroom she shared with her sister. She looked over her shoulder as she ran. “Let’s do something fun, Mommy.”
Kelly pulled herself up and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall next to the TV. She looked heavy and old and worn out. The rain was bringing her down, and she agreed with Molly. They needed something fun. Something to take the edge off the loneliness and uncertainty, the fears about the movie, and the long stretches of days without a call from Chase.
She grabbed another handful of M&Ms on the way to helping Macy up onto the toilet. Her youngest was dry, at least. A victory.
Back in the kitchen, Kelly took out a large mixing bowl and the bag of Nestlé chocolate chips she’d bought the day before. “I have an idea.” She found a grin for her girls.
“Mmmm!” Molly jumped around and patted Macy on the head. “Yay, Macy, look! We’re gonna make cookies!”
“Cookie!” Macy put her hands straight up and danced in a circle with her sister.
That’s right, Kelly told herself. Chocolate-chip cookies. Something to make us feel good.
Rejoicing and praying could come later.
Today she would bake.
Five
THE THANKSGIVING DINNER PARTY TOOK PLACE at Katy and Dayne Matthew’s house high above the shores of Lake Monroe in Bloomington, Indiana. Bailey was home for a few days — no classes or rehearsals — and Andi had used her parents’ frequent flyer miles to fly to California and be with her parents. So at three o’clock on Thanksgiving Day Bailey found herself in the back-seat of her family’s Suburban headed for the lake. A light snow swirled through the air, and a layer of threatening clouds hung over the afternoon. Something by Carrie Underwood played in the background, but Bailey wasn’t listening. She was working too hard trying to shake the loneliness that hung around her heart.
“Don’t you think it’s kinda weird?” Ricky was in the third seat, belted between Justin and Shawn.
“What’s that, honey?” Their mom shifted so she could see Ricky from the front passenger seat.
“Having Thanksgiving dinner somewhere else? It feels weird.”
“It does.” Shawn nodded, and Justin and BJ agreed.
“I mean, it’ll be fun,” Ricky grinned. “I love looking for eagles off their back porch, especially in the snow. But still …”
Bailey agreed. She missed the routine and tradition of Thanksgiving at home, but she knew the reason.
“Like I told everyone a week ago … Dad has a game tomorrow.” Mom smiled. “Your father and I agreed we’d rather not spend the day cooking.” She gave their dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “I think it was a great call.”
“Nice of the Matthews to ask us.” Dad looked in his rearview mirror at the six kids. “It’ll be a good change.”
“Yeah, except …” Ricky shrugged. “It wasn’t the same this morning without the turkey smell and the liver and neck and everything.”
The other boys laughed, and after a few seconds Ricky did too. They were still laughing when they turned into the Matthews’ long driveway. Bailey stared at the house and remembered a few years back when Dayne had been in the terrible car accident in Los Angeles. Back then he was the biggest movie star in Hollywood, and with paparazzi chasing him, he’d lost control and nearly been killed. During his recovery, Bailey and her family and everyone involved in Christian Kids Theater had come together and completely made over this lake house. When Katy and Dayne returned to Bloomington, the house and yard were filled with everyone who’d taken part in the work. The makeover had brought people together, and kids
in CKT still talked about it.
They parked and piled out. Bailey took two of the four pumpkin pies — their contribution to the meal. Those and the bag of rolls Ricky carried. With the entire Baxter family expected for dinner, Bailey figured there would be thirty-four people eating turkey.
“Good thing the girls are bringing extra turkeys.” Her mom stepped aside and let Shawn rush ahead to get the door. “We’ll need them for this group.”
“Yeah, for our group alone!” Ricky rubbed his stomach. “I could eat a whole drumstick.”
“You usually do.” Justin giggled and elbowed his younger brother.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Their dad came alongside Shawn as they knocked at the door. “No roughhousing today. Be Flanigans, and be helpful.” He winked at them amid a host of “Yes, Dad” responses.
Now that she was older, Bailey loved watching her parents, the way they snuck kisses and hugs and still laughed every day, and the way they set a high bar for her and her brothers. It was the sort of marriage and family life she wanted someday down the road.
“The Flanigans!” Katy was the first to the door. She hugged Bailey’s mom and welcomed everyone else. “The football game’s on in the den!”
“Can we go out back and look for eagles?” Ricky was already one step in that direction. “And watch football after?”
“Of course.” Katy laughed and led Ricky toward the back door.
“But don’t track snow into the house.” Their dad followed and lightly roughed up Ricky’s blond hair. “And don’t stay out too long. It’s getting colder.”
Dayne entered from the other room and grinned at the group. “It’s not a party till the Flanigans are here, that’s what I always say!” He gave their dad a solid hug with one arm. In the other he held a sleeping baby Sophie, who at five months was the perfect mix of Katy and Dayne. Bailey took in the sight of him and smiled to herself. Dayne Matthews might’ve been brilliant in the roles he played on the big screen. But no role had ever suited him as well as this one: husband and father.