Someday

by Karen Kingsbury

  Suddenly he wasn’t alone on the wooden stage. He was in the back row, a baseball cap pulled down over his forehead, a hooded sweatshirt hiding his identity. He was gripping the armrests and staring at the kids onstage—Charlie Brown and Lucy and Schroeder—all singing at the top of their lungs: “Happiness is . . . three kinds of ice cream . . . having a sister . . . coming home again.”

  The show was ending, the parents and families in the audience giving a standing ovation, and there . . . there she was, a blonde vision with an innocence Dayne had never seen before. She was walking onto the stage and the kids were surrounding her, calling out her name. “Katy . . . Katy . . . Katy . . .”

  There was a sound at the door, someone opening it.

  “Katy?” Dayne’s throat swelled with emotion, and his tears made it hard to see. He stood and waited, and it occurred to him that the rest of his life hinged not on his career or the way his newest movie was received or what the tabloids said about him.

  But on what happened in the next few moments.

  The surprises hit Katy one after another, like a series of tidal waves in which every one took her higher and higher to a place of joy she’d forgotten could exist. She crept through town, certain that the only reason Dayne had called her to the place where the theater once stood was so he could console her, tell her how sorry he was that the building was gone.

  Not until she pulled up out front and stared at the theater for half a minute did she actually believe her own eyes. The building was intact, standing just as it had always stood, year after year after year in the heart of Bloomington. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and she brought her hand to her mouth, shocked at what she was seeing.

  What had happened? And what role had Dayne played in keeping the old place up another few days? This was where he’d proposed to her, so maybe he wanted one more chance alone with her, a chance to sit together and remember every wonderful moment that had happened here.

  She climbed out of her car, and that’s when she saw the glass-covered marquee where CKT would proudly promote whatever show was in progress. Only now . . .

  Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. She walked closer and shaded her eyes. The glare from the new-fallen snow made it hard to read until she was a few feet away, and then . . . she was right. She began to shake, more from the shock and joy exploding in her heart than from the cold morning.

  The sign read, “CKT Presents Charlie Brown.” Exactly what it had read years ago when CKT performed its first-ever musical here in this very building. The way it read when Dayne Matthews happened to be driving out of town and stopped in for the final ten minutes of the final show in the run.

  She was breathing faster now, dizzy from the possibilities that suddenly lay before her. Her steps were slow and measured, her boots sinking into nearly a foot of snow with each stride. But finally she reached the back door and tried the handle. When the door opened, she trudged inside and shook the snow from her feet.

  Only then did she look up and see Dayne watching her from a folding chair at the center of the stage. He was tan, and the stress of the last few months showed around his eyes. But the look on his face was the one she had longed for with every passing day.

  He stood, his eyes never leaving hers. “Katy . . .”

  She took a few steps toward him and then stopped and looked around. The rows of seats, the balcony sections on both sides of the theater—all of it was exactly as it had been the last time she saw it. “How did . . . ?” She turned to him again, and this time she saw tears on his cheeks.

  “Dayne . . . how can you really be here?” She practically floated the rest of the way to the stage and up the stairs. And then they came together in an embrace that dissolved the miles and months between them in so many seconds.

  Dayne was breathing hard, clearly fighting his emotions. “Don’t ever leave me.” He clung to her, holding her close and nuzzling his face against hers. “I can’t live without you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her tears came harder now, flooding her eyes and making her nose stuffy. “How could I have doubted you?”

  Dayne drew back slowly, his expression lined with disbelief. “What?”

  “I know. I was going to call you today when I got home.” A cry that was part laugh crossed her lips. “Ashley told me.” Katy lowered her chin and allowed the remorse in her heart to show on her face. “But that wasn’t her job.” She searched for the right words. “If the tables were turned, I would’ve flown to Mexico to convince you I’d done nothing wrong. But I denied you that chance.”

  Dayne’s eyes were still damp, but his voice was calmer and laden with a deep sadness. “I had hoped you might believe me.”

  Katy wanted to defend herself, tell him that the picture had tricked the whole world, so why not her? How could she have known Luke might stop by and visit Dayne in Cabo or that Luke would have the gall to make out with Randi Wells on the beach? But every possible excuse felt lame against the one piece of evidence she hadn’t considered.

  Dayne’s word.

  She moved close against him again and pressed her head to his chest. “I was wrong.” Her voice was muffled against his pullover. “I was a world away and believing the tabloids, and I was wrong.” She looked at him. “When Ashley told me the truth about Luke, I would’ve chartered a plane to see you, but we had to wrap up the film. I figured I’d call you when I got home and tell you how sorry I was.”

  “You were ready to throw it all away.” It wasn’t a question, and the hurt in his voice would stay with her forever. “After all we’ve been through? Would I have been that easy to walk away from?”

  “No.” Katy shook her head, and more tears rushed into her eyes. She slid her arms around his waist and grabbed fistfuls of his sweater. “Even if it was true, I couldn’t leave you. God made that clear . . . in the last few days. Before I talked to Ashley.”

  With that bit of knowledge, she felt him relax against her. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re here. I love you, Katy.” Dayne brought his lips to hers slowly, the way he’d kissed her that first time up in the bleachers of Indiana University’s football stadium. This wasn’t a moment for passion but for finding their way back.

  Katy stared at him, her heart slamming hard inside her. “So, what’s all this?” She glanced around again. “Why are we here?”

  A smile started in Dayne’s eyes and quickly filled his face. He took a step back, and as quickly as it had come, his smile faded. “I had to be here.” He looked straight into her heart. He turned to the back row of seats and pointed to a spot in the middle. “That’s where I was, remember? The first time I saw you.”

  Her chin quivered as she looked. She nodded because she couldn’t speak.

  “And here.” He tapped his foot a few times on the wooden stage. “Here is where I found you lying beneath a plastic Christmas tree.”

  Katy sniffed. “The day you asked me to marry you.”

  He came closer to her again, his fingers cupping her face with the most gentle touch she’d ever known. “The day you said yes.” He kissed her again, longer this time, slower.

  When she looked at him again, her quiet giggles warmed the air between them. “That’s why we’re here?” She gave him a wary look. “The place was supposed to be leveled the other day. That’s what Jenny told me.”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” Dayne backed up, and as he did he reached into his right pocket. Katy heard the sound of keys before he pulled them out and held them up for her to see. “It’s yours, Katy. The theater is yours.” His eyes shone with anticipation. He handed the keys to her. “Merry Christmas.”

  She shook her head, not believing him. Not believing she was even standing here when a week ago she’d been half a world away, ready to give up on him. A cry came from her and she searched his face, trying to make sense of what he’d said. “Dayne?” Her voice was little more than a shocked whisper. She held out her hand, and he pressed the keys into her palm. “Are . . . are yo
u serious?”

  “Yes. You can start CKT up again as soon as you want.”

  “Tomorrow?” Katy laughed and brought her hands to her face. It was more than she could imagine, almost too much to believe. The theater was hers? They could be presenting their next show as soon as spring? She lowered her hands and worked them around his waist. “I must be dreaming. I mean, can it really be happening?”

  “It’s real, love.” The smile was back in his eyes. “I should’ve done it a long time ago. Maybe we would’ve spent the last few months together instead of . . .” He brushed his knuckles against her cheeks, her brow. “Come sit with me. There’s more.”

  Good thing he wanted to sit. Katy’s knees couldn’t hold her up another minute, not with the way life was changing before her eyes, growing more wonderful with every heartbeat. They took seats in the front row.

  Dayne turned to her. “I bought the buildings on either side. They’re yours too.”

  Her mind raced frantically, pulling up images of the buildings that anchored the theater. “I can’t believe this.” If he’d purchased those too, then he wasn’t giving her the theater as an impulsive Christmas gift. He’d thought this through. But what did that mean about their future? He still had movies left on his contract and . . . and . . .

  “I love you, Katy. I hope you never doubted that.”

  Her thoughts shifted, and guilt rained down on her. How could she have doubted anything about him? What twisted lie had seeped into her soul that she would believe that photograph—even if the picture looked exactly like Dayne? She closed her eyes for a few seconds. God, what did I ever do to deserve the love of a man like Dayne Matthews?

  Remember, daughter . . . I know the plans I have for you . . . to give you hope and a future.

  The tears came again. Thank You. . . . Thank You, Lord.

  Katy hugged herself. “I love you too. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

  Only then did his entire story pour out. He explained how he’d been in Mexico, deeply affected by the scrapbook his father had made him. “I realized that sometimes a gift says more than words ever could.” When he smiled at her, he looked like a schoolboy who was young and in love, with a world of possibilities spread before him. “The right gift, anyway.”

  Dayne shared his vision of a diner on one side of the theater and a coffee shop on the other. But it wasn’t until he’d pointed out the obvious things they should upgrade in and around the theater that the real crux of his plan came to light.

  “I talked to my agent.” He was more serious than he’d been since she walked through the door. “I told him I need a few years off. After that I’ll do one movie a year, until I’ve finished the two films left on my contract.” Anger flickered in his eyes. “I told him he could forget casting me in a love story. I’m finished with that.”

  Katy tried to remember how to breathe. Dayne hadn’t missed a single detail. “Me too. I’ve filmed my last movie.” She was still trying to take it all in, grasp the reality of what tomorrow held. She remembered one important question. “How did you . . . Why aren’t you in LA?”

  “We’ll finish up after the holidays.” He took her hands in his. “I want you to come with me. We can stay indoors whenever I’m home if you want, but I don’t want to be alone. We’re a team, okay?” He made a silly face. “Then we come back here and I apply for the job I’ve always wanted.”

  She picked up on his humor, and her laughter filled the theater. “Set builder?”

  “Exactly.” He gave her a look of mock concern. “Of course, I’m up against some tough competition.”

  “Yeah—” Katy leaned in and kissed him—“but you’re sleeping with the boss.”

  Some of the silliness left his eyes. “I will be, anyway. After tonight.”

  She savored the sensation of his hands in hers and willed herself to remember this moment. The feel of the wooden seat beneath her, the musty smell of the old theater, the look in his eyes. She wanted to remember it not just next week and the following months and years, but when she was old and gray. Dayne had given her the greatest gift of all—a gift even better than the theater and the chance at a normal life. He’d given her his forgiveness.

  With that, the future was bound to be nothing but bright sunshine and brilliant sunsets.

  Dayne didn’t want to move, didn’t want anything to interrupt this precious time with Katy. His plan had worked, and now he rejoiced with her that yesterday was gone and a sea of tomorrows spread out before them. He and Katy, together in Bloomington, making plans for the CKT kids and whatever musical they might do next.

  That was something else wonderful yet to come—the announcement that Dayne had bought the theater and together they would reinstate Christian Kids Theater. Already Dayne had talked to a reporter from the Bloomington Press. The man needed more information from the developer and the county office. He figured the story might run sometime next week.

  Dayne looked around the theater, and with an increasing sense of excitement he detailed some of the projects they could have done immediately. They would hire someone to replace the roof and restore the brick that made up the exterior of the building. The old marquee worked, but it needed a new case and improved lighting. “There’re the windows of course—”

  Suddenly Katy sat a little straighter and held up one hand. “Dayne, wait—”

  “We’ll restore every one of the windows to their original condition, and—”

  “Hold on. . . .” She was speaking, but he didn’t really hear her. “I have something to—”

  “A new furnace, maybe a whole new HVAC system depending on the . . .” A nervous chuckle sounded in his throat. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “You were saying?”

  Tenderness softened her expression, and a dreamy look sparkled in her eyes. “I was saying . . . I forgot something.” Her purse was on the floor beside her; she reached inside and pulled out a small, flat bag. “I picked this up at the airport.”

  Dayne studied her. He had a sense that something big was happening. Otherwise why would she be in such a hurry to give him an airport souvenir? He took the bag, reached inside, and eased the gift out. It was a tiny white T-shirt, and across the front in colorful letters it read, I’m a Bloomington Baby. Dayne smiled at it and then at Katy. The gift was adorable and so appropriate, especially since they had both reached the decision at the same time—that Bloomington, not Hollywood, was where they wanted to be.

  “I like it.” He held it up in Katy’s direction. “We should frame it and hang it in the kitchen.”

  Katy giggled. “We can’t frame it. What good would it be behind glass?”

  What good would it be? He stared at the shirt again. And then like the gradual light from an early morning sunrise, a thought began to dawn on him. He looked slowly back at Katy. “You mean . . . we have a reason to use it?”

  Her cheeks were more flushed than before. She slid closer to him, and the truth was in her eyes. “Our baby does.” She blinked back tears and seemed to struggle to find her voice again. “That’s who the shirt’s for.”

  Dayne breathed in sharply and rushed to his feet. He looked at her, not sure what to do next. “Our baby? You’re . . . you’re . . .”

  “I am.” She stood and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I found out yesterday when the shoot ended. I bought a test at the drugstore.”

  He breathed in and willed himself to exhale. This was no time to hyperventilate. “Katy, you mean it? You’re pregnant?”

  She laughed. “Ten weeks, if my calculations are right.”

  Dayne let his head fall back and shouted, “I’m a dad! I’m going to be a father!” For a moment he remembered that he should already have one child by now. His former girlfriend had gotten an abortion without ever talking to him about it. But that sad story belonged to the past. He raised both fists in the air and jogged from one end of the theater to the other and back again. “I can’t believe this. It�
�s the best news ever.”

  “I know. I couldn’t wait to tell you, but then—” she motioned to the walls surrounding them—“you gave me the theater.” She put her arms around his neck. “I didn’t remember about the little T-shirt until now.”

  “All this time . . .” The truth of the situation was beyond his full comprehension. They had been thousands of miles apart in separate foreign countries, believing their marriage had fallen apart when . . . “All along God’s been knitting together our firstborn child.”

  Katy slipped her arms higher around his neck and pressed the side of her face against his. “Can’t you just see it?”

  “I can see it a lot better now.” He was still breathing hard, still trying to grasp the fact that in less than seven months he would be a father. This was everything he had ever hoped for, everything he and Bob had prayed about that night at Bob’s kitchen table in Mexico City.

  Slowly, tenderly, Katy swayed in his arms, and he sensed that they were both holding tight to this moment. “Can’t you see her walking between us on the path around Lake Monroe?”

  He pulled back just enough to catch her smile. “Her?”

  “Or him.” Katy shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She was right, of course. The only thing that mattered was that God had blessed them with a child. Dayne eased Katy’s head against his chest.

  It was ironic, really. Ever since his first Hollywood break, people had said Dayne Matthews had it all. They cited the usual list—looks and athleticism, fame and more money than he knew what to do with. Cars and women and invitations to the right parties. But the fact was, all that had been meaningless and empty.

  Now he would have a future with Katy here in Bloomington, where in time people would come to forget his former life. He would be known for his development of the theater project and for helping Katy with CKT, for being the best husband he could be and for taking his family to church each Sunday. And one day, not too far from now, people would see him in the role he’d always wanted—the role of being Daddy to his child.