She dumped her cereal down the sink, rinsed the bowl, not hungry all of a sudden. “I’m looking into that, just so you know. Drew knows someone who can help, maybe.”
He nodded. “That’s nice of him.”
She set the bowl in the dishwasher and shut the door. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Madison slipped her arms into the sweater and glanced in the oval time-speckled mirror. She wore a white skirt, a red sweater, and a year’s supply of makeup. She sat at the tiny dressing table and began curling her hair. Dottie had opened up her home for the cast to ready themselves in.
Volunteers had worked hard all week to set up a makeshift stage. A group from church had worked to replace costumes and props, and art students from Chapel Springs High had come in after school and assisted with the new set. They’d had two rehearsals on their new stage, the last one running late into the night. The hoarseness had left her voice, and the only remnant of the fire was the heap of brick and ash.
She wound a strand of hair in the curling iron and noticed her hands shaking.
Nerves. She wasn’t sure what was causing them: the imminent opening night performance or her conversation with Beckett the week before. She couldn’t expunge it from her mind. The way he’d pulled his hand from hers. The way he’d stood, so abruptly the picnic table had tilted.
But inside she understood. He wanted someone without the baggage. Her life was messed up, she couldn’t deny it. He’d seen her fall apart on her birthday, then days later she’d lashed out at him. She’d come unhinged twice in a matter of days, had practically lost her job. What man wouldn’t be spooked?
She was on her way to becoming a healthier, happier person though. She was journaling every day and was starting to sleep better. She’d slept until almost nine this morning, unheard of. She hadn’t had the nightmare in over a week, and she couldn’t help but think she’d turned a corner. She was nearly fit to return to work. Thank you, Jesus. For the rest, for the peace, despite the storms.
One of the actors bumped her table as he scurried past her corner. “Sorry, Madison!”
The other actors dashed through the bedrooms, looking for props and wigs. Opening night began in thirty minutes, and she could already hear the buzz of the audience through the open window. The whole community was coming out to support the animal shelter. Even the nursing home was running shuttles. News of the fire had only spurred support.
Beckett would come, of course, to watch his sister. Knowing he’d be there made her nerves jangle more. It would be awkward, performing those intimate scenes with Drew, knowing Beckett was watching.
Stop it, Madison.
She couldn’t be thinking of Beckett. She had to put him from her mind for the next few hours and concentrate on her part. She owed it to her fellow actors, to the audience.
She slipped a chunk of hair into the curling iron and wound it up. Her phone vibrated on the tabletop. She set the iron down and answered.
“Hi, honey,” Mom said. “Just wanted to wish you luck.”
“Break a leg,” Dad added.
“Thanks. I’m starting to get nervous.”
“You’ll be great, as always,” Mom said. “I’m so glad they were able to get the square set up so quickly.”
“I know. It took a lot of people to make it happen.”
“We’d better go, Jo,” Dad said. “We’re picking up your grandpa on the way,” he told Madison.
“I’ll see you at the party afterward.”
Madison turned off the phone and greeted Layla as she dashed by in her lab coat costume. The opening night party for the cast and crew and their families was being held at the town hall after the play. Her parents and some of the other families had been preparing for it all day.
Drew squeezed her shoulder as he passed, ducking to meet her eyes in the mirror. “You ready for this?”
“Ready or not.”
His pathologist friend from Chicago had agreed to look into the autopsy report, but he’d warned her these things could take awhile.
“You’ll be great. Just don’t forget that last bit of blocking we added in act 2.”
“I’ve been going over it in my head all day.” That and so many other things.
“Drew,” Celeste Parker called. “I need help with this bandage.”
“A doctor’s work is never done,” Madison said.
He patted his pager. “Tell me about it.”
Madison’s lips parted. “Oh, Drew, please tell me you’re not on—”
“Just kidding,” he said, eyes twinkling.
She swatted him as he walked away.
CHAPTER FORTY
BECKETT SETTLED DEEPER INTO THE METAL CHAIR AS LAYLA appeared, the spotlight following her long-legged gait across the makeshift stage. She looked like a beautiful nerdy doctor in a lab coat and black-framed glasses. She delivered her lines with perfection and exited the stage. It was her third and final appearance.
A hush had fallen over the packed square as the play neared its end. The production had gone smoothly except for a curtain malfunction and a slight stumble by a minor character.
Beckett had arrived as the play started and slinked into a back-row seat. He was tired of the looks he’d been getting all week. Some sympathetic, some disgusted. He should be used to it by now. But this latest shenanigan of his dad’s was worse than anything he’d done before. The cause of the fire hadn’t been released yet, but this nonsense with his dad had to stop. Beckett was going to take action soon.
Seeing Madison onstage had been hard. He’d been over their last conversation so many times, he’d memorized it. And there was plenty he wished he could forget. Like the look in her eyes when he’d distanced himself from her. The way she’d caught her trembling lip between her teeth just before she’d left.
It had been hard enough tonight just seeing her, but watching Madison and Drew feign love . . . that was torture. He had a knot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the coming climax.
Maybe that’s because they’re so good together, O’Reilly, you ever think about that? Of course he thought about it. How could he help it, when the two had flaunted it all over the stage? If there wasn’t chemistry between them, they both deserved Oscars.
The man beside him let out a soft snore. Beckett envied him the escape.
A few minutes later the stage lights dimmed as the scene ended, then came back up. Madison was sitting on a bed in a robe. Someone knocked at the door. She opened it to Drew. He wore a navy suit that looked as if it had been tailored for him. Their practice was evident in the easy delivery of lines and their natural movement around the stage.
Drew reached out and touched Madison’s shoulder.
Beckett stiffened, the knot inside tightening as he recognized the dialogue. It was the scene they’d been rehearsing in the park when Beckett had rushed in like a raging maniac.
He forced himself to watch as Drew spun Madison around and pulled her into his arms. It was about that time that Beckett had landed his right hook. He clenched his fist, realizing with shame how good that would feel about now.
“I can’t live without you,” Drew said, leaning into Madison. “I know I don’t deserve you, but you’re my everything.”
She stared into Drew’s eyes for a long moment before shaking her head. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t you see, Eleanor? I can’t let you go. Be my wife, and I swear I’ll never make you regret it, not for a moment.”
Beckett clenched his jaw.
“I want to say yes. You know I do . . .”
He tipped her chin up. “I love you. I’ll always love you. Say you’ll marry me. Say it, and make me the happiest man on earth.”
Beckett was glad he was in the back where he couldn’t see the tears that were no doubt glassing Madison’s eyes or see her mouth softening at his words.
“I’ve loved you from the beginning. How could I say anything else?” Madison said.
Drew pulled her close and lowere
d his head.
Beckett fought the urge to look away. It’s only make-believe. It’s not real. She doesn’t love Drew.
But maybe she should.
He forced himself to watch the kiss. He had to get it through his thick skull that Madison was not his, would never be his.
Mercifully, the lights dimmed and the curtain swept down. The audience cheered. The man beside him startled awake and began clapping.
Beckett stood with the rest of the audience, his mind on the final scene, on the kiss. He’d bet Drew had enjoyed it, had enjoyed all the rehearsals.
Much as he wanted to hate the man, he had no reason to. He’d heard nothing but good things about him. How could he deny that Drew was better for Madison? She deserved a man who could slide right into the McKinley family circle and never miss a beat. Drew wasn’t dragging a dysfunctional family behind him. Drew didn’t have a blemished reputation in the community or a father who drove drunk and burned the theater down. He wasn’t carrying a cesspool of genetics to pass along to her future children.
The roar of the audience grew louder at the curtain call. Beckett watched as they applauded Drew. He gestured toward Madison, who took a bow to thunderous applause.
A moment later the curtain fell, and Beckett drifted away from the crowd. He wanted nothing more than to go home, but Layla was expecting him at the opening night party.
He turned toward the town hall, following other family members, his gait slow. The streetlamps glowed in the darkness, and a light breeze scented the night air with something sweet. He passed the vet practice and wondered when Madison would return to work. Wondered if the nightmares were better. She’d gotten some things worked out with God, she’d said. He was glad. God would help her through everything that lay ahead.
God could even get Beckett through this. Though at the moment, the heaviness of losing her weighed on him. He told himself it was for the best. Letting her go was the loving thing to do. And if Drew stepped into his shoes, it would be good for Madison. Painful as all get-out for Beckett, but he’d get over her eventually.
Wouldn’t he?
By the time he reached the town hall, the party was already under way. Families clustered under the dimmed lights, music flooded the spacious room, and colorful streamers hung in graceful loops from the high ceilings. The smell of coffee and popcorn permeated the air.
His eyes swept the room for Madison, though he knew it was unlikely she’d arrived yet. The rest of the McKinleys were gathered at a circular table near the back. An area to avoid.
A few minutes later he spotted Layla at the punch bowl on the far side of the room, opposite a makeshift dance floor. He wove through the tables toward her. She’d ditched her doctor costume for her usual jeans and finished it with a filmy white blouse.
He kissed her on the cheek, determined to shake off the melancholy. “Who knew we had such astounding talent in the family. What’s next—Broadway?”
Layla emptied the ladle into her paper cup. “Oh, shut it. I had a whopping four lines.”
“You were good. Totally believable. In fact”—he shifted to the side and lifted the hem of his shirt—“I’ve been having this pain right here—”
She elbowed him, nearly spilling her punch. “I have a pain too; need me to tell you where it is?”
He stifled a grin as he poured himself some punch. “I think I know.”
Beckett handed the ladle to the next in line, then moved over to the brick wall, wanting to find a place in the shadows. A few of the cast had arrived and were starting a line dance to “Country Girl.”
“Oooh, it’s my song. Come on, Beck.”
“Oh no. You’re on your own.”
“Party pooper. Hold my punch.” Layla shoved her cup into his hand and joined the growing crowd.
Beckett stepped back against the wall, smiling as he watched his sister. She laughed with another woman as they botched the steps. She’d grown up to be a beautiful woman, remarkably well adjusted.
The crowd grew on the dance floor until space required the dancers to take baby steps. One of the cast set his hands on Layla’s waist and pulled her against his chest as they moved to the beat.
Beckett straightened as Layla pushed the guy’s hands off and tossed her long hair, completing a turn step. When the man turned the other way, Beckett relaxed against the wall again. Maybe she didn’t need her big brother anymore. Maybe she could take care of herself. She was on the dance floor, living it up, and he was in the shadows, wanting to hide.
Beckett turned his back to the crowd and scanned the photo boards someone had tacked up, the cast and crew during play rehearsals. His greedy eyes soaked up photo after photo. Madison gesturing. Madison smiling. Madison laughing. He remembered that melodic sound and wondered if he’d ever hear it again.
A few minutes later he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and found Layla. Only then did he realize how much he’d been hoping it was Madison.
Layla reclaimed her punch and pointed at one of the pictures. “Oh, that’s hilarious.” A few of the crew had joined her.
Jessie Brooks, who’d designed the sets, came up on his other side. “Long time no see, Beckett.”
He’d gone out with her a few times over the winter. She lived a couple streets over from him and taught French and art at the high school.
He nodded her way. “Jessie. Nice job on the set.”
Her rosy lips curled upward and her green eyes sparkled. “Thanks! It’s been pretty crazy this last week, getting everything ready.” She pointed out some of the photos and launched into a story of how she’d salvaged the sunset background.
She was a nice woman. Patient, pretty, kindhearted. There wasn’t a thing wrong with her.
Except that she wasn’t Madison.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to grab a bite somewhere?” Jessie was saying. “I missed dinner, and popcorn isn’t going to cut it.”
A commotion sounded across the room, and applause began slowly, picking up until it drowned out the music. Beckett turned and faced the incoming party just as Madison and Drew emerged, smiling as the fans clapped and whistled.
Even the crowd seemed to recognize them as a couple. Their hair was the exact same shade of brown with a bit of wave. They were both slender, similar in height, and attractive in their trendy jeans. They’d make beautiful kids.
The thought put a knot in his throat. He swallowed hard, but it didn’t budge. He wished he could move far away, where he wouldn’t have to watch her falling for someone else. But he had his grandpa to look after, not to mention his dad to keep out of trouble.
He took in the sight of her, realizing there was something different about her. And then he figured it out. She didn’t look tired. The dark circles had faded. Even her color looked better.
Having you out of her life has been good for her. See how happy and well rested she looks?
He told himself that was stupid. That the changes were a result of time, of rest, of coming to terms with God. But his heart refused to believe it ended there.
She was beautiful, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. Madison’s eyes caught his across the room. She stopped, her smile wilting.
Yes, she was better off without him. If he’d doubted it before now, he didn’t doubt it any longer.
Her lips curved up a little, just for him, and his heart gave an extra beat.
Drew set his hand on Madison’s shoulder and leaned close to whisper something in her ear.
Beckett frowned. What was he doing? He was supposed to be letting her go. Instead he was gazing at her like a lovesick puppy.
He pulled his eyes from Madison and locked onto the first thing he saw. Jessie.
“So what do you say?” the woman asked. “Are you hungry?”
The thought of food turned his stomach, but the thought of escape—that held appeal.
“Ah, sure. Sounds good.”
“Cappy’s is still open. Let me grab my bag.” She walked a few tables
over.
Beckett got Layla’s attention. “You don’t mind if I take off, do you?”
“I guess not. The party just started though.”
“You’re in good hands.”
“Beck, maybe you should hang around, talk to Madison.”
A short distance away, Jessie shouldered her purse and smiled at Beckett, waiting.
“I don’t think so. You have fun though.” He started for Jessie, but before he took a step, Layla grabbed his arm.
Her eyes swung to Jessie and back to him. Her brows drew together. “What are you doing?”
He gathered his courage, looked her in the eye. “The right thing.”
Madison watched Beckett escort Jessie Brooks from the party, the air leaving her lungs in a rush. She hadn’t realized he’d be here, had frozen in her tracks when she’d seen him.
Then his face had softened. The music had faded and everyone else in the room disappeared. She’d felt a pull so strong it propelled her forward. She’d taken a step in his direction when he’d turned away. Toward cute little Jessie Brooks. Moments later he was leaving with the woman.
If there was any doubt before, after their last conversation, it was all cleared up now. He couldn’t get far enough away from the mess that was her life.
“You okay?” Drew said in her ear.
She swallowed hard and put on a smile. “I’m fine.”
Her family waved from a nearby table.
“Have fun,” she told Drew, knowing she’d never be able to follow her own advice.
She kept the smile plastered to her face as she walked toward her family, dreading the long evening ahead. She’d just pretend her heart wasn’t twisting like a wrung-out washcloth. She could pretend. Hadn’t she just done so onstage in front of all Chapel Springs?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
TODAY WAS THE DAY. BECKETT ROLLED FROM BED AND headed for the shower, staying under the spray for an extra ten minutes, working the plan in his mind.
He’d tossed and turned the night before, despite an early night. He and Jessie had gone to Cappy’s but he hadn’t been into it, into her. He’d tried to hold up his end of the conversation, but she was no fool.
Barefoot Summer Page 24
