Sunrise

by Karen Kingsbury

  Dayne’s emotions were raw and easy to read. Indebtedness for all the hours she’d spent by his side, praying for him, believing he’d pull through. And a love so strong and honest it almost hurt. He covered her hand with his. “Am I that obvious?”

  “There’s a look you get.” Katy tilted her head, hoping he could feel the way her heart went out to him. “I always figure you’re thinking about the accident when I see that look.”

  Dayne averted his gaze. “Sometimes I see it happening again. I’m driving along, and Randi Wells is in front of me, and I see the paparazzi come up on either side of her.” He blinked and turned back to Katy. “They’re pressing in on her, trying to snap a picture at forty miles an hour, and she’s jerking her car left and right, all nervous. The rest of it happened too fast to remember, except for the truck . . . the way it came straight at me. I can see that the same as I did when it happened.”

  Katy didn’t say anything for a while. She held his knee a little tighter and swallowed back a wave of sadness and terror. The accident so easily could’ve killed him. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re really here. That you’re well enough to even sit beside me.”

  “The part that still needs work is my heart.” He made a frustrated face. “I keep thinking I’m over it, not angry at the paparazzi anymore. They were just doing their job, you know?”

  “But they were doing it illegally.” Katy felt her own anger ignite. “What happened that day was completely their fault.”

  “I said that exact thing to Bob the other day when he called. And Bob told me I had to be careful.” Dayne was still having weekly conversations with Bob Asher, his missionary friend in Mexico, and he was glad for the challenge of getting to know God and understanding His Word better.

  Katy wasn’t sure where Dayne was going with this. “About what?”

  “Getting a hard heart. Staying mad at them and holding it against them anytime I’m around a photographer. Bob said all that’ll do is hurt me.”

  Again Katy thanked God for the wisdom of Bob Asher. The guy seemed to always come through at the right time with the words Dayne needed to take the next step in his faith. Katy hadn’t thought much about it, but Bob was right. Dealing with his feelings toward the paparazzi was something Dayne would have to do—especially once he returned to Los Angeles.

  Maybe sooner, if the banquet manager at the Hyatt hadn’t kept quiet about their Monday meeting.

  Dayne lowered his leg to the floor and ran his fingers along Katy’s face. “I’ve just had the best day ever.” He cupped the back of her head with his hand and studied her. “I don’t want to talk about the paparazzi.”

  Katy was always amazed at how quickly her feelings could intensify when Dayne was close to her this way. Suddenly she couldn’t think from the nearness of him. “Dayne . . .” She was going to tell him that maybe they should step outside, sit on the front porch glider, and look at the stars—anything to keep from getting too close to him.

  But before she could say anything, Dayne brought his other hand up alongside her face. “I love you.” He breathed the words against her face. They weren’t filled with the familiar desire but with a desperation, especially in light of all they’d been given, all they’d almost lost.

  He brushed his lips against hers, and for the sweetest minute they let themselves be lost in the moment, in the rush of everything they felt for each other.

  When she came up for air, she sat back. “So . . . you think Jenny’ll smell the smoke in the kitchen?”

  A chuckle filled his throat. “In other words, we better take a break?”

  Katy drew a quick breath and released it slowly. “I know I better.”

  The house was quiet except for the occasional sound of the ice maker and the subtle hum of the heater. Tonight was supposed to get down into the twenties, and Jenny and Jim kept the house cozy.

  “Maybe we should light the fireplace in the living room.” Dayne grinned. “Then the smell wouldn’t be so obvious.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a playful push. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, is it?”

  Before he could answer, the phone rang. For the past hour she’d almost forgotten about Cody Coleman and the battle he was waging against alcohol poisoning. Now she looked at Dayne, and fear painted broad strokes across her heart. “Probably Jenny.” She hopped up and ran to the kitchen, picking up the receiver on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “Katy?” The relief in Jenny’s voice filled the phone line in as much time as it took her to say Katy’s name. She uttered a quick cry. “Cody’s awake. His doctor said he’s going to be okay.”

  “Oh, Jenny . . . thank You, God.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds and silently prayed. Every year kids died from drinking too much. But by God’s grace alone, Cody Coleman wouldn’t be one of them. Not this time.

  “He’s groggy and nauseous and embarrassed.” Jenny sounded drained from the vigil. “He can’t believe he nearly died and all he put us through.”

  Katy turned and caught Dayne’s eye. She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. Then she gripped the phone a little tighter. “He needs help. . . . Does he realize that?”

  “He’s still pretty sick, but yes. He’s more broken than I’ve ever seen him. He’s been awake for about an hour, and the tears keep streaming down his face.”

  “Maybe this’ll turn things around for him.”

  “I think so.” The relief was back in Jenny’s voice. “We almost lost him. Another hour and the stomach pumping might’ve been too late.”

  Katy shuddered.

  They talked another few minutes, and Jenny said that though Cody couldn’t come home until Sunday, the rest of them would be back in the next half hour. “Everything okay with the kids?”

  “We had a blast. Played football and made dinner together. Read The Sneetches.” Details about the fire department could wait until later. “Dayne loved it.”

  They finished the call, and Katy returned to the sofa. “Cody’s been awake for an hour. The doctor said he’ll be okay.”

  Dayne stood and faced her. “He woke up an hour ago?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Katy slipped her arms around his waist and searched his face. “Why?”

  “That’s when Ricky told me he wasn’t worried about Cody. Jesus had already told him that Cody would be okay.” Dayne shook his head. “I figured he was still half asleep.”

  “Makes you wonder.” She held his gaze for another couple of seconds, then led him toward the living room. “About that fire . . .”

  They lit the fireplace and sat on the rug and talked until the Flanigans came home. But even then, Katy was taken Ricky’s words, how he’d been so confident that Cody would be okay. All because Jesus told him so. Ricky had a pure, untainted faith—the faith of a child. Exactly the sort of faith God called all His people to have.

  Katy was still pondering this after Dayne had gone to the Baxter house for the night. Without question, Ricky believed in God’s power to make a difficult situation work out. If she and Dayne were to navigate the paparazzi between now and the wedding, without the bitterness Dayne had talked about, one thing was certain.

  The two of them would have to do the same.

  They called it Laughter and Leftovers, part of the Baxter tradition. Ashley was stirring milk into a pot of mashed potatoes, working alongside her sisters, Kari, Brooke, and Erin.

  Ashley pressed her spoon against the lumps in the potatoes. The familiarity of the night was comforting. Especially on a day when she was missing her mom more than usual. Laughter and Leftovers was her mother’s idea, after all. Every Thanksgiving weekend, the entire Baxter family would gather at their parents’ house on Saturday night for another round of turkey and the stuffing, salads, and vegetables that went with it. Usually one or more of them had a story to tell about hanging up the Christmas lights or shopping in the mad dash the day before, and always the family found a reason to laugh.

  Ashley moved her spoon slowly. As long as she had breath, she wou
ld see that they kept the tradition. It was one more way they could keep their mother’s memory alive.

  “You’re quiet.” Kari took the spot beside her. She was adding water to the green peas, which Ashley had already placed in a saucepan.

  “Missing Mom.” Ashley kept her words quiet, so only Kari would hear. Her dad’s friend Elaine Denning was here. She was sitting in the family room with Reagan, Katy, Ashley’s dad, and the other men, all of whom had been placed on dish duty for later tonight. Landon was holding Devin, rocking him to sleep before dinnertime.

  “I know what you mean. Thanksgiving was such a rush, so exciting with Dayne home and all the work on the lake house.”

  “But today it’s hitting me.” Ashley stared at the potatoes. “How she’ll never be with us at a time like this again.”

  “This morning Jessie saw Mom’s picture—you know, the framed one I keep on the kitchen counter.” Kari found a spoon in the drawer beside the stove. She stirred the peas and then stopped and looked at Ashley. “I asked her if she remembered Grandma. She looked at the photo for a long time, and then she said, ‘I think so.’”

  Ashley smiled, but her eyes filled with tears. “Jessie was only two when Mom died. All the kids are bound to forget eventually.” She blinked, and a single tear fell onto her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her hand. “Even Cole, and Mom practically raised him until Landon came back into my life.”

  “I think we’re all feeling it today. When I got here, Brooke was in the guest room looking at that painting, the one you did of Mom and Dad walking the path behind the house.”

  “I love that old painting.” The potatoes were starting to bubble. Ashley turned down the heat. “I painted it for one of their anniversaries.”

  “Because they were always out back walking together.”

  “Whenever us kids had issues, they either sat in their chairs in the living room or out on the porch or they went on a walk.” The memory warmed Ashley’s heart. “I can still remember looking out the back window and seeing them out there, hand in hand.”

  On the other side of the kitchen, Brooke and Erin were slicing fresh cucumbers for the salad when one of the slices shot across the room and hit the floor just as Ryan came in.

  Ryan’s heel landed squarely on the cucumber slice, and his foot flew out from underneath him. He grabbed the refrigerator handle to keep from falling.

  For a moment, Brooke and Erin tried not to laugh, but then the image of big, strapping Ryan hanging on to the refrigerator handle as if his life depended on it was too much to take. Before he found his footing again, Ashley’s two sisters burst into laughter.

  “That reminds me.” Kari elbowed Ashley. “This is called Laughter and Leftovers for a reason.” She whispered the next part. “If it weren’t for the cucumber, I’d be ready for a long walk and a good cry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ashley watched Erin pick up the mashed cucumber from the floor. She felt a ripple of laughter stir inside her. “Hey, Ryan, could you do that again?”

  Ryan was cleaning off the heel of his tennis shoe with a napkin. “That’s what I’m here for—to keep you girls entertained.” He bowed toward Erin and Brooke, who were now doubled over laughing. “Glad to be of service.” He found his cup of coffee and reenacted his near fall before leaving the kitchen.

  Brooke was trying to catch her breath. “I’ve never . . . seen a cucumber shoot . . . so far.”

  “Like . . . as soon as you sliced it, the thing was desperate to get away.” Erin dabbed at her eyes. She drew a long breath. “My goodness, we’re silly.”

  Yes, Ashley thought. And if the night was going to be celebrated the way their mother would’ve wanted them to celebrate it, then Erin and Brooke couldn’t be the only ones laughing.

  While they finished fixing dinner, Ashley forced herself not to think about her mother or the fact that Elaine Denning was in the other room sitting in the seat where her mother was supposed to sit. Her feelings were strange, really. She’d already worked through the idea that her father had a female friend, and during the fixing of Dayne and Katy’s house, she’d even made peace with the idea. She was the one who’d called and invited Elaine to help in the final push to finish the work. But somehow having Elaine here—not for dessert but for the entire evening—felt strange and uncomfortable. Threatening.

  Ashley told herself to stay calm, and by the time they sat down to dinner, she had let the subject go.

  Once again they were at two long tables. The dining room was crowded, and laughter came from every direction. Ashley reminded herself that the sound of everyone in one space, enjoying each other and life, was the reason for the dinner.

  Still, Landon gave her a curious look after they sat down. “You okay?” He searched her eyes.

  Ashley smiled at him and looked deep to the heart of the man who had never given up on her, never let her go no matter how hard she’d fought him. “Yes.” She took hold of his hand. “I’m fine.”

  Landon held her eyes a little longer. He knew her too well to be tricked by her simple answer. But he also knew that this wasn’t the time to make her open her soul. They could do that later. He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Devin’s asleep?”

  “In the portable crib.” He laughed. “One of the portable cribs. When this many of us are together, we need a whole room for little beds.”

  Ashley watched her dad reach for the hands on either side of him. Which meant that somewhere beneath the dinner table, he was holding Elaine’s hand. Ashley refused to let the thought take root. Everyone always held hands around the Baxter table. Instead she focused on the people around the two tables. Brooke was sitting beside her husband, Peter, and their young daughters, Maddie and Hayley, who had recovered well enough from her drowning incident a few years back that she could sit at the table and eat with the rest of them. Near them were Erin and Sam and their little girls—Clarisse, Chloe, Amy, and Heidi Jo.

  Ashley savored the sensation of Landon’s hand in hers. She smiled at him and then gazed into the eyes of Cole, the son he’d taken as his own. Finally she looked at Katy and Dayne and at her younger brother, Luke; his wife, Reagan; and their preschool-aged son, Tommy, who was holding tight to the hand of his little adopted Chinese sister, Malin. And Kari and Ryan with their kids, Jessie and RJ, who was still in a high chair.

  They were the kind of family others longed for, even with their quirks and funny moments of slipping on cucumber slices or crying over the mashed potatoes. The people surrounding Ashley were the ones she loved most in all the world. If her mother were here, she would’ve done the same thing—taken stock of the faces and young families around the room, grateful for each.

  Her father prayed, and afterwards Cole looked around the table at his cousins. “I start basketball next week!”

  “Me too!” Maddie raised both hands in the air. “Hot Shots!”

  Hot Shots was a program sponsored by the city that allowed kids through sixth grade the chance to play basketball before the competitive levels of club or high school sports. Ashley and Landon had stayed for a few of Cole’s practices. She looked at Brooke. “How’s her team? I mean, what’s the coach like?”

  “She wants to win, but she’s been good with the girls.” Brooke glanced at her husband, Peter. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  Peter hesitated. “The woman played at Indiana University ten years ago. That sort of drive for hoops never leaves your blood.” He looked doubtful, as if the whole idea of getting kids involved in basketball in hoops-crazy Indiana wasn’t the smartest thing. “I guess we’ll know more when the games start.”

  Ashley shared a concerned look with Landon. She didn’t want to say too much with Cole sitting next to her, but she was having her doubts too. She met Brooke’s eyes over the top of Cole’s head. “Our coach said he’ll be disappointed if we don’t take first place.”

  “Yeah.” Cole looked at Ashley and then at everyone around the table. “Coach says at the end of practice everyone has to ma
ke their layups, and if we don’t, then we all run lines.”

  That wasn’t all, but Ashley would talk about it with Brooke later on. For now, she hoped they could talk about throwing a wedding shower for Katy, who was sitting at the other table with Dayne and their dad and Elaine.

  Cole was going on about one boy on the team who couldn’t make a layup if his life depended on it and how the whole team had to run lines because of him. “Sometimes after practice he cries.” Compassion laced Cole’s tone. “I feel sorry for him, ’cause he told me his dad likes basketball a whole lot, and his dad gets mad at him when he misses.”

  Ashley had seen this for herself. It was another reason she wanted to talk to Brooke. Organized sports were the norm for kids anymore, and Cole and Maddie were both athletic enough to play. Besides, like many kids in Indiana, they loved basketball. But she and Landon were new at this. They could use all the help they could get.

  Ashley waited until Cole took a break to eat a few bites of turkey. “So, Erin, when do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow.” She made a sad face. “Things are crazy at Sam’s work, and the girls need their routine.”

  Ashley felt for her sister. This was the hardest part of their holiday gatherings—eventually everyone had to find their way back to work and home and their regular routines. “When do you come back?”

  “Summer.” Erin gave her husband a questioning look. “Maybe.”

  “The company’s going through tough times. There could be pay cuts.” Sam looked at the others and then down at his plate. He’d seemed troubled this trip, and now his attitude made sense. He had a lot to deal with, supporting Erin and their four girls.

  “There’s always the university.” Ashley tried to sound hopeful. “You could teach engineering or finances. Either one, really.”

  “I’ve thought about it.” Sam looked up. Weariness hung in every word. “I guess I keep thinking I’ll make it through to the management level, and then the struggle will be worthwhile.”

  Brooke was sitting on the other side of Sam. She smiled at him. “At least we get to see you a couple times a year.”