Sunrise

by Karen Kingsbury

Shawn picked up a book titled The Encyclopedia of Animal Facts. “We could read this, but the brothers always say no.”

  “Is that right?” Dayne loved how they called themselves “the brothers.” Katy had explained that it was something they’d started the week the boys came home from Haiti. The name had stuck, and now they considered themselves “the brothers.”

  Dayne sat next to Shawn and looked at the book. “What are your favorite animals?”

  Shawn’s eyes lit up. “All of them. But the Bengal tiger and the cheetah and the elephant are my favorites. Did you know that a cheetah can run seventy miles an hour, and one time they clocked a cheetah running eighty yards in 2.25 seconds?”

  Dayne raised his brow. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, only they can’t run their top speeds for more than a hundred yards or they overheat.”

  Justin put his hands on his hips. He had a Dr. Seuss book tucked under his arm. “Dayne doesn’t care about the cheetah.”

  “Actually, I do.” His heart went out to Shawn. He was the oldest of the three adopted boys but easily the smallest. His love for animals was clearly a God-given gift, something the Flanigans obviously encouraged. Even if Shawn took a little razzing from his brothers. Dayne patted the cover of the animal book. “How about you and I take some time tomorrow, and you show me the best stuff?”

  “Cool!” Shawn set the book on his nightstand. “I’ll tell you about the lion and his den and all about the life span of the sea turtle.”

  Katy sat on the other bed facing Dayne and Shawn. She thumbed through the pages of the Dr. Seuss book and smiled. “I like this one.”

  “Me too.” BJ scooted in and sat next to her.

  Justin sat on the other side of Katy, and Ricky joined Dayne and Shawn.

  Ricky swung his legs and sat at the edge of the mattress. “Show us the pictures, please.”

  For a few seconds, Dayne felt as if ten years had passed by and these were their kids, this warm house their home. Would it be like this? The normalcy of a bedtime routine? Or would he be gone half the time filming movies? Once he fulfilled his current contract, the choice would be his. But if he didn’t make the decision sometime soon, his agent would sign him up for another six films, and there would be no getting out of it.

  Katy turned to the first page and began to read. “‘The Star-Belly Sneetches had bellies with stars. The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars. . . .’”

  The story went on about the Star-Belly Sneetches feeling superior because of the stars on their bellies and how Sylvester McMonkey McBean, a clever charlatan, came through town and—for a price—offered the Plain-Belly Sneetches stars on their bellies.

  Ricky laughed at the part where McBean offered to remove the stars from the Star-Belly Sneetches so they could still be different.

  When the story ended, the Sneetches were broke, having run in and out of the star machines, but they were also wiser, and they made a decision. It no longer mattered whether a Sneetch had a star or not—they were all the same on the inside, and they all deserved to be viewed with respect.

  “Know what it’s really about?” BJ brought his legs up under him and looked at Katy. “It’s about how people shouldn’t judge you on how you look.”

  “Not the color of your skin or your eyes or your hair or if you have freckles.” Ricky touched his freckled face. “’Cause God made us all and we’re His kids—no matter how different we look.”

  Dayne took in the scene, and he felt himself choke up. Here were four boys—three black, one white—all with different birth parents and backgrounds, each one with his own unique look. And yet clearly they’d heard this Dr. Seuss story many times before. Because the moral had been spelled out for them by their parents, and the boys believed it to their very core.

  Katy closed the book and glanced at the little faces around the room. “You’re right. God made us all different, but He loves us the same.”

  “God has the biggest box of crayons ever.” Justin laughed. “That’s what Mom says. He wouldn’t be a very creative God if He made everyone look alike.”

  “Yeah.” BJ yawned, and the dawning of a realization came across his features. He stopped and looked from Katy to Dayne. “Have we heard from Mom and Dad?”

  Dayne had known this moment was coming. He and Katy could only keep the boys distracted for so long. He glanced at Katy, and she took his cue. “Your dad called after dinner. Cody’s still very sick. I said we’d pray that he gets better.”

  Next to him, Dayne could feel Ricky start to shake. He looked, and sure enough, the boy had covered his face and he was crying.

  “Why’d he have to go and drink that alcohol?” Anger colored Justin’s expression. “He promised he wouldn’t do that.”

  “Could he die?” BJ blinked back tears.

  This wasn’t the time for nice-sounding answers. These boys were only years away from facing the same kinds of decisions. Dayne bit his lip. “Yes, he could die.” He looked at the sad and scared faces around him. “When people drink too much alcohol, they sometimes die because of it.” He reached out and took hold of Ricky’s hand. “That’s why we’re going to pray for him right now.”

  Justin was the natural leader among the brothers, no question. It showed in everything he did, and this was no exception. “Can I pray first?” Katy told him yes, and he folded his hands and bowed his head, drawing a shaky breath. “Dear God, Dad says You brought Cody into our lives for a reason. But now he’s sick in the hospital, and I don’t think we had enough time to help him.” Justin’s voice broke, but he continued anyway. “Please don’t let him die. He needs to learn about You so he can see that he doesn’t need to drink that junk. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Justin’s prayer started a chain reaction, and the boys took turns asking God to heal Cody. Ricky prayed that the Lord would “give our friend Cody just one more chance.”

  When they were finished, everyone had tears on their cheeks, and Dayne was sure he’d been part of something very special. The room felt filled with the presence of God in a way Dayne had never experienced before. Because until now he’d never been around children whose faith was so sweet and strong.

  Dayne and Katy tucked the boys into bed and shifted the conversation to the front yard football game. By the time they turned off the lights, the boys were still sad, but they weren’t crying.

  After the doors to both bedrooms were shut, Dayne and Katy headed for the stairs. When they reached the first step, Dayne stopped and leaned against the wall. “That was amazing.”

  “You were.” Katy eased her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “I think I love you more right now than ever before. You’re so good with those boys, Dayne. I was watching you and thinking of everything we have ahead of us, and . . . I don’t know. I could barely breathe.”

  Dayne kissed the top of her head. “I felt the same way. Watching you read to them.” He pulled back a little and found her eyes. “And that talent you have in the kitchen . . . wow, Katy.”

  She gave him a light punch on the arm. “Thanks.” She took his hand and led the way down the stairs. “We’ll be married fifty years before I ever live that one down.”

  Dayne laughed. “Maybe not even then.”

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dayne could hardly wait until Katy was reading Dr. Seuss to their own children, kids who would understand God and trust Him the way the Flanigan kids did.

  Now it was a matter of holding tight to real life in a real place like Bloomington and enjoying every moment along the way.

  Katy’s heart was full as she reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the sofa where they’d watched the basketball game earlier. Dayne could tease about her cooking, but she could sense what he was feeling, how the bedtime ritual upstairs had touched him the same way it had touched her.

  When he was seated on the couch beside her, she pulled up her legs and faced him. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad someday, Dayne Matthews
.”

  “I’ve played one in the movies.” He grinned and reached for her hand.

  “Never mind the movies. I mean right here in Bloomington in our lake house, with me and whatever kids God blesses us with down the road.”

  His look went deep, to the private areas of her heart where only he was allowed. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  “It’s true. The boys could’ve been upset all day. You knew just what it would take to make the day fun and still have Cody on their hearts when it was time for bed.”

  “I loved it.” Dayne’s smile faded. “It’s what I would’ve had if I’d grown up here.” The seriousness of his tone, his expression, didn’t last long. The corners of his lips curved again. “But at least I have it now.” He leaned close and gave her a tender kiss, just brief enough to be careful. “And one day we’ll share this same kind of life with our kids.”

  “But first we have to get married.” Katy loved this—the way she and Dayne could tease each other. “I haven’t heard much about the plans.”

  “Ah, my secret weapon.” Dayne turned and brought one leg onto the couch. “Everything came together this morning. I was going to tell you, but, well . . . a football game broke out instead.”

  “And a basketball game.”

  “That too.”

  She laughed. “Okay, so tell me.”

  “Her name’s Wilma Waters, and she’s the best wedding coordinator in Hollywood.”

  A wedding coordinator? Katy gulped and tried not to show a negative reaction. Of course they’d have a wedding coordinator. That’s what people with money did, right? And now that she was marrying Dayne, she fit into that category. But she hadn’t thought about a wedding coordinator. She tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was “Wow.”

  “I know. I can’t believe she was available.”

  “Lucky for us.” Katy did her best to sound sincere, but she was struggling. She’d figured Dayne was talking to someone who could help them pull off a secret wedding. But a coordinator? It sounded so . . . so impersonal. The people she knew didn’t hire wedding coordinators. They gathered their friends and family and planned a wedding themselves. “Meaning . . . she handles everything?”

  “Everything!” Dayne didn’t pick up on her hesitancy. “She takes care of the guest list and the location, the flowers and the theme colors, the decorations and whatever else you need for the perfect wedding.” He held out his hands. “But the best part is, she’s an expert at keeping the whole thing a secret from the media.”

  Katy reminded herself to exhale. Here was the first piece of good news, news she could relate to. “We’ll need that.”

  “We will.” Dayne rested his arm along the back of the couch. “Wilma agreed the breaking point is usually fifty people. If your list is fifty or fewer guests, she can almost guarantee the press won’t find out. But when it’s more than that, it takes a full-blown plan to pull it off.”

  “But she thinks we can do it?”

  “She does.”

  Katy heard the patter of little feet on the stairs and the muffled sound of tears. Before either of them could ask who was out of bed, Ricky rounded the corner. His blond hair was messy from the pillow, and he was rubbing his eyes. Ricky was a sleepwalker and he slept light, though he’d been doing better lately. But every now and then he found a way back downstairs after lights-out.

  Katy whispered in Dayne’s direction, “He has a hard time getting to sleep.”

  Dayne nodded. “Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?”

  Ricky squinted. He came close and looped his arm around Dayne’s neck. “They won’t let me win.”

  “They won’t . . . ?” Dayne directed a questioning look at Katy.

  “Sleepwalking,” she mouthed.

  Understanding filled his eyes. He put his arm around Ricky’s waist. “They won’t let you win?”

  “No.” Ricky did a dramatic shake of his head. His eyes were open and filled with fear and frustration. But he had that look he always had when he sleepwalked. “Every time I try they won’t let me.”

  Dayne hesitated. “Okay . . . now they said they’ll let you. The next time you try you’ll win for sure.”

  Katy’s heart melted. Dayne was compassionate with the child, and she realized that other than her CKT kids, she hadn’t seen him interact with children before. They’d talked about kids, but this was the first time she’d seen Dayne act like a daddy. She kept watching.

  The fear in Ricky’s eyes faded, and he yawned. His arm was still around Dayne’s neck, and now he added his other arm for a full hug. “That’s all I wanted.” He pulled back and shrugged. “But they wouldn’t let me win.”

  “They will now.” Dayne’s voice was confident, his tone reassuring.

  “I don’t have to win every time.” He blinked, and his face looked more alert, as if maybe he was waking up a little.

  “I know.” Dayne stood and took Ricky’s hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  Katy smiled. She pulled one knee close to her chest and watched Dayne lead Ricky across the room and around the corner up the stairs.

  After a few minutes, she heard Dayne quietly coming back down. When he came into view, he stopped and pressed his hand to his heart. “I love that kid. We get to his room, and he asked if Cody was home yet.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Dayne took his place facing her on the sofa again. “I told him that Cody was still in the hospital, and we’d have to keep praying for him.” He smiled. “So the little guy yawns and says Cody’s going to be fine. Jesus already told him.”

  “He’s a sweetheart.” Katy looked at a portrait of the Flanigan family that hung on the wall near the patio door. “It’s always interesting to me how Ricky was the one who had emergency heart surgery when he was three weeks old, and now he’s the one with the most tender heart.”

  “I forgot about that.”

  “His scar goes from the middle of his back and curves around his shoulder blade to his side. He’s perfectly fine now. A real miracle boy.”

  Dayne put his arm on the back of the sofa and leaned his head against his fist. “How many kids, Katy? Two? Three?” He grinned. “Six like the Flanigans?”

  Katy laughed. “Probably not six.” They’d talked about this before, but their answers changed every time. “Jenny told me they planned on two, but God planned on six.” She raised one shoulder. “That could happen, I guess.”

  “I guess.” Dayne looked like he felt dizzy at the thought. “We could have ten, and the way God’s been with us, He’d see us through somehow.”

  “He would.” Katy reached out and took his hand. She loved that here away from Hollywood and the pace of his filming schedule, their conversations sounded like they belonged to people with perfectly normal lives. Not the insane paparazzi chase and movie contracts and filming schedules that had dominated their talks when he lived in Los Angeles.

  Katy ran her thumb over Dayne’s fingers. “As long as you get your little girl.”

  Dayne gave a slow shake of his head. “I can’t imagine how it would feel, watching you have a baby and holding my daughter for the first time. It’s something I barely let myself dream about. Especially after . . .”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Katy knew he was thinking about the baby he lost, the one that had been aborted. “That moment will be special in a lot of ways.”

  “Yes.” After a few seconds he grinned. “I can only say heaven help the boy who tries to date any girl of mine.”

  Katy wanted to slide closer and kiss him, tell him she felt the same way and that—girl or boy—she could hardly wait for that day. Instead she leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “I guess we better talk about the wedding.”

  “Before we plan the nursery, you mean?” A crooked smile flashed on his face.

  “Yes. Before that. Now this wedding coordinator . . . do we get input?” Katy kept her tone light. “Or do we tell her what we want and she does the rest?”r />
  Dayne released her hand and sat straighter. There was no denying his excitement as he talked about having Wilma on their side. “She’ll do as much or as little as we want.” His eyes lit up, the way they always did when they talked about the wedding. “She’s flying into Indianapolis on Monday, meeting us at the Hyatt.”

  The meeting at the Hyatt had all the makings of a media circus. She wrinkled her nose. “What about the press?”

  “Wilma’s coming with ideas.” Dayne slid a little closer. His voice told her there was nothing to worry about and no need to talk about the wedding further until they had their meeting with Wilma. “The main thing is privacy. After my accident . . . I want to keep it a secret from the tabloids. If they find out . . .” He looked away for a few seconds. “If they find out, it’ll be like having the person who tried to kill you crash the biggest day of your life.” His tone was still gentle, but the muscles in his jaw flexed. “I won’t have it.”

  Katy understood. Until Thanksgiving, they’d been so consumed with getting Dayne well enough to walk, well enough to fly to Bloomington, that there had been no talk about the wedding or flowers or cakes or churches. None of the usual things an engaged couple talked about. And now—clearly—Dayne trusted Wilma Waters. They could share their ideas with her, and she would have the momentous task of helping them plan a secret ceremony. It didn’t matter where that would take place—at Bloomington Community Church or on the lawn of their lake house—so much as that they pulled off that one crucial detail.

  Keeping it from the press.

  Dayne was rubbing his leg, the one he’d nearly lost in the accident.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “A little.” He smiled, but his face was shadowed by a look that was common since he woke from his coma. “The game was probably a little much.”

  Feelings welled up inside Katy. Pride for how far he’d come since the accident and sorrow over how close she’d been to losing him. In some ways, she still couldn’t believe that they were here, having the most normal of days. Katy put her hand on his knee. She wanted to know if she was right about the look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about the accident.”