Sunrise (7 page)

Next to him, Dayne could feel Ricky start to shake. He looked, and sure enough, the boy had covered his face and he was crying.

“Why’d he have to go and drink that alcohol?” Anger colored Justin’s expression. “He promised he wouldn’t do that.”

“Could he die?” BJ blinked back tears.

This wasn’t the time for nice-sounding answers. These boys were only years away from facing the same kinds of decisions. Dayne bit his lip. “Yes, he could die.” He looked at the sad and scared faces around him. “When people drink too much alcohol, they sometimes die because of it.” He reached out and took hold of Ricky’s hand. “That’s why we’re going to pray for him right now.”

Justin was the natural leader among the brothers, no question. It showed in everything he did, and this was no exception. “Can I pray first?” Katy told him yes, and he folded his hands and bowed his head, drawing a shaky breath. “Dear God, Dad says You brought Cody into our lives for a reason. But now he’s sick in the hospital, and I don’t think we had enough time to help him.” Justin’s voice broke, but he continued anyway. “Please don’t let him die. He needs to learn about You so he can see that he doesn’t need to drink that junk. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Justin’s prayer started a chain reaction, and the boys took turns asking God to heal Cody. Ricky prayed that the Lord would “give our friend Cody just one more chance.”

When they were finished, everyone had tears on their cheeks, and Dayne was sure he’d been part of something very special. The room felt filled with the presence of God in a way Dayne had never experienced before. Because until now he’d never been around children whose faith was so sweet and strong.

Dayne and Katy tucked the boys into bed and shifted the conversation to the front yard football game. By the time they turned off the lights, the boys were still sad, but they weren’t crying.

After the doors to both bedrooms were shut, Dayne and Katy headed for the stairs. When they reached the first step, Dayne stopped and leaned against the wall. “That was amazing.”

“
You
were.” Katy eased her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “I think I love you more right now than ever before. You’re so good with those boys, Dayne. I was watching you and thinking of everything we have ahead of us, and . . . I don’t know. I could barely breathe.”

Dayne kissed the top of her head. “I felt the same way. Watching you read to them.” He pulled back a little and found her eyes. “And that talent you have in the kitchen . . . wow, Katy.”

She gave him a light punch on the arm. “Thanks.” She took his hand and led the way down the stairs. “We’ll be married fifty years before I ever live that one down.”

Dayne laughed. “Maybe not even then.”

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dayne could hardly wait until Katy was reading Dr. Seuss to their own children, kids who would understand God and trust Him the way the Flanigan kids did.

Now it was a matter of holding tight to real life in a real place like Bloomington and enjoying every moment along the way.

Katy’s heart was full as she reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the sofa where they’d watched the basketball game earlier. Dayne could tease about her cooking, but she could sense what he was feeling, how the bedtime ritual upstairs had touched him the same way it had touched her.

When he was seated on the couch beside her, she pulled up her legs and faced him. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad someday, Dayne Matthews.”

“I’ve played one in the movies.” He grinned and reached for her hand.

“Never mind the movies. I mean right here in Bloomington in our lake house, with me and whatever kids God blesses us with down the road.”

His look went deep, to the private areas of her heart where only he was allowed. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“It’s true. The boys could’ve been upset all day. You knew just what it would take to make the day fun and still have Cody on their hearts when it was time for bed.”

“I loved it.” Dayne’s smile faded. “It’s what I would’ve had if I’d grown up here.” The seriousness of his tone, his expression, didn’t last long. The corners of his lips curved again. “But at least I have it now.” He leaned close and gave her a tender kiss, just brief enough to be careful. “And one day we’ll share this same kind of life with our kids.”

“But first we have to get married.” Katy loved this—the way she and Dayne could tease each other. “I haven’t heard much about the plans.”

“Ah, my secret weapon.” Dayne turned and brought one leg onto the couch. “Everything came together this morning. I was going to tell you, but, well . . . a football game broke out instead.”

“And a basketball game.”

“That too.”

She laughed. “Okay, so tell me.”

“Her name’s Wilma Waters, and she’s the best wedding coordinator in Hollywood.”

A wedding coordinator? Katy gulped and tried not to show a negative reaction. Of course they’d have a wedding coordinator. That’s what people with money did, right? And now that she was marrying Dayne, she fit into that category. But she hadn’t thought about a wedding coordinator. She tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was “Wow.”

“I know. I can’t believe she was available.”

“Lucky for us.” Katy did her best to sound sincere, but she was struggling. She’d figured Dayne was talking to someone who could help them pull off a secret wedding. But a coordinator? It sounded so . . . so impersonal. The people she knew didn’t hire wedding coordinators. They gathered their friends and family and planned a wedding themselves. “Meaning . . . she handles everything?”

“Everything!” Dayne didn’t pick up on her hesitancy. “She takes care of the guest list and the location, the flowers and the theme colors, the decorations and whatever else you need for the perfect wedding.” He held out his hands. “But the best part is, she’s an expert at keeping the whole thing a secret from the media.”

Katy reminded herself to exhale. Here was the first piece of good news, news she could relate to. “We’ll need that.”

“We will.” Dayne rested his arm along the back of the couch. “Wilma agreed the breaking point is usually fifty people. If your list is fifty or fewer guests, she can almost guarantee the press won’t find out. But when it’s more than that, it takes a full-blown plan to pull it off.”

“But she thinks we can do it?”

“She does.”

Katy heard the patter of little feet on the stairs and the muffled sound of tears. Before either of them could ask who was out of bed, Ricky rounded the corner. His blond hair was messy from the pillow, and he was rubbing his eyes. Ricky was a sleepwalker and he slept light, though he’d been doing better lately. But every now and then he found a way back downstairs after lights-out.

Katy whispered in Dayne’s direction, “He has a hard time getting to sleep.”

Dayne nodded. “Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?”

Ricky squinted. He came close and looped his arm around Dayne’s neck. “They won’t let me win.”

“They won’t . . . ?” Dayne directed a questioning look at Katy.

“Sleepwalking,” she mouthed.

Understanding filled his eyes. He put his arm around Ricky’s waist. “They won’t let you win?”

“No.” Ricky did a dramatic shake of his head. His eyes were open and filled with fear and frustration. But he had that look he always had when he sleepwalked. “Every time I try they won’t let me.”

Dayne hesitated. “Okay . . . now they said they’ll let you. The next time you try you’ll win for sure.”

Katy’s heart melted. Dayne was compassionate with the child, and she realized that other than her CKT kids, she hadn’t seen him interact with children before. They’d talked about kids, but this was the first time she’d seen Dayne act like a daddy. She kept watching.

The fear in Ricky’s eyes faded, and he yawned. His arm was still around Dayne’s neck, and now he added his other arm for a full hug. “That’s all I wanted.” He pulled back and shrugged. “But they wouldn’t let me win.”

“They will now.” Dayne’s voice was confident, his tone reassuring.

“I don’t have to win every time.” He blinked, and his face looked more alert, as if maybe he was waking up a little.

“I know.” Dayne stood and took Ricky’s hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Katy smiled. She pulled one knee close to her chest and watched Dayne lead Ricky across the room and around the corner up the stairs.

After a few minutes, she heard Dayne quietly coming back down. When he came into view, he stopped and pressed his hand to his heart. “I love that kid. We get to his room, and he asked if Cody was home yet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Dayne took his place facing her on the sofa again. “I told him that Cody was still in the hospital, and we’d have to keep praying for him.” He smiled. “So the little guy yawns and says Cody’s going to be fine. Jesus already told him.”

“He’s a sweetheart.” Katy looked at a portrait of the Flanigan family that hung on the wall near the patio door. “It’s always interesting to me how Ricky was the one who had emergency heart surgery when he was three weeks old, and now he’s the one with the most tender heart.”

“I forgot about that.”

“His scar goes from the middle of his back and curves around his shoulder blade to his side. He’s perfectly fine now. A real miracle boy.”

Dayne put his arm on the back of the sofa and leaned his head against his fist. “How many kids, Katy? Two? Three?” He grinned. “Six like the Flanigans?”

Katy laughed. “Probably not six.” They’d talked about this before, but their answers changed every time. “Jenny told me they planned on two, but God planned on six.” She raised one shoulder. “That could happen, I guess.”

“I guess.” Dayne looked like he felt dizzy at the thought. “We could have ten, and the way God’s been with us, He’d see us through somehow.”

“He would.” Katy reached out and took his hand. She loved that here away from Hollywood and the pace of his filming schedule, their conversations sounded like they belonged to people with perfectly normal lives. Not the insane paparazzi chase and movie contracts and filming schedules that had dominated their talks when he lived in Los Angeles.

Katy ran her thumb over Dayne’s fingers. “As long as you get your little girl.”

Dayne gave a slow shake of his head. “I can’t imagine how it would feel, watching you have a baby and holding my daughter for the first time. It’s something I barely let myself dream about. Especially after . . .”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Katy knew he was thinking about the baby he lost, the one that had been aborted. “That moment will be special in a lot of ways.”

“Yes.” After a few seconds he grinned. “I can only say heaven help the boy who tries to date any girl of mine.”

Katy wanted to slide closer and kiss him, tell him she felt the same way and that—girl or boy—she could hardly wait for that day. Instead she leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “I guess we better talk about the wedding.”

“Before we plan the nursery, you mean?” A crooked smile flashed on his face.

“Yes. Before that. Now this wedding coordinator . . . do we get input?” Katy kept her tone light. “Or do we tell her what we want and she does the rest?”

Dayne released her hand and sat straighter. There was no denying his excitement as he talked about having Wilma on their side. “She’ll do as much or as little as we want.” His eyes lit up, the way they always did when they talked about the wedding. “She’s flying into Indianapolis on Monday, meeting us at the Hyatt.”

The meeting at the Hyatt had all the makings of a media circus. She wrinkled her nose. “What about the press?”

“Wilma’s coming with ideas.” Dayne slid a little closer. His voice told her there was nothing to worry about and no need to talk about the wedding further until they had their meeting with Wilma. “The main thing is privacy. After my accident . . . I want to keep it a secret from the tabloids. If they find out . . .” He looked away for a few seconds. “If they find out, it’ll be like having the person who tried to kill you crash the biggest day of your life.” His tone was still gentle, but the muscles in his jaw flexed. “I won’t have it.”

Katy understood. Until Thanksgiving, they’d been so consumed with getting Dayne well enough to walk, well enough to fly to Bloomington, that there had been no talk about the wedding or flowers or cakes or churches. None of the usual things an engaged couple talked about. And now—clearly—Dayne trusted Wilma Waters. They could share their ideas with her, and she would have the momentous task of helping them plan a secret ceremony. It didn’t matter where that would take place—at Bloomington Community Church or on the lawn of their lake house—so much as that they pulled off that one crucial detail.

Keeping it from the press.

Dayne was rubbing his leg, the one he’d nearly lost in the accident.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.” He smiled, but his face was shadowed by a look that was common since he woke from his coma. “The game was probably a little much.”

Feelings welled up inside Katy. Pride for how far he’d come since the accident and sorrow over how close she’d been to losing him. In some ways, she still couldn’t believe that they were here, having the most normal of days. Katy put her hand on his knee. She wanted to know if she was right about the look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about the accident.”

Dayne’s emotions were raw and easy to read. Indebtedness for all the hours she’d spent by his side, praying for him, believing he’d pull through. And a love so strong and honest it almost hurt. He covered her hand with his. “Am I that obvious?”

“There’s a look you get.” Katy tilted her head, hoping he could feel the way her heart went out to him. “I always figure you’re thinking about the accident when I see that look.”

Dayne averted his gaze. “Sometimes I see it happening again. I’m driving along, and Randi Wells is in front of me, and I see the paparazzi come up on either side of her.” He blinked and turned back to Katy. “They’re pressing in on her, trying to snap a picture at forty miles an hour, and she’s jerking her car left and right, all nervous. The rest of it happened too fast to remember, except for the truck . . . the way it came straight at me. I can see that the same as I did when it happened.”

Katy didn’t say anything for a while. She held his knee a little tighter and swallowed back a wave of sadness and terror. The accident so easily could’ve killed him. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re really here. That you’re well enough to even sit beside me.”

“The part that still needs work is my heart.” He made a frustrated face. “I keep thinking I’m over it, not angry at the paparazzi anymore. They were just doing their job, you know?”

“But they were doing it illegally.” Katy felt her own anger ignite. “What happened that day was completely their fault.”

“I said that exact thing to Bob the other day when he called. And Bob told me I had to be careful.” Dayne was still having weekly conversations with Bob Asher, his missionary friend in Mexico, and he was glad for the challenge of getting to know God and understanding His Word better.

Katy wasn’t sure where Dayne was going with this. “About what?”

“Getting a hard heart. Staying mad at them and holding it against them anytime I’m around a photographer. Bob said all that’ll do is hurt me.”

Again Katy thanked God for the wisdom of Bob Asher. The guy seemed to always come through at the right time with the words Dayne needed to take the next step in his faith. Katy hadn’t thought much about it, but Bob was right. Dealing with his feelings toward the paparazzi was something Dayne would have to do—especially once he returned to Los Angeles.

Maybe sooner, if the banquet manager at the Hyatt hadn’t kept quiet about their Monday meeting.

Dayne lowered his leg to the floor and ran his fingers along Katy’s face. “I’ve just had the best day ever.” He cupped the back of her head with his hand and studied her. “I don’t want to talk about the paparazzi.”

Katy was always amazed at how quickly her feelings could intensify when Dayne was close to her this way. Suddenly she couldn’t think from the nearness of him. “Dayne . . .” She was going to tell him that maybe they should step outside, sit on the front porch glider, and look at the stars—anything to keep from getting too close to him.