by Lisa Wingate
“I know a little recording company in Austin that could use somebody with production experience and bigtime connections in the LA scene.”
I looked up, momentarily shocked, then suddenly fluttery and uncertain. Was he asking me to come back?
Adjusting his hat, he scratched his ear, seeming to have embarrassed himself with the sudden suggestion. “Just a thought.”
It’s now or never, Mandalay, I told myself. You either get on the boat or stand on the shore and watch life sail on by. “I might take you up on that.”
He tipped his head to one side, studied me. His grin broadened finally, a soft white line in the darkness. “You know where to find me.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
Slipping a hand into his pocket, he retrieved a business card. “Now you know where to find me.”
Our fingers touched and a tingle of excitement, a blossoming sense of something new, something profound slipped over me as I took the card and tucked it away. “I guess I do.” I wanted to tell him what I was really thinking, to admit to the powerful connection I felt with him. He would probably think I was crazy, some desperate thirty-something woman playing relationship bingo.
Pushing off the rail, he stepped closer, and I felt my body quicken in response. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and kiss him, whether it made me look overeager or not. Overhead, the trees stirred and a lover’s moon hung low, as if in anticipation.
Carter stroked a finger alongside his lip, came closer yet, so that only a step separated us. “Of course, I have to be out in LA next week to negotiate a cut for a movie soundtrack. I could look you up.”
“You could,” I agreed, and then finally I found the courage to step aboard the boat and cast off from shore, let the current take me where it would. “You’d better.”
He laughed deep in his throat. “In that case, plan on dinner. You pick the place.”
Suddenly, I was looking forward to going home. I wanted to show Carter everything, to share with him all the spots I loved best, to stand on the pier together and watch the sun go down as ships combed the horizon. “Are we going to pay for the meal or wait until the place closes and break in?”
“Your choice.” The words were intimate, an invitation drawing me to him. “We could get arrested again.”
“Tempting …” I knew I would do anything to be with him—even get arrested by Buddy Ray again. “But how about a walk on the beach instead?”
“That’s good, too.” He reached for me, and I slipped into his arms, felt a sense of hope, and promise, and perfect symmetry like nothing I’d experienced before—as if this moment, the two of us, had been predestined long before I ever knew it. Suddenly, the work to be done on Amber’s segment, the questions about my job, the battle with Ursula, the uncertainties of bills and medical insurance felt far away, insignificant.
His lips met mine and all seemed right with the world.
Somewhere deep within me, beyond the passion, beyond the beauty of the night, that little spark of Daily magic ignited in me again, began burning in a place that had gone dark and untended, that had yearned to be bright and warm. I felt it now, something old, something new, something complete. Perhaps it had been there in me all along—the belief that there is a plan and a purpose, that God whispers into every life some things that are beyond the scope of the mind and can only be felt with the heart and the spirit.
Those dreams, the ones that are dreamed for us, not by us, are the truest of all.
Chapter 28
Imagene Doll
Amber’s shindig continued on as the moon rose high overhead. During dinner, the band moved their equipment outside to one of the tents. Brother Harve and O.C. made us a bonfire out of some leftover construction materials, and everybody went to dancing. Amber took the floor with that cute little Butch, and she even danced with Buddy Ray some, for old time’s sake. He looked pretty proud of himself, out there cutting a rug with Daily’s first certified superstar. O.C. danced every number with a little girl he’d invited home from college. Watching O.C. and his sweetheart, I got a feeling about those two.
Donetta had more fun than I’d ever seen. She couldn’t get her stickin-the-mud husband out of his chair, so she decided to teach Andy, Amos, and Avery how to dance. They took to it pretty good, and finally even old Verl agreed to a spin. With Verl in Jack’s golf clothes and Donetta in her favorite pink shirt and the pants with the lime green palm trees, they made a colorful pair.
There must have been some bona fide magic in the night air, because Doyle even got up his courage to ask Lucy to dance. It took him a while to spit out the question, but when he did, she left the food service line like a rocket and I took her spot. Doyle and Lucy shined up the floor in the swing dance. Who knew old rawboned Doyle could move like that?
Things were just getting into full blush when Amanda-Lee and Carter finally found their way outside of the church with the rest of us. I guessed she’d changed her mind about being in such a hurry to head for the airport, because she and Carter got some food and sat down to watch the band. I was glad she stayed to see our celebration, since it all happened because she came to Daily. I told her so as she moved through the food line, and she smiled and said she couldn’t have done it without me. It made me feel real special.
As Amanda-Lee and Carter settled in at a table just off the dance floor, I had the satisfaction of a job well done. All the Hollywood business had come out fine, and it seemed that I hadn’t lost my touch for matchmaking after all. Amanda-Lee and Carter looked starry-eyed and happy, like they were on top of the world. After they finished eating, he asked her to dance, which was pretty brave of him, considering that Miss Lulu and the choir ladies had just got ahold of Verl and the Anderson boys and the dance floor was getting rowdy. Carter didn’t seem worried. He just grinned at Amanda-Lee’s protests, then dragged her from her chair and took her off to a patch of moon shadow under an oak tree. They danced there like they didn’t know anybody else was around.
The sight of them made me smile as I wandered off and sat down on Pastor Harve’s old swing, where the glow from the church window fell soft and golden on the grass. I tipped my head back, and high above, the man in the moon spread out his cape of stars just for me. The band toned it down for a slow song, and the clear, sweet notes of “Sentimental Journey” floated on the night air. That was our song, Jack’s and mine.
I let myself slip into a memory of the night I first danced with Jack. In my mind, I could see him, tall and straight in his uniform. He smiled and bowed low, offered his arm. I put my hand in his and he swept me to my feet, and we danced on an old wood pier nearby the midway of the winter carnival. Below, it was high tide, and the waves caught the stars in pieces, then turned them loose again as they kissed the shore.
An ordinary person doesn’t see too many glorious moments like that in a lifetime. I’d sure thought my glory days, and Daily’s, were over, but maybe I’d counted us both out too soon. Just when you think a place doesn’t have any life anymore, it yawns and stretches, catches a fresh breath, and looks out with new eyes. Then you realize that the plain kind of places, the ones like Daily, where folks are friendly and a good story will buy you a fresh cup of coffee any day of the week, don’t ever really die. They only doze off like sage old hounds sleeping away the hot afternoon, awaiting the cool of evening to get up and throw back their heads, lope through the hills, and bay at the moon.
As I opened my eyes and looked at my friends and neighbors dancing on the lawn, at Amber laughing with her family and Amanda-Lee in the arms of her beau beneath the shadows of the live oak trees, I felt full inside. Of all the Reunion Days past and yet to come, this one, when a bunch of country folks outsmarted Hollywood, helped make a sure-enough superstar, did a little matchmaking, and threw a whale of a party to boot, would be remembered in Daily history.
Surely this was a gathering folks would relive for years to come, the sort of moment when the night falls quiet, and soft, and deep, when the
air is filled with the warmth of people who love one another. Overhead, the angels swoop down low to be near. God breathes a sigh across the heavens, the blessings shower down like falling stars, and the cup overflows with light.
About the Author
Lisa Wingate is a popular inspirational speaker, magazine columnist, and national bestselling author of several books, including Tending Roses, Good Hope Road, The Language of Sycamores, Drenched in Light, and A Thousand Voices. Her work was recently honored by Americans for More Civility for promoting greater kindness and civility in American life. Lisa and her family live in central Texas.
Visit Lisa at her website, www.lisawingate.com
Questions for Conversation
1. Talk of the Town is a “fish out of water” tale. Have you ever been forced into a situation where both people and place seem alien to you? Do you ever end up feeling comfortable, and what changed to make that possible?
2. Why do you think that we, as a nation, are so obsessed with Hollywood? Is small town life more “real” or “authentic” than Hollywood? Have you gotten caught up in the reality TV craze?
3. Have you ever lived in a small town, and if so, what was it like? If not, does the idea of living in a small town like fictional Daily, Texas, appeal to you?
4. Have you experienced members of a community pulling together in an effort to help one of their own?
5. In what ways is Mandalay changed by her weekend in Daily, Texas? How did characters Imagene, Amber, and Carter each affect her differently?
6. In what ways is Imagene changed by her friendship with Mandalay? Have you ever met a new person and felt an instant connection?
7. Imagene takes some risks at the end of the novel. If money and time weren’t an obstacle, what risky thing would you attempt?
8. Imagene believes two people can be meant for each other. Do you believe in love at first sight? Have you ever seen it happen?
9. Do you think Amber will end up being compromised and changed by Hollywood?
10. Amber asserts that Justin Shay might feel better about life if he used his vast resources to do something good. Do you believe this? Have you ever found a sense of purpose through an act of service?
11. Talk of the Town also celebrates friendship. What makes a friendship that lasts over time? Talk about your truest friend and the ways in which that person has supported you.
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