Forever

by Karen Kingsbury

  “No. You’re right. The older kids need the stability. I won’t even think about it until next summer, okay?”

  Jenny was overcome with a combination of relief and anxiety, and she tried not to let either show. Only one more year in Bloomington? She loved this city, her involvement with CKT, and her relationship with the other parents. She loved the rolling hills and open farmlands and the proximity to Indiana University, where they could see theater and sporting events, and she loved their recent connection with the Baxter family.

  One more year? What if that’s all they had? Bloomington was the perfect place to raise a family, and the thought of ever leaving put knots in Jenny’s stomach. But for Jim she would’ve moved to the moon and somehow figured out a way to enjoy it. After all, he had pulled out of the NFL for her. She could pull out of Bloomington if it meant seeing him do the job he loved.

  She kissed him and searched his eyes. “You’re sure? You love coaching. I know that.”

  “I am coaching.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Clear Creek High needs me.”

  She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “I love you, Jim Flanigan.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Yuck.” Ricky, their youngest, wrinkled his nose and set down his piece of toast. “I’m never getting married. All that yucky kissing.”

  “I’m getting married.” Shawn raised his fork in the air. “The sooner the better. That way I can love her longer.”

  His brothers turned on him.

  “Sick.”

  “Gross.”

  Shawn pierced the air with his fork again. “Of course, by then I’ll run as fast as a cheetah. If she wants to kiss me, she’ll have to catch me first.”

  Jenny’s heart melted. Shawn, the oldest of their kids adopted from Haiti, was always the tenderhearted child. Tenderhearted and obsessed with animal facts. She could hardly wait to see what God did with that combination in the years to come.

  “All right, guys.” Jim maneuvered his way around Jenny. “Let’s finish eating. The gazebo’s calling us!”

  Jenny gently took hold of his arm. “I’m leaving. The camp’s on the other side of Lake Monroe—at the retreat center. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

  “Be safe. Tell the kids I love ’em.”

  At that instant, Bailey and Connor appeared and piled on top of their dad.

  “We couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.” Bailey planted a kiss on her father’s cheek. “Pray for us, okay?”

  “I will.” Jim chuckled and hugged Connor. “Keep an eye on your sister.”

  “I will.”

  Jenny waved at Jim and the boys and then put her arms around the shoulders of Bailey and Connor. “Let’s go. You’ll wind up sleeping on the floor if we don’t hurry.”

  “True.” Bailey hurried her pace. “I call front.”

  “Katy’s got the front,” Connor pointed out.

  And with that they made their way to the Suburban in the garage, the adventure of teen camp just an hour away. And as the bantering continued, as Katy chatted with Jenny about Dayne Matthews and his struggles with his current film, as Bailey talked to Connor about Bryan Smythe and Connor guessed about whether Sydney or Chelsea would be on the blue team, Jenny couldn’t help but be grateful for one very wonderful thing.

  No matter what the future held, they still had one more year in Bloomington.

  Katy was glad for the distraction.

  CKT teen camp was one of the most anticipated events of the summer, and this year’s group figured to be the best ever. She would roll up her sleeves and dive in, working alongside the other counselors to make sure they somehow had enough time for all the activities scheduled. Katy was heading up the blue team, and her close friend Rhonda was in charge of yellow.

  Beyond that, they had a new guy joining them—Aaron Woods, a twenty-four-year-old youth pastor from a church on the north side of Bloomington. He’d called in February asking how he could help, and Katy had checked his references. He had played football at Oregon State University and had an impeccable résumé. He’d been a speaker at several youth church camps. Katy had him slated for games and the evening talk.

  Even so, she’d be busy from early morning until late night. Which meant she’d have less time to worry about Dayne and the final scenes he was working on with Randi Wells this week. The movie was finished, and the early buzz predicted it would be a huge hit. Maybe Dayne’s biggest. But the director wanted them to retake a few of the love scenes. More kissing, more togetherness. More of everything he thought they’d done so well. Dayne planned to argue that what they had was already perfect. Decisions on the various shots would be made later today.

  Katy’s conversation with Jenny dropped off, and Jenny turned the radio up. The song wasn’t on the Christian station, but it was a popular one by Switchfoot: “Dare You to Move.”

  Katy stared out the window and lifted her eyes to the clear blue sky over Bloomington. Anxiety nipped at her heart. More passionate love scenes between Dayne and Randi? The thought formed a picture in her mind, one she couldn’t dismiss. If only it were Thanksgiving already. He would be ready to move to Bloomington, and she would be wrapping up Cinderella. November was just three months away, but it felt like an eternity.

  The song says it, Lord. Like the enemy is daring me to move, to try and keep on going when the man I love could very well spend the week in the arms of another woman. She kept her prayer silent, between her and God. I don’t want to worry, and I don’t want to be jealous. I know Dayne’s heart belongs to me. But please . . . let him have influence over the director. He’s trying to do the right thing, Father. Go before him this morning.

  She heard no immediate answer, but she felt a sense of knowing deep within her. God would take care of the situation with Dayne. She felt herself relax. The Lord would go before her fiancé, and all week long God would go before her, too. They had work to finish before they could move forward with their wedding plans. And God would help them get things done in a way that brought glory to His name. Dayne’s meeting with the director, her work with the teens—God would be there through all of it, one step at a time. He had brought them this far.

  Certainly He would see them through to Thanksgiving.

  Dayne Matthews stood outside the director’s door five minutes before their scheduled meeting. The rest of the cast didn’t know about the talk they’d planned for today. But Dayne had no choice. All last week he’d dreaded the retakes scheduled for this morning. Ross wanted more passion, but why? When they’d shot the scenes the first time, he’d been thrilled with what they’d caught on film.

  There had even been rumors on the set last week that the director was going to up the ante, offer them a hefty bonus if they’d agree to partial nudity or a steamy shower scene. Dayne wasn’t doing either, no matter what was offered. And if Ross demanded the scenes, he’d simply walk off the set. His agent could work out the details.

  He knocked on the director’s door, and a voice inside said, “Come in.”

  Dayne entered and shut the door behind him. He crossed his arms and drew a long breath. “We need to talk.”

  “Fine.” Ross seemed relaxed. He gestured for Dayne to sit down. “I want your input, Matthews. You know that.”

  Dayne took the seat opposite the director and gripped the chair’s arms. “It’s about the retakes. Why more passion? I don’t get it.”

  Ross stood and walked around his desk. He flashed one of his laid-back grins. “You look uptight, Matthews. Something wrong at home?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Dayne knew better than to rush ahead. His request had to be rational, not based on emotions. He crossed one leg over the other knee. “Remember when we shot the love scenes? You thought they were amazing. So why change them?”

  Ross leaned against the edge of his desk. “More is better. It’s the industry trend. You should know that. More steam, more passion. We reshoot, throw in a few shower and bed scenes, the tabloids get wind of
it, and all of a sudden half of America can’t wait to see what edgy level of acting you and Randi are bringing to the picture.”

  It was the answer Dayne expected. He nodded, thoughtful. “What about the other industry trend? The cleaner the film, the more money it makes.”

  Ross tilted his head. “True.” He allowed an easy laugh. “But with you and Randi, we make money either way.”

  “Okay, here’s the thing.” Dayne planted both feet on the floor. “I have a problem with making the scenes hotter. We do that and we change the whole genre.” He waved his hand in the air, trying not to let his frustration show. “It goes from being a date movie to being an edgy project. And when that happens, we make less money. It’s that simple.” He worked to keep his composure. “At this point in my career I can’t afford to go backward.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes.” Dayne felt a twinge of guilt. He could get his way with this argument, but it wasn’t the entire truth. His faith, his dedication to Katy—those were the real reasons he was uncomfortable with heating up the love scenes. But if he said so, Ross would never take him seriously again. Hollywood didn’t look fondly on a principal actor or actress making requests for morality’s sake. All acting was considered art, regardless of the lines it crossed.

  Ross looked at him for a long time. “You may have a point.”

  “I do.” Again he felt like he wasn’t saying enough. God . . . they’ll think I’m weird.

  “No one lights a lamp and hides it in a jar.” The verse sliced through his conscience. He’d read it at home last night after talking to Katy. He’d been sitting on his balcony, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, when he found the Scripture. As he reread it, he could almost hear God Himself saying the words. Standing right in front of him and making the point.

  The commentary on that verse in his study Bible was even more hard-hitting. Below it in a small shaded box was a paragraph titled “Never Enough Time.” It detailed a young man who had understood God’s mandate to be an example, to let the light within him shine for those around him. But the man kept quiet about the Lord day after day. “Someday, God,” he’d say at night when he prayed. “Someday.” But one day the guy was on his way home from work when an 18-wheeler beside him lost control. In a flash, the man’s life ended and the light he had always intended to shine was put out.

  Dayne had shivered when he read the story. Everything about his life was finally going right. He was engaged to the woman of his dreams, he had plans to leave Hollywood, he’d found his birth family, and they had welcomed him into their lives. Even the tabloids didn’t bother him as much. The idea of having it all end in an instant was sickening.

  Then and there he had promised God that he wouldn’t wait, that he would shine the light of Christ’s truth and grace whenever he had the chance. Dayne understood the score. He’d been given a tremendous light when he accepted Christ as his Savior. But what had he done about it since then? Sure, the light had guided him to make the right decisions about Katy and his connection with the Baxters. But what about his role as a movie star? Had he mentioned God in any interviews or shared more than a passing acknowledgment about faith with his costars?

  And now here he was, hiding the light again. He swallowed hard. “The movie’s good the way it is. It’ll be huge; everyone knows that.”

  The director gave him a wary look. “This isn’t about that Indiana woman, is it?”

  Before he could stop it, the easy answer tumbled across his lips. “It’s acting. I’ll make the film work, whatever it takes.” He tightened his grip on the chair arms. “This time I think cleaner, sweeter, works better. It’ll sell better.”

  The director straightened and made his way slowly around the desk and back to his seat. “I see your point.” He jotted something down on a notepad. When he looked up, his expression said his decision had been made. “We’ll leave it as it is. No more passion, nothing steamy. But let’s retake the entire street scene, the one at the middle of the film. I want you and Randi closer to each other. Get the audience anxious for your first kiss a few scenes later.”

  “Fine.” Dayne stood. “That’ll work.”

  “I know.” Ross wrote something else on his pad. He grinned at Dayne. “Everything you do works. That’s why this film is going to be huge.”

  Dayne thanked Ross, but when he was out in the hall, when the door was shut behind him, he leaned hard against the wall and closed his eyes. He’d had the perfect chance to be a light, to tell the man the truth. That God couldn’t possibly bless a film that was passionate and steamy merely to feed the prurient interests of a select percentage of their audience. It would fail because it was wrong.

  Instead Dayne had taken the low road, the easy way out. The fact that he’d won brought little comfort in light of the opportunity he’d missed.

  He opened his eyes in time to see Randi Wells enter the hallway.

  She smiled when she saw him. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey.” He straightened and faced her. “Talked with Ross.”

  “About?” She reached him, leaned up, and kissed his cheek. The sort of greeting that was common in Hollywood.

  “The retakes. He agrees with me.” Dayne slipped his hands in his pockets. “The film has enough passion already.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment cast shadows on her expression. She touched his chin and let her finger drag softly down his chest. “I was looking forward to the changes.”

  Here it was, another chance. But the more familiar words were out of his mouth first. “We want a hit, right? Wasn’t that the goal?” He smiled at her the way a brother would smile at his petulant younger sister.

  “Of course.” She lowered her chin, giving him her famous pout. “The steamier the better, right?”

  Dayne pursed his lips. “Not anymore, Randi. Clean’s in. Besides—” he crooked his finger and touched it gently to her cheek—“better to have the audience aching for the first kiss than covering the eyes of the kids when things get too hot.”

  Randi thought about that for a minute. Suddenly she dropped the silly, flirty behavior and took on the seriousness that made her an actress in demand. “True. As it is, everyone who sees it will be practically desperate.”

  He nodded to the director’s door. “That’s what I told Ross.”

  “Hmm.” She thought for a few more seconds. “Yeah, good call, Dayne. I like it. So what’ll we work on today?”

  Dayne told her, and all the while she maintained her professional demeanor. But before she left she elbowed him. “Too bad about the change. Really. I was looking forward to today.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant. The look in her eyes told him enough. He smiled at her, keeping the air between them light. “I’ll have to make it up to you.”

  “Oh yeah?” She touched his arm. “Meaning what?”

  He took her hand and slowly moved it back to her side. “Meaning lunch Friday. My treat. Before I fly out.”

  Something in her expression changed. “To Indiana again?”

  “Yes.” He studied her. “How’re things with your husband?”

  She held his gaze, but her lip quivered just a little. “Not good.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” She sniffed and started walking. He fell in beside her. “We lasted longer than most, I guess.” She kept her pace slow, and she looked at him, the kind of look that said whatever she was about to tell him, she was no longer teasing. “What about you and Miss Indiana? Think you’ll make it longer than three or four years?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I know so.”

  She stopped. “You sound so sure.”

  “I am.” Here was another chance to be a light. He held his breath and plunged ahead. “We both have our faith, Randi. Something Hollywood’s forgotten about.” The words felt beyond right as he spoke them. Like the light inside him was screaming to get out. “We’ve made a promise to put God first.”

  She looked doubtful. “And you thin
k it’ll be enough to keep you together?”

  “Yes.” He imagined Katy sitting beside him on the lawn outside their home, the fixer-upper on Lake Monroe. He smiled. “Forever.”

  “Well—” Randi started walking again, her gaze straight ahead—“if you won’t spend the day filming steamy love scenes with me, then the least you can do is take me to lunch on Friday.” She glanced at him. The sadness in her expression was still strong. “Maybe we can talk about forever over a couple of turkey sandwiches.”

  Dayne laughed. “Deal.”

  The camp was only five hours old, and already Bailey’s head was spinning. She’d won the lead role of Dorothy, and Connor was one of four kids who would wear yellow T-shirts and act as a moving yellow brick road. But that wasn’t what made her mind dizzy.

  Tim Reed had the part of the Tin Man, and Bryan Smythe was the Scarecrow. That meant every scene would involve the three of them. Only how was she supposed to handle that? Tim had been around for a long time, a friend more than anything. If she was honest with herself, she’d had a crush on him since their first CKT show. But Bryan . . . everything about him was smooth and deliberate.

  She’d have to call her mother. Talking to her mom always helped her sort through tough situations. She remembered how the morning had gone. Katy had asked them to take their places. “Tin Man on one side of Dorothy. Scarecrow on the other. Link arms. You’re both supposed to think the world of Dorothy. Ready . . . places.”

  Tim had taken one of her arms, but Bryan made sure he caught her eyes as he came up beside her, closer than necessary. “Who said acting was work?” Katy was giving directions to the four kids representing the brick road, so Bryan leaned in and continued. “I could get used to this spot, Bailey. I mean it.”

  “What?” Tim looked at them. His expression said he hadn’t picked up on Bryan’s comments.

  “Nothing.” Bryan winked at her. “Some things aren’t supposed to be shared.”