Forgiven (31 page)

“Right.” Elaine tried to get a glimpse, but she was too short to see much. “I read about it in the paper.”

“Ashley came by the other day. She loves this kind of stuff.”

Elaine raised her shoulders a few times. “If you’ve got the time, let’s take a look.”

“Sure.” John swung the bag of apples over his left shoulder and turned onto a sidewalk that would take them closer. “I don’t remember the details, do you? I think it’s a love story.”

“It is.” She smiled. “Dream On, I think. Stars Dayne Matthews and Kelly Parker.

The gossip magazines say they’re living together. I guess the interest is up because of what they have offscreen.”

“Hmmm—” he smiled at her–”I didn’t know you read those.”

“I don’t. Just the covers when I’m in line buying groceries. You can get most of it without turning a single page.”

John laughed. They were closer now, and he led her to a spot 255

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near one corner where they had a front-row view of the happenings. Dayne Matthews was standing next to a man with a bullhorn. Across the street, Kelly Parker and an older man were talking in front of a row of small businesses.

People stationed around the edge of the cordoned area had their hands up, warning the spectators that filming was going on.

After a few minutes, the man with the bullhorn yelled, “Cut, got it! Perfect!

You people amaze me.”

The crowd of onlookers clapped, and someone a few feet from John and Elaine called Dayne’s name. He turned around and smiled, and for the briefest instant, John sucked in a quick breath. “My goodness.”

“What?” Elaine shifted her blueberries to her other arm and tried to follow his gaze. “That’s Dayne Matthews.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “Dayne’s a client for one of the attorneys at the firm where Luke works. More than a year ago, Luke told me that everyone at the law firm thought they looked alike.” He stared at the movie star. “They were right.”

Elaine squinted, studying Dayne. “Sort of.” She gave a slight nod. “I can see the resemblance.”

The man with the bullhorn was asking everyone to quiet down again, and John motioned toward the parking lot. “Let’s get going.” He whispered, “I’m not much of a star gazer.”

She laughed, and they were quiet as they walked to his car. The whole way, John thought about the letters and the fact that he had the rest of the day to finish going through them. Clouds were gathering overhead, and more rain was expected.

It would be the perfect afternoon to light the fireplace and sort through the box. He’d know about Elizabeth’s thoughts, and at the same time he could select the best letters to copy for Ashley and the other girls.

The conversation with Elaine was pleasant on the way home, but it felt good to drop her off and have the silence. Even though the silence could be lonely, it was sometimes the best sound of

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all. Because in that silence, he could always find his way back to yesterday.

At home, he put on the kettle and went to his room to retrieve Elizabeth’s letters. A new setting would be better to sort through the letters this time. He grabbed the box of letters and the manila envelope with the three letters inside. He glanced inside the

manila envelope, but something wasn’t right.

It contained only two envelopes.

Suddenly his heart began to thud hard against the wall of his chest. Where had it gone? He saw the ones for himself and the kids. But the one for their firstborn son was gone.

It had to be here. He set the manila envelope on the bed and checked the floor.

It had been here the other day, and no one had touched the area since. Of course, the cleaning lady had come yesterday. Maybe that was it—maybe she’d set it somewhere to keep it from being sucked in by the vacuum.

He moved the box of letters off the bed and looked under neath it. Then he dropped to his knees and lifted the bed skirt. It had to be here. Other than the housekeeper, no one had been in

his room, and he hadn’t moved it.

Or had he?

He stood and stared at the box. Was he so caught up in the memories and emotions the other day that he’d buried the letter marked Firstborn in the box with the others? He clutched the manila envelope and lifted the box onto his hip. That had to be it. He must’ve slid it down somewhere near the bottom so no one would find it.

For the next hour he sorted through the contents of the box, placing letters in piles on the kitchen table according to who wrote them and when they were sent.

By the end of that time

John was certain of one thing:

The letter was missing.

Ashley had been over, but she wouldn’t have taken it, would she? But if not her, then who? The thought made him sick. But

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even worse was the idea that the secret he and Elizabeth had kept for so many years was about to become public knowledge. And after that, nothing between him and his kids would ever be the same again.

It was too much for John to take in, and as he ate dinner alone and tried to pass the time all evening, he finally convinced himself that the housekeeper must have moved it. She would’ve been cleaning and not known if the envelope belonged with the box or somewhere else. In her doubt, she would’ve set it somewhere safe, somewhere he might find it. Yes, that had to be it.

If Ashley had seen it or taken it, she would’ve called him by now. She wasn’t one to sit on something so life altering. The thought brought him comfort. He’d talk to the cleaning lady as soon as he could. He would ask her where she’d put the envelope, and all would be well. By the time he turned in, he was sure that was the answer.

In fact, he had no doubts whatsoever.

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THE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN KELSY BOUCHEY and the rest of the Annie crew was beyond what Katy had hoped for. Kelsy was the perfect Annie, singing with a soulful earnestness that made her not only believable but unforgettable. The girl’s skill and professionalism reminded Katy of Sarah Jo Stryker, and at times she’d done a double take, looking over her shoulder to see Kelsy where—for a moment—she had expected to see Sarah Jo. Little Kelsy could take a person’s breath away with a single song. And since she had a number of solos, the show was already off to a great start.

Katy stood near the front of the sanctuary and raised her hands toward the kids onstage. “Let’s do that again. The street-people scene needs work.”

Rhonda hopped into the center of the action and helped position kids where they needed to be. Katy took a seat, her notepad balanced on her lap. It was Saturday morning, and more than a week had passed since she’d seen Dayne or allowed anyone to bring up his name.

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All her focus was on the play. In the orphanage scenes, she’ worked in some special blocking to highlight Kyle Lanham. He was onstage now looking adorable as always, playing the role one of the orphans, since they didn’t have a little girl his who could pull off the vocals. They’d renamed him Wally, the other orphans were constantly fawning over him. They had complained about his role at first. If he was the only people might think he was a girl, he said. Because of that, Katy shifted a few other boys into those scenes.

Kyle’s mother had pulled Katy aside at the last practice. “No matter what Kyle tells you, he loves the attention.” She patted Katy on the back. “Thanks for trusting him with the part.”

“He’s playing it perfectly.” She hadn’t had as much time to get to know the new parents with this show, but she liked Kyle’s mother. “Whatever you’re doing at home, keep it up.”

Now they were putting the final touches on the blocking for the street scene.

Kelsy was supposed to come in stage right with her newfound dog and ask the group of shabby street people whether anyone was looking for a dog, and for that matter, whether any of them had given away a little redheaded girl nine years earlier.

Katy had debated a long time about whether to use a real dog. That had always been the plan, but with the tragedy of the accident and the lost rehearsal time, it seemed like more than they could pull off. Still, the rest of her creative team had wanted a real dog, and a brief audition was held at the end of the first rehearsal. They picked a dog named Mister, a golden retriever with a slightly earnest expression. In auditions, the dog was able to come and sit on command. With the other dogs generally wandering around the room and sniffing each other, Mister was the obvious dog for the part.

The next hurdle was whether to call him Mister or Sandy, the way the script called for. Katy’s creative team agreed that somehow the dog would have to learn to come to the name Sandy.

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Everyone who knew the story of Annie knew that her dog’s name was Sandy. Period.

They’d kept the dog out of rehearsals until today, and so far they’d run into one problem after another. The first and most obvious was the fact that Kelsy Bouchey, for all the talent she brought to the role, was deathly afraid of dogs.

It had taken half an hour for Nancy Helmes to get the child to sit still long enough for the dog to come up and lick her hand.

Now Kelsy was willing to let the dog walk by her side, but she was still jumpy around him. The cast members were all in their places, and Kelsy stood off in the wings, with Mister on a leash at her side.

“Okay, let’s take it from the end of the song.”

One of the older girls in the middle pretended to dole out soup to the cold, shabbily dressed street people lined up on either side of her. Katy surveyed the line of faces. “You don’t look cold, guys. Come on.”

Immediately, the street people began blowing on their fingers and rubbing their hands together.

“That’s it, and look interested in each other. You’re in a soup line, but you’d be making conversation.”

The kids started talking with each other.

“No, wait!” Katy stood and waved her hand. “Silent conversation, pretend conversation.”

A few of the older kids hid a round of laughter, but the noise dropped. The girl in the middle held an imaginary ladle and

looked down the line. “Another day, another bowl of soup.” Katy looked at Kelsy.

“That’s your cue, honey.” “I know, but the dog’s smelling my shoe.”

“That’s okay.” Katy took a few steps toward her. “Dogs do that. Just pull on his leash and bring him onstage.”

She tugged at the leash and walked to the middle of the group of street people.

“Hi, everyone. Hey, did anyone lose a dog?”

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The street people responded with a mix of quiet no’s and head shakes.

“Well, then…” Kelsy took another step toward the people. “Open up, Kelsy.”

Katy was back at the front pew, getting what would be the front view of the scene. “We have to see your face at all times.”

She nodded and turned her shoulders toward the front of the room. “Well, then, did anyone give up a little redheaded girl nine years ago?”

A few more lines of conversation followed, and then the scene went into a reprise of the earlier song. When it was finished, on came Bryan Smythe, the new CKT heartthrob and one of the kids attending the weekly Bible study at the Flanigan house. He scattered the street people and then approached Kelsy. “Hey, little

girl, what’s your name?”

“Annie.”

“Hmmm.” He gave her a stern look. “This your dog?” “Yes, mister.”

At the sound of his name, the dog did a happy circle around the two of them, wagging his tail and hanging his tongue from his mouth. In the process the leash wrapped around Kelsy’s and Bryan’s legs, and the two of them teetered and tipped and finally toppled onto the stage with the dog between them.

Mister hovered over Kelsy and began licking her nose. “Help!” Kelsy screamed.

“Don’t panic!” Bryan tried to push his way between her and the dog.

Kelsy’s arms were flailing. “Get him off me!”

Katy put her head in her hands. She walked up to the kids and helped them get untangled. “Okay, so let’s cut the word mister from the scene.”

Again a round of giggles came from the kids who were now watching from either side of the stage.

“Yes, it’s all very funny.” Katy smiled at them. They were 263

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right; it was funny. But they still needed to find a way to make it work.

“Remember—” she took the leash from Bryan and pulled the dog to her side—”we open in six weeks, and so far the dog scene’s nothing more than a comedy routine:”

She handed the leash back to Kelsy and showed her and Bryan where to stand.

“Let’s take it from the part where Bryan asks you if this is your dog.”

Bryan did as he was told. The kid had two parts in the play. Police officer in this scene and the one where he has to return Annie to the orphanage, and the rising star in the NYC song, mostly because he was amazing at belting out the solo in the middle of the number.

Bryan gave Kelsy a stern look. “This your dog?”

“Yes…” Kelsy shot a glance at Katy. “Yes, sir.”

“All right, then what’s his name?” Bryan pretended to have a billy club in his hand, and he tapped it against his open palm.

“Uh…” Kelsy looked at the dog. “His name’s Sandy. That’s it, Sandy. Because of his nice sandy color.” She smiled at Bryan. “He’s my dog, all right.”

“I guess we can see about that.” Bryan walked the dog across the stage and turned to face Kelsy. He unhooked the dog’s leash and held him by the collar.

“Call him, and if he comes to you, then he’s your dog. If not, he goes to the pound.” He paused. “Okay, kid. Call your dog.”

Kelsy gulped, just the way Katy had told her to. She crouched down and looked at the dog. She held out her hand and said, “C’mere, Sandy. Come on, boy. Come, Sandy.”

From her place in the pew, Katy held her breath. The next part was the riskiest of all.

Bryan released the dog, but instead of going to Kelsy, Mister trotted to the center of the stage, sat down, and stared out at the pews. He headed back past Bryan, down a set of stairs, and into the aisle to one of the mothers sitting four rows back.