Sunset: 4 (Sunrise) (17 page)

There had been no word on Cody, no sign of him or his buddies. They were still listed as missing in action, though his superiors told Cody’s mother that they had a few leads that seemed promising. Either way, the fact that he hadn’t been found took away some of Bailey’s thrill that Friday.

It was opening night for
Joseph
, and Bailey and Connor were driving to the theater earlier than the rest of the family. Call time was six o’clock—an hour ahead of the show when all actors had to report to the theater—but the doors didn’t open to the public until half an hour later.

Connor turned to her. “You’re thinking about Cody.” It wasn’t a question.

“He should be here.” Bailey kept her eyes on the road. The radio was turned low, and ahead of her she recognized the Reeds’ car. The theater was only a few miles away.

“It’s hard.” Connor held a big paper bag filled with supplies he’d need for the run of the show. “He joined the army because he wanted to, because he thought it was right.”

“It was right. And it’s right for our country to stand strong against terrorism.” She hesitated, feeling confused. “I’m just saying he should be here.”

After a few minutes of silence, Connor raised his eyebrows in her direction. “Care if we warm up?”

Bailey felt her shoulders fall an inch. “I’m sorry.” She gave him a weary smile. “It’s opening night. It doesn’t help Cody for us to head into the first show feeling all gloomy.”

“No.” Connor had his iPod connected to the car’s radio. He scrolled through a list of songs, and the sound of “Joseph’s Coat” filled the space around them.

They began to sing, warming up their voices, and as they did, the promise of the story lifted Bailey’s spirits. God was in control of all things at all times for all people. Maybe Cody had been thrown into a pit for now—like Joseph had been—but God knew the plans He had for Cody. She would do her friend no good by spending these days worrying.

She reached the theater and parked, and together they grabbed their things and climbed out of the car. As they headed across the street to the old theater, they heard someone behind them.

“Wait up!”

Bailey turned and saw Tim, his arms full of two flats of bottled water. As he reached her and Connor, the three of them slowed to a walk. At the side door, Tim stopped and looked at Connor. “Uh . . . why don’t you go on in, okay?”

Connor looked confused at first, but then he seemed to understand that Tim wanted to talk to Bailey alone. Connor did as he was asked.

When they were alone, Tim faced her and set the water down. “I wrote you a letter.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and grinned. “It wouldn’t fit in a text. I thought maybe you could read it before you go on tonight.”

“That’s really nice.” The gesture was so thoughtful. Sure, they’d been spending time together and texting a ton, but Tim hadn’t ever spelled out his feelings for her. There was no way of even telling if he saw her as more than a friend. Butterflies danced around in her stomach, and she was grateful for the growing darkness overhead, glad he couldn’t see the color in her cheeks.

“I know I’m in a teaching role, and I can’t really talk to you once everyone’s here. But I wanted you to know what I’ll be thinking out there in the audience.” He gave her a quick hug. “You’re going to be amazing tonight, Bailey. I can feel it.” He released her, but their eyes met and held. “I’ll be praying for you.” He bent down and picked up the flats of water. “Got to get these to the refreshment people.” He smiled at her one last time, then headed up a set of stairs toward a different door than the one actors used.

Bailey watched him go, and before he went inside, he stopped and looked at her once more. Chills ran over her arms and down her spine. Was this really happening? Was he really falling for her?

She ran down the steps to the greenroom entrance and glanced at her watch. She had time to read his letter, but not in the greenroom with everyone watching, wondering what was so important. Instead she darted down a hallway and into the dark, empty kitchen. She hit the light and moved to the corner where no one would see her even if they passed by the open door.

The letter wasn’t long, just one page, one side. The butterflies doubled as she opened the piece of paper and held it up.

I guess I have two things to tell you. I figured I’d do a better job if I wrote them. Otherwise I’d chicken out and never say this. Anyway, first, I want to apologize. I know I’ve never been that easy to understand, and I’m sorry about that. It was never because of you. I always liked you. From the time we were in Tom Sawyer together.

Bailey balanced herself against the rickety old refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen. She had dreamed of getting a letter like this from Tim, hoped for so many years that he might really be developing feelings for her. But Tim had been so flaky in his attention toward her. Glad to see her one day and able to get through an entire CKT practice without so much as a hello another time. After a while she’d given up. Cody was living with them by then, and he was becoming the friend Tim had never really been. But now . . .

She found her place and kept reading.

Bailey’s excitement fell off by a percentage. It wasn’t bad being single? Was that supposed to make her feel good about whatever they were building together? She pursed her lips and finished the letter.

It makes me dream that maybe one day you and me and Connor might all be living in New York City and being a light for God. I really think it could happen. I guess that’s all. I wanted you to know before you go onstage tonight. You’re blowing me away with your role as narrator. So go break a leg! I’ll talk to you later after the party when no one’s around to gossip about us.

Your friend,

Tim

Bailey made a face. She read the letter once more all the way through and tried to figure out what she was feeling. Once, when she was sixteen, her parents had taken them to a fancy steakhouse in downtown Indianapolis. For weeks her dad had built the place up, telling them that the steak was better than any he’d ever eaten. Amazing broccoli casserole and potatoes and salad and bread. When they finally reached the restaurant that Sunday evening, the whole family was ready for the best dinner of their life.

Only, when Bailey was halfway through her broccoli, she lifted a forkful to her mouth and there, stuck between two pieces of broccoli, was a dead fly. Bailey dropped her fork and had to excuse herself to the bathroom so she wouldn’t be sick. She never did end up tasting the steak or finishing her meal. Everything good about it was ruined by a single dead fly.

That was how she felt now. Okay, so Tim was admitting he liked her. Something she and her mom had talked about and something she had at times dreamed about. But he was also saying he was truly happy having no girlfriend at all. Then the part about her skills as an actress? His compliment felt cheap and . . . Bailey couldn’t quite figure out why it bothered her. Maybe because he came across arrogant, saying only “a handful of us” had a future at theater. And how about the part where he didn’t want to be seen with her? A guy should be willing to stand up to the gossip and look the other way. Who cared what people said? As long as he didn’t show her any affection or extra attention when he was in the role of teacher, there shouldn’t be a problem. But he hadn’t blamed his leadership role as the reason. He’d blamed the offstage drama. Why did it matter so much?

She frowned at the letter, folded it, and placed it back in the envelope. As she walked to her place in the greenroom in the basement of the theater, and as she found her costume on the back of her chair, she couldn’t help but think of the one person who never would’ve said such a thing.

Cody.

But then . . . Cody wasn’t interested in her. If they ever found him and rescued him, if he ever made it back to the United States safely, then he was moving as far away from her as possible. So maybe there was some merit to Tim’s idea of moving to New York City and pursuing a career in musical theater.

Her thoughts were so confused that by the time she started to apply her stage makeup, she could no longer remember the words to the opening song, a solo she was scheduled to sing. She hung her head and gripped the edge of the table where her mirror and makeup were spread out.
Please clear my mind, God. Tim’s right, anyway. Being single really is better—at least for now. And please . . . wherever Cody is, be with him. Help the people looking for him so he can be found. Thank You.

She lifted her head, and Connor was standing beside her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She stood, and at the same instant the words to the song came back to her. “I just need to get onstage.”

Connor wanted to ask her about Tim, about what was so important that he had to talk to her alone outside. She knew her brother well enough to see that in his eyes. But instead he only smiled and patted her back. “Yeah. Me too.”

The hour passed quickly, and she and Sydney and Julia formed a small cluster and went over their key songs. With every word, every note, Bailey felt herself drawing closer to the part, owning her role as narrator. And with every minute that passed, all thoughts of Tim and even Cody left her.

They circled up in the greenroom, the entire cast holding hands. Katy placed herself in the circle and grinned at the group. “You all look wonderful. God is really going to use this show. I can sense it.” She looked up at the cement ceiling and exposed water pipes. “Let’s sing.”

Singing a song of praise to God was one of the CKT traditions Bailey would miss most when the next three weeks of shows were finished. Emotion built in her eyes as the song started. “‘We love You, Lord . . . and we lift our voice . . .’”

Bailey held on to each word, each refrain. While preparing for the show, she hadn’t given much thought to the obvious. She was eighteen now, and this was the last show until summer. Which meant Bailey could try out for the fall and winter shows next year, but after that she’d be too old to perform with CKT.

Softly and with beautiful harmonies, the song continued. “‘. . . to worship You, O my soul, rejoice! Take joy, my King, in what You hear. May it be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear.’”

When the song ended, Katy led them in a brief but powerful prayer. As they took their places, as Bailey, Sydney, and Julia walked onto the stage to begin the show, Bailey was overwhelmed by the truth in what Katy had told them. The message of Joseph was a lasting and powerful one.

Now it was time to share it with the people of Bloomington.

Katy found her seat up in the balcony, the place where she always sat for opening night. Only this time she didn’t have to watch the door for signs of Dayne or wonder if he was coming or what he was doing out in Hollywood. He was right here beside her. She leaned into his arm. “I’m a nervous wreck.”

He smiled at her. “You have no reason. These kids could take this show to Broadway. They’re way beyond prepared.”

She relaxed some and placed her hands on her rounded stomach. The baby had been particularly active today. “Really? You think they’re ready?”

“Absolutely.”

The houselights were still up, and Katy looked back toward the lobby. There on the wall were portraits of Sarah Jo Stryker and Ben Hanover, the two CKT kids killed by a drunk driver a few years ago. With the new start-up of CKT, the newspaper had done another article on all the theater group had gone through and how they had pulled together after the deaths of Sarah Jo and Ben and then again with the near loss of their theater.

Katy settled back in her seat.

“What’re you thinking?” Dayne gripped her hand, his warmth and strength a constant support.

“What it took . . . all we’ve gone through to be here tonight.” Her emotions were running high tonight, and Katy was certain they’d stay that way. “The Hanovers are here. Sarah Jo’s mother too.” She stared at the stage, at the thick velvet curtains stretched across the front. “Apparently the drunk driver wrote to both families. Mrs. Hanover told me a few minutes ago.”

Dayne’s expression reminded her that he too had been a part of that sad time. “What did he say?”

“He’s changed. Gave his life to God and joined a Bible study in prison. He’s actually mentoring a few guys.” She squinted at the stage and envisioned sweet Sarah Jo playing Becky Thatcher in
Tom Sawyer
, singing in all her glory. “Every day he thinks about the kids he killed. He said he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make something good of himself. In their memory.”

“Makes me wonder . . .” Dayne’s attention was on the stage also. “How much of that came from your visit.”

“Hmm.” Katy hadn’t thought about that. “Could be. He was pretty shaken up that day.” She remembered that afternoon, the day she took a group of CKT kids to jail so they could see the young man responsible for the deaths of their friends. Bailey, Connor, Tim, and a dozen others took turns greeting the guy and forgiving him. “I guess something like that could change a person.”

“Because without God none of you could’ve done that.”

“True.”

They were silent for a minute, lost in thoughts of the past.

“Did you ever imagine . . . ?”

“I’d be here on a night like this?” Katy peered at him. “Never.”

The houselights went down, and darkness draped the theater. A hush fell over the crowd.

Katy touched her lips to Dayne’s and held his gaze. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He searched her eyes. “I should’ve done it sooner.”

She smiled.

A spotlight appeared at center stage, and all eleven of Joseph’s brothers filed out. Working in character and with great comedic timing, they informed the audience that it was time to turn off cell phones and there would be snacks at intermission.

Katy was still thinking about Sarah Jo and Ben, the drunk driver, and something Ashley had told her. She’d been reading from the book of Psalms, and she’d come across a verse about God’s redemption in all things. His faithfulness. It was true for the tragedy CKT had gone through in losing two precious kids, and it was true in the trials she and Dayne had survived.

Katy remembered the phone call she’d gotten from Rhonda earlier today. “Tell everyone to break a leg,” Rhonda had said. And then she’d shared about how happy she was, how she and Chad were loving their work with CKT and loving each other most of all. Their wedding had been moved to August because that was the soonest they could get the church they wanted, but their relationship was getting stronger all the time. “It’s like a dream. Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life.”

Indeed.
A warmth filled Katy’s soul. The music began, and the three narrators took the stage, Bailey leading the way. If there was one message Katy hoped people would take away from the production of
Joseph
, it was this: God was faithful. He was a redemptive Father and Creator, and He always kept His word.

Dayne had a framed Scripture in his newly decorated office at their lake house. It was from John 16:33. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

“A reminder,” Dayne had told Katy, “that life doesn’t always have a happy ending. But in the end, if we believe, we all win anyway.”

She reached for his hand, loving the way her fingers felt woven between his. CKT was theirs, and it always would be. This was how they could truly love the kids in their community with the gifts God had given them. Along the way, they could teach kids about God, the way the story of Joseph taught them. That when God’s people were suffering in the midst of a trial, they needed only to remember what Joseph remembered, the truths that kept him sane during his days in Egypt.

God loved them, and God was in control.

The show was over, the bows about to begin, and Ashley couldn’t stop smiling. Opening night was everything she’d hoped it would be. Bailey, Sydney, and Julia were brilliant as narrators, and Connor’s performance as Joseph brought tears to her eyes. Sarah Nordlund also did well, and more than that, her mother reported that during Sarah’s time among the CKT kids, her diabetes didn’t make her feel quite so different.

But the most touching part for Ashley was seeing Cole onstage for the first time, watching him sing with the ensemble, his hands outstretched. If Ashley had her way, this would be the first of many CKT plays for Cole and one day maybe for Devin and their newest little boy. It didn’t matter the size of the role, just that the kids took part at all. In
Joseph
, Cole was playing the son of Joseph’s brother Simeon, and in the weeks leading up to opening night he had asked her a number of questions about the Bible story of Joseph.

“You know, Mom, I’m kinda like Joseph,” Cole deduced one night after another question-and-answer session.

“How’s that?” Ashley was feeding Devin in his high chair, and Landon was at work.

“Well, my life was really great, but I didn’t have my dad. It took a whole lot of waiting before God brought us all together.”

During the curtain call, Cole’s group of actors took the stage first to a rousing round of applause. Ashley joined the others on their feet. She rested one hand on her belly and put her other arm around Landon. They would be an all-boy family, but that didn’t mean they’d spend their lives entirely in a gym or on a field. Maybe there would be these moments too, when her love for the arts lived clearly in her sons.

Landon had Devin in his arms, and the boy clapped as loud as anyone. “Coley!” he cried over the noise of the cheering crowd. “My Coley!”

The next group came onstage and the next, and finally the lead actors took their bows. Then the entire cast raised their hands to the light booth and then to the band—their way of giving credit to the ones who made the show possible. They finished by doing something that set CKT apart from other theater groups. They raised their hands straight up, shining eyes lifted toward heaven.

Ashley felt a rush of sweet sadness and unfathomable joy. Yes, it was all thanks to God. The theater, the show . . . and the fact that like Joseph, Cole had a daddy and not one brother but two.

The lights came up, and the kids filed down into the audience.

As soon as Cole had a chance, he ran to them. He hugged Landon first, then her. “Did you see me? I was right up front in that one song.”

“We did.” Ashley hugged him.

All around them kids were greeting their parents and congratulations were being handed out. Cameras were everywhere as cast members took pictures with their family members who had come to see the show. Ashley could see that Brooke and Kari and their families were making their way through the crowd toward them.

“Hey, buddy!” There was no hiding the pride in Landon’s expression. “You were great!”

“Thanks. I still like baseball and basketball better. But guess what? They’re doing
Peter Pan
in the summer, so I’ll probably try out again.”

Ashley could almost picture Cole as Michael or John, one of the Darling children in
Peter Pan
. Her happiness spilled into a laugh, because she didn’t need to wonder any longer. There would indeed be more nights like this.

Devin strained against Landon’s arms. “Devin down!” Landon released him, and he rushed to his big brother. He raised his hands in the air. “Coley!” Then he flung his arms around Cole’s waist.

“Hey, Dev.” Cole rubbed his head. “You liked the show?”

Devin hopped around Cole in response, and Cole laughed, the way he often did these days when he was with his younger brother. “You know what I was thinking?” Cole turned teasing eyes to Ashley and then to Landon. “If Joseph could have so many brothers, maybe I could too.” He shrugged. “We already have two, so we’re on our way.”

Ashley laughed harder. “You’re lucky to have two.”

Cole grinned at her. “Yeah, I know.” He looked at Landon. “It was worth a try.”

The rest of their family gathered around then. Ashley’s dad and Elaine were there and Luke and Reagan and the kids. Even in the happy theater crowd, Ashley could tell things were still strained between her younger brother and his wife. She put the thoughts from her head. This wasn’t the time to think about that.

Cole made his way around the group, accepting hugs and congratulations from everyone and taking a dozen photos with them. Hayley and Jessie seemed somewhat shy around Cole, as if they were a little starstruck by his performance.

Even Maddie told him what a good job he’d done. “Next time I’m gonna try out too,” she told him. “Because girls are better dancers.”

“And boys are better baseball players.” Cole winked at her.

For the first time Maddie had no retort. She hesitated and then her face lit up and she grabbed Cole’s hand. “Let’s go say hi to Aunt Katy and Uncle Dayne.”

The crowd was thinning, most people already headed off to Burgerland for the opening night party. Ashley talked a few more minutes with her sisters and Reagan while the guys chatted a few feet away.

Finally Landon came up beside her. “We better go. The burgers’ll be sold out.”

Ashley was about to round up the boys when a couple and their son walked over. The boy was in the show, one of the middle school actors onstage, but his family was new to CKT and Ashley hadn’t gotten to know them well. She wasn’t even sure of the woman’s name. Ashley and Landon turned toward them, and Ashley thought they looked strangely tentative, nervous almost.

“Hi.” The man took a step forward and shook Landon’s hand. “We’re the Franklins. I’m Tom.” He put his arm around the woman. “This is my wife, Carol, and our son, Bobby.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar, and Ashley figured it was from working with the cast list.

“I’m Landon.” He smiled. “Nice to meet you. The kids were great tonight, huh?”

“Yes, but . . . well . . .” Tom looked to his wife and then back at Landon. “My wife and I . . . Can I ask . . . are you a firefighter?”

“I am.” Clearly Landon was equally curious about where the conversation was headed.

Carol put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “We wanted to thank you.”

Tom cleared his throat. His lower lip quivered. “See . . . Bobby was the boy from the apartment fire seven years ago.”

Ashley’s mind raced, and the floor beneath her seemed to turn to liquid. “You mean—” she looked at the boy—“he’s the one?”

“He is. He’s twelve now.” Tears filled Carol’s eyes. “I didn’t put it together until I saw your husband enter the theater with you. We knew the man’s name was Landon Blake and that Blake was your name.” She turned to Landon. “When we saw you tonight we recognized you.”

“From your picture in the paper.” Tom looked deep at Landon, to the vicinities of his heart where only a father could relate. “Bobby’s our only child. We can’t have more.” He bit his lip. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if . . .”