But no place was as lovely to me as the Valiant Theater.
James and Millie had purchased the 1930s remnant, lovingly restoring it ’til it was a reborn architectural masterpiece. The crown jewel of In Between, the Valiant was the place where I had first given my heart away, finding my soul and purpose on the wooden planks of the stage. The theater had a history, every inch of it holding a story. My own tale was within these walls.
As I opened the doors, the familiar smell greeted me. Popcorn, wood polish, and a magical scent that slipped from the dressing rooms, swirled around the spotlights, and flew in the air with all the boldness that accompanied hopes, dreams, and what-ifs.
It was easy to believe anything was possible here.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for these old, tired eyes.”
Sam Dayberry, caretaker of the Valiant, and my grandmother’s sainted husband, intercepted me in the lobby, arms outstretched, smile wide.
“Hi, Sam.” I hugged him tight, grinning at his ever-present ball cap and overalls. Happy that some things, at least, would never change.
He held me at arm’s length and gave my face a grandfatherly inspection. “I wanted to come with the others to Houston, but some stuff came up and someone had to stay here. Prayed like crazy for you.”
“I know you did.”
“That’s quite a bruise you got going there.”
“Just a little bump on the head.” I glanced at a production poster hanging on the wall behind him. “Sound of Music, huh? Pretty ambitious. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be.” He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Our Captain Von Trapp towers at five-foot-three, and Maria sings like a howling coyote.”
“Save me a front row seat.”
He chuckled, the lines around his eyes a gathering of creases and folds. “Your grandma sure is glad to have her little buddy back. How long are you staying?”
“Oh, probably indefinitely.”
Sam blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going back to London.”
“Well, of course you are. You’re the pride of this family. The pride of this town.”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of the very thought. “This town needs to raise the bar a bit. It was time to come back home. The theater life was nice for a while, but I can’t live like that forever.”
“What are you going to do?”
Wasn’t that just the question of the moment. “Not sure. Kind of limited with a drama degree. I was hoping the manager job was still an option here.” In fact, I was counting on it.
“Delores still says she’s retiring in six months,” Sam said. “You know your parents would give you that job in a heartbeat. Well, that is if the theater’s—” Sam startled at the beeping of his phone. “Drat. Five minutes late for lunch, and that woman’s sending me snippy texts.” He slipped the phone back in his overall pocket. “I better get home. I promised Maxine I’d take her to a nice lunch.”
“The Burger Barn?”
He nodded. “Your grandma wants a triple scoop.” His worn, strong hands cupped my shoulders in gentle pats. “No matter what you decide, we’re all proud of you, dear.”
With a final hug for Sam, I flung open the doors and stepped into the theater. Following the carpeted runner, I walked the slight decline, my breath easing the closer I got to that stage.
And by the time I laid down on the old, restored wood floor, staring up at the lights, I almost felt like my old self. Lights hummed above me, the cool of the stage seeped into my palms, and I closed my eyes and just slowly inhaled.
“Hello, Parker.”
My eyes popped open as Charlie Benson stood at the foot of the stage.
“I thought I might find you here.” His rascal grin still devastated, sending a sonar ping straight to my lost heart. He wore a white button down, pressed khakis, and hair that was almost in need of a trim. Almost.
“Come on up,” I said.
And he did. In seconds, he settled in beside me, his shoulder pressed to mine. I tried to focus on the dreamy scent of my theater and not Charlie’s cologne that promised manly things I’d absolutely sworn off.
We stayed that way for a while, just lying on the stage floor, our breaths eventually synchronizing, our thoughts going in their own directions.
“What are you doing here?” My hushed voice broke the lengthy silence.
“I came to see you.” He turned his face toward mine, and our lips were so close, if I just leaned in the slightest—
“I’m not going to fall for you again, Charlie.” I didn’t know if I said this for him—or for me.
His smile lit those pretty gray eyes. “I used to find you here just like this when we were in high school. I always knew it meant you had something big to work out.” He ran his finger down my temple and across my cheek. “You want to talk about it?”
I sighed, the sound coming from the pit of my stomach and echoing in the space. “I thought I had it all figured out. I was one of the lucky ones. I knew who I was, and I certainly knew who I wanted to be. And everything just magically fell into place. It was just this big confirmation that I was on the right track.”
“Who says you were wrong?”
“I can’t go back to London. I don’t think I can ever get on the stage again.”
“I’ve seen you in action. You were born for this.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it was just a season.”
“I don’t believe that. You know what I do believe in?” His pinkie latched onto mine. “You.”
Lightning zinged from the top of my head straight to my toes.
Dear Lord, I was just like my bio-mother. She fell in love weekly with a different man. I would not be her. I was not going to be that stupid.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” I said. If mistakes were raindrops, I’d flood this whole town.
“Was declaring your never-ending love for me at twenty-thousand feet one of them?”
“I didn’t mean it.”
He smiled. “No?”
“I thought we were about to die.”
“So the deal is null and void in the event of our unfortunate survival?”
“I was overtaken by adrenaline.”
“Not crashing can really mess things up.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
His eyes darkened and he stilled. “I find myself very serious when it comes to you, Parker.”
I ran my hand over my face, regretting my bandage, my lack of makeup. “My life’s a mess, Charlie. You do not want to get mixed up in that.”
“None of us have uncomplicated lives. Maybe I want to be mixed up in yours.”
“No.”
He squeezed my hand. “How messy are we talking?”
“More than my usual fare. I’ve stepped it up in my adult years.”
“Katie?” Charlie turned on his side, leaning over me. “You said you loved me.”
So I had. But I could not have meant it. I couldn’t have. “I meant that in a universal way. Not romantic at all.” My gosh, his eyes were hypnotic.
Charlie thought about this. “So if the guy in the next aisle had been sitting by you—the four-hundred pound man with excessive body hair—”
“The really sweaty one?”
“If he would’ve been sitting next to you, then you would’ve declared your undying love to him?”
“Everyone needs a solid send-off to glory.”
Charlie smiled. “You’re lying.”
“A side-hug at the very least.”
Charlie just watched me for a moment. A handful of painfully long seconds. “We need to discuss this,” he said at last.
I sat up, needing some distance between me and the invisible lasso Charlie seemed to be whirling in my general direction. “You and I are long over. You’ve moved on. I’ve moved on.”
He rose to his feet, held out his hand, then pulled me up. My body collided with his. “What I recall moving,” he said, “was your lips on mine.”
His head dipped, his gaze hot on mine. “I don’t want to.”
“Charlie.”
His thumb traced across my cheek. “Stop talking.”
“I’m a mess.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Be my mess.”
And I was lost.
Later I would blame my concussion. The mystical energy of the theater. The weird cheesy substance Millie fed me for lunch.
But now?
Now I just leaned into Charlie Benson, wrapped my arms around his back, and pretended like I wasn’t making another giant mistake.
Chapter Six
“I have to stop kissing Charlie Benson.”
Maxine did a whiplash double-take in the passenger side of my Corolla, flung off her Hollywood sunglasses, then pointed her red-nailed finger right at me. “I knew it! I knew you’d never gotten that boy out of your system.” She fanned herself with both hands. “Who could blame you? You have quite the history, and he is a dish.”
“I’m through with men.”
After a sleepless night, tossing and turning with thoughts of Charlie Benson, London, and Ian the Loser Ex, I woke up this morning, determined to get at least a temporary job until I figured out my career plan. Maxine’s friend Loretta owned Micky’s Diner, and they were looking for a waitress. I had zero experience with waiting tables, but in last year’s summer touring production, I had been a serial-killing drag queen, and I’d had no experience with that line of work either. Minus a few sprained ankles and one glitter eye shadow incident, that had turned out okay. I’d just act like a waitress.
“When have you been kissing Charlie?”
On a plane. On a stage. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to happen again. I have a life to figure out.”
“Making out is much more fun.”
“Guys are stupid.”
“But necessary.” She slid her big, black sunglasses back on her face. “How did this Ian break your heart?”
I turned the car left onto Maple Street. “He just wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“That happened to me once. Harvey Dillerbink.” She flipped down the visor and used the mirror to apply glossy pink lipstick. “Said it wasn’t a toupee, but these fingers know the difference between real hair and a synthetic mop.”
“Our stories are so similar, it’s eerie.”
She blotted her lips on a tissue. “I hear that sass. You wait ’til you’re fifty like me. Men come up with all new ways to be Satan’s ambassadors of deceit.”
The gravel crunched beneath the tires of the car as I pulled into the parking lot of Micky’s Diner. It was an aqua blue stucco with a flashing neon sign, promising the best cup of coffee in town. It sat three driveways down from the Valiant, and I had spent many a morning in the vinyl-covered booths eating hotcakes and bacon with James. Initially it had been forced together-time between a foster dad and his rebellious young charge. But James never gave up on me, feeding me pancakes and conversation until one Saturday I put my fork down and looked across the table at the man who was no longer my guardian, but my father.
A bell clanged as we walked inside, and we weaved through the tables of hungry In Between locals to find an empty table. I peeled open a menu that was sticky with years of syrup drips, and let the din of cafe chatter lull me away from my relentless thoughts.
“Coffee?” Our waitress set down two water glasses and nodded at a neighboring couple in need of refills. Her name was Kourtney with a K, and she had graduated the year after me at In Between High School. Last I’d heard, she already had two babies. How different our lives were. Did our choices lock us into paths we couldn’t get out of?
“I’ll have hot tea, please.” I said.
Maxine closed her menu. “Yes, bring the Queen here a cup of tea and me a black coffee and creamer. None of that low fat stuff, sweetie.”
“Coming right up.”
“Good morning to you, Maxine.” Loretta Parsons, with hair so flat black it could only come from a drugstore bottle and jeans that declared she did not give two hoots about fashion, swaggered her way to our table. The owner of Micky’s always carried a coffee pot and the latest in In Between gossip. “This your granddaughter?”
“Hello, Loretta. This is my Katie.”
My Katie. For a girl who had been discarded by her mom at fifteen and in the system for over a year, these moments of unfiltered love and belonging were still like Christmas and birthdays all rolled into one powerful gift of joy. These words would be added to the collection tattooed on the walls of my heart.
“You’ve grown up since I last saw you. My sister taught you in school. Mary Hall.”
“My drama teacher.” I had loved that woman. Crazy enough to have her own reality show, but she had taught me how to dig deep and bring all I had to a role. “Tell her I said hello.”
“Your grandma says you want a job.”
“I do.”
“You got a college degree?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re overqualified.”
My new credit card balance didn’t care about details such as this, and I needed something to keep me busy until the Valiant could be all mine. “I’m a good worker. Great with people.” Except for the kind you dated.
Loretta pulled the pen from the perch above her ear and twirled it in fingers that had served the breakfast crowd faithfully for forty years. “Can you cook?”
I thought of the Ramen and canned soup I had lived on since leaving home. “Not exactly.”
“Ever been a waitress?”
“No.”
“Can you balance three plates of chicken fried steak on one arm while refilling sweet teas with the other?”
“Doubtful.”
A crash sounded behind us, and all heads in the room turned as Kourtney with a K stared at the ruined coffee pot now lying in glass shards on the floor.
Loretta turned her gaze back to me. “You’ll fit right in.”
“When do you want me to start?”
“This time next week. With all these meetings I got, I won’t have time to train you ’til then. Work begins at five.”
“In the morning?”
“Them eggs don’t scramble themselves.”
“Five a.m. will be just fine.”
“Kourtney, get over here and get these ladies’ order,” Loretta barked before walking away.
“I still think you should wait to get a job,” Maxine said. “Take some time and just rest. You’re whining about Frances rushing into things, and you’re doing the exact same thing.”
“I’m broke.”
“Not broke enough to take me up on the job I offered you.”
“Daily foot rubs and pedis is not an acceptable job offer.” A familiar flash of blue caught my eye, the blur resembling my dad. “Was that James?”
“Huh?” Maxine held out her coffee cup as Kourtney finally came to fill it. “No, he’s not here. Probably his doppelganger. We all have one.” She took the creamer from the waitress. “Mine goes by the name of Gisele Bündchen.”
“I swear that was him. I’d know that church polo shirt anywhere.” I thanked Kourtney for my tea. “I’m going to go say hi.”
“No!” Maxine said a little too strongly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m starving, and we need to order. Old ladies can’t go too long without food. Messes with our blood sugar. I don’t want to get the diabeedus.”
“For dinner last night you had Reese’s Pieces.” I removed the napkin from my lap and returned it to the table. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait—he’s in a meeting.”
Something wasn’t right. “For what?”
“Some pastor thing. Boring stuff. Involves lots of praying, Bible reading, sharing the latest joke they’ve stolen from the internet, that sort of thing.” Maxine gave her order to the harried waitress, and judging by the five course breakfast she requested, I didn’t
think she was too concerned with her glucose levels.
The table James sat at was not filled with local pastors, but with various members of the community. There was Evan, one of the night cops who’d given me a ride home my junior year when my car had broken down at midnight on the one lane bridge. Randall Foster, owner of the hardware store, sat to his right. Across from James was Dana Lou Tanner, who had the best bakery this side of Dixie, and whose husband kept the liquor store across the county line in business. Six or seven more filled the large table, each leaning in, intent on the conversation. Dana spoke to the group, her hands animated, a ringed finger jabbing the air.
“Looks pretty heated over there,” I said.
“It’s inter-denominational.” Maxine darted her eyes to the gathering, then gave me a reassuring smile. “When you put the Baptists and Methodists together, it’s like Southside L.A. The Bloods and the Crips. The Sharks and the Jets. Avon ladies and Mary Kay.”
“You’re hiding something, Mad Maxine.”
“Moi?”
“I’m going to go talk to James.”
“No, Katie! Sit!” Maxine’s manicured fingers latched onto my wrist. Then her eyes looked past me, and her smile broadened. “Well, hello, Charlie.”
I turned around, and like a predictable soap opera, there stood Charlie. Any woman with estrogen left in her body would appreciate the sight. The handsome man stood over six-feet tall, the contours of hard muscles visible beneath his dark denim shirt. His khaki shorts stopped at his knees, revealing tanned legs that had carried him through years of high school and college football. But the heart-clincher, the part that had a table of white-headed ladies audibly sighing beside us, was the way he held his little sister’s hand. The way she stared adoringly at her handsome big brother like he was her Prince Charming.
Maybe I did need something stronger than tea.
“Charlie!” Maxine glowed like a spotlight. “And Miss Sadie, don’t you look cute as a puppy nose. Do join us.”
“What do you think, Sadie?” Charlie twirled his sister beneath his arm, sending the white haired hens a twittering. “Want to sit with Mrs. Dayberry and Katie?”
“Okay.”
Charlie’s eyes never left mine as he helped his sister into her seat, then lowered himself into the chair beside me. His warm arm settled against mine, clearly crossing my table boundary line.
Can’t Let You Go Page 4
