In Between (36 page)

“So what I’m trying to say is you’re here for a reason, Katie. Living in In Between for a reason. The Scotts are your foster parents for a reason. And I think you’re going to be on stage tonight. . .for a reason.”

I push the final pin in my hair and look at my friend. “All I see right now is that in another hour I’m going to walk out on that stage, in a play I’ve never been in before, and perform one of the world’s most famous parts. And I’m sick to my stomach. Like so nervous I could do some serious hurling all over this hideous yellow dress. The entire town of In Between is going to be out there. And I know I’m going to totally mess up. A lot.” I stop long enough to take a breath. “This could be a huge mistake. Like Beyonce as a blonde mistake.”

Frances hands me a blush brush. “This isn’t a mistake. And no matter what, there are people out there who care about you. And they don’t really mind whether you mess up a line or have a wardrobe malfunction. That’s not what this is about.”

No, it’s not. It’s about helping James and Millie. I owe those people. And one day when Mrs. Smartly’s green van swings back into town, I don’t want to leave in any anyone’s debt.

“Thanks, Frances.”

Frances tugs me into a hug.

“Um, Frances?”

“Yes?”

“You’re smashing my Kleenex.”

Knock. Knock.

“Five minutes until you’re on, Katie. Get ready.”

Bev closes the door of the dressing room, where I’m now surrounded by all the other actors not on stage. (You know, as in the actors who know what they’re doing.)

My heart gallops like it’s going to give out any second. My dress is too tight (well, except for the top part), and my palms are sweating. Did someone turn up the heat? It’s so hot in here. I tried to drop a few subtle hints for someone to turn the air conditioner on, but no one was interested. Don’t these people know who I am? I’m Juliet!

Juliet’s lines chase one another in my head. Frances’s words interrupt them like commercial breaks. I need a moment to clear my head.

Opening the door to the dressing room bathroom, I close myself in and turn the lock. This moment calls for some heavy duty yoga breathing. My skirt gathers around me as I sit on the floor, enjoying the cool surface.

Can I do this? I mean, seriously, can I really pull this off?

God, are you up there? Do you hear me?

I don’t know if you’re into Shakespeare, but if you are, I really hope you stop by and help me out. You know, I’m not sure where we stand. I don’t have you all figured out yet. I barely have the math thing under control. But if you do have a purpose for me, and I’m supposed to be here tonight, I just want to ask you for a little help. Help me remember my lines and where to stand. Help me to remember to not turn my back to the audience. And make sure I don’t pull a Stephanie and fall out of a balcony window. And one last thing . . . please let Amy show up and make everything work out between her and the Scotts.

I startle at the knock on the door.

“Katie, you’re up.”

Okay, gotta go. Bye. Er, I mean, Amen.

With my pulse racing faster than a thoroughbred, I follow Bev out into the wings.

She puts her hand to my back and gives me a little push. “Out you go. Break a leg.”

I turn around and frown.

“No, not like Stephanie,” she says. “I mean . . . oh, never mind. It’s your cue.”

And somehow my legs carry me onto the stage. I pause for a moment and take it all in. The lights. The stage. The theatre full of people. And even though I can’t see them for the spotlight, I know James, Millie, Sam, and Maxine are in the front row, cheering me on.

I walk farther onto the stage, entering the scene and deliver my first line. “How now, who calls?”

The crowd erupts into applause.

For me.

My eyes fill, and chills dance along my spine.

And I feel like I’ve just come home.

My movements grow bolder, my voice louder. I lift my chin like I’m royalty.

I
am
Juliet.

On the Valiant stage, I, Katie Parker, step into the spotlight and find Frances was right. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Over a month ago I broke into this theatre.

And tonight—I’m breaking out.

I
grab a
cold bottle of root beer, my third for the night. The production was over hours ago, but everyone involved in the play has moved to the Scotts’ for a cast party. I still have Juliet’s dress on, the last outfit she wears as she stabs herself. The extra padding on top really came in handy when I had to fall to the floor in a dead heap. Never mind that a few tissues slipped out and parachuted into the first row. I’m too giddy to care.

“Katie, you were wonderful. Have I told you that?”

I laugh. “Yes, Bev. Thank you.” I’ve never had so much praise in all my life. I’m eating it like candy.

“I’m headed home; it’s been a long day. But I wanted you to know you really blew me away tonight, and anytime you want to be in one of my plays, you say the word.”

I just want to tattoo all her compliments on myself, so I’ll never lose them. I say good-bye to Bev and go in search of my foster parents.

When I walk past the living room, I find James and some other men discussing the theatre and watching
SportsCenter
. He dips a chip into some queso but jumps up when he spots me in the doorway.

“You’re drinking kind of heavily tonight, aren’t you?” He wipes the cheese off his mouth.

“I’m not the one on the diet.” I elbow him in the stomach. “Don’t worry, though, I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Katie.”

Sometimes I find it hard to make proper eye contact. I guess I’m not the trusting sort. But I look into the face of my foster dad, and I know this guy means what he says. James would never intentionally let me down. He’s the real deal.

“I’m proud of you too.” I step in closer so he can hear me above the noise. “I’m sorry about Amy. I know you’re disappointed.” And even though James was right all along about Amy not showing up, I hope he still thinks there’s a chance one day she’ll come home.

“It’s okay.” He nods. “We’re all okay.”

This tender moment is interrupted by the sound of Maxine yelling from another room. “Limbo time!”

James rolls his eyes. “All right, so not
everyone
is okay.”

I search the rest of the house for Millie and finally find her when I glance outside the kitchen door. I flick the outside light on, and there she sits. By herself on the porch swing.

The creaking of the door opening sounds loud to my ears, as I interrupt Millie’s quiet escape.

“Hey, sweetie.” She smiles, but it’s not too convincing. She needs to get lessons from Stephanie, I guess.

“Whatcha doing out here?” I take the other side of the two-seater swing.

Millie gazes at the stars, and she props her head on her hand. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” My feet rest lightly on the ground, and I use my toes to move the swing.

“About how wonderful you were tonight. You know you were amazing, right?”

I shrug. “Well, I had hoped for totally spectacular, but I’ll take amazing.”

“I knew you could do it. I had faith in you.”

I’m still not sure where I stand on this God business. I’m ready to admit there might be something to it, and I guess I hope there is. But there are still too many uncertainties for me to leap into that unknown right now. Maybe God is why I was taken out of a bad home situation. Maybe it’s God who’s brought me here. And perhaps God allowed me to totally rock tonight on stage.

But this God didn’t fix everything.

“Millie . . . your faith didn’t bring Amy back.”

Somewhere, tree frogs croak, and the cicadas chirp. And it’s a long space of time before Millie speaks.

“No, my faith didn’t bring Amy back. But you know what else I was thinking about out here? I was thinking how I’ve had things all wrong lately.”

Welcome to my world.

“I’ve been talking to you about faith and God, and here I was . . . Well, let’s just say I wasn’t doing a good job of pursuing either one myself.”

Sometimes Christians are like Shakespeare. It’s English, but a totally different version. “I’m not following you.”

“I’ve been praying so hard for Amy to come home. For months. Years.” Millie rubs her arms against the evening chill. “And I have to believe that day is going to come. But tonight I realized God has been faithful.” Millie brushes a tear away. “He brought me you. Do you get that?”

No, not really.

“Katie, when I saw you standing in the spotlight, I just knew. I’ve been praying for a daughter . . . and spending all my time chasing after Amy. But the kid I’m supposed to be taking care of? Well, she’s right here.”

Millie gathers me in her arms, and just like the first day I arrived, I breathe her scent in. It was right then. And it’s still right now.

Swiping at her eyes, my foster mother sniffs then laughs. “Oh, we could use some tissues.”

I stick my hand in my dress and pull out a handful.

Millie laughs and kisses me on the head. “See, Katie Parker, you’re just what I need.”

The stars twinkle and glow above us. We watch the night sky, Millie with her renewed faith, and me with . . . well, whatever it is I have.

I do know some things for sure: I will be returning to the stage. My life doesn’t have to be a catastrophe. And for right now, In Between is where I’m at.

Long live the Chihuahuas.

Four-time Carol award-winning author Jenny B. Jones writes romance with equal parts wit, sass, and Southern charm. Since she has very little free time, she believes in spending her spare hours in meaningful, intellectual pursuits, such as watching bad TV, Tweeting deep thoughts to the world, and writing her name in the dust on her furniture. She is the author of romantic comedies for women such as RITA finalist
Save the Date,
as well as books for teens, like her
Katie Parker Production
series. You can find her at
www.JennyBJones.com
or standing in the Ben and Jerry’s cooler.

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A Katie Parker Production: Act II

Six months into her stay with her foster parents, Katie Parker is finally adjusting to her new family. But when a tornado rips through the town of In Between, nothing is ever the same. When her foster mom, Millie, is diagnosed with cancer, Katie begins to doubt if God really does care. What will happen to Katie? Could she possibly have to leave In Between and the family she’s come to depend on? Things spiral even further out of control when Katie juggles a malfunctioning best friend, Spring Break plans, and holding the attention of her own Prince Charming. It’s going to take more than a glass slipper and some fairy dust to fix Katie’s problems. But will help come in time?

Another
advertisement for feminine products. Is it just a universal law that if you sit down to watch TV with a guy, you are guaranteed at least two tampon commercials?

I sigh with relief when
American Idol
comes back on and focus my attention on the contestant.

“Get off the stage! You can’t sing. Girl, your mother’s been lying to you.”

James, my foster dad, rips the remote control out of my hands. He collapses back into his leather recliner and shouts another piece of artistic advice to the contestant on TV. I watch this fifty-five-year-old pastor howling along to an old Kelly Clarkson hit, and wish I had a mute button for his singing voice.

“How did she get into the top ten?” His intense gaze seeks mine. “Have you ever heard anyone so bad?”

Is this a rhetorical question—like when we girls ask if we look fat?

As the painful song ends, James shouts more criticism and comments at the TV. If his congregation could only see him now, preaching his Simon-like truth to the contestants on
American Idol
, they would drop their NIVs and run. It’s like the evil spirit of pop, rock,
and
disco takes over his body.
So
not pretty.

I eyeball the remote in his hands, clutched in a death grip.
Ah, remote, we used to be so close. Once upon a time we had such good times together
. So much of my life has changed since coming to live with James and Millie Scott. Most of it for the good, but their firm control of my viewing habits still totally bites. I’m used to free reign, trolling through the cable channels to my heart’s content. I mean my own mother’s rules during prime-time viewing hours were that I didn’t interrupt her illegal drug sales. She was all for HBO if it kept me occupied. Those days are so over.

“James, are you watching the weather?”

Millie walks into the living room, a frown on her face. She opens the blinds and looks outside.