She leaned in. “Not a word, Casper. Not. A. Word.”
“I mean, this makes it church-official, doesn’t it?”
“Ha ha.”
He nodded toward the sanctuary doors. “And you made it on time even. That’s just—wow. Really impressive. Inspiring, even.”
Hilarious. Just because Vivien’s right-on-time had been historically just a smidge past the first hymn didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of a timely entrance.
“Behave, Casper.” Raina winked at Vivien and gave Casper’s arm a gentle nudge.
And, see? That’s how it should be. A husband, a wife, their children. Together.
“Will you be joining us for the women’s Bible study? We start in three weeks.” Raina tugged a flyer from her Bible and handed it to Vivien.
“I’ll think about it.” Vivien skimmed the page, a verse written in bold across the top. She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. She tucked the flyer into her purse. For a girl who’d spent most of her life trying to control her future—or, at least, the appearance of it—Vivien could hardly imagine what living without fear of it could be like.
Boone turned back from Pastor Dan.
“I hear you’ve been working with the football team.” Casper gave him an approving nod.
“Oh, just a bit.”
So like him to shrug off any praise. Ironic for someone who so deeply seemed to long for approval. Without fear of the future.
The music started and Vivien led the way to her usual seat at the end of the row that held the Zimmerman family, including Ree and Seth. Vivien expected there’d be a date set before long—now that Seth’s custom home building business was up and running, they’d have time to plan a wedding.
She tried to focus in on the sermon, not be drawn away by the two pews full of Christiansens. Three generations, nearly ready to spill into another row.
And the still-fresh-from-her-late-honeymoon Megan Barrett, her husband Cole, and her son Josh. Everywhere Vivien looked, families filled the pews.
Maybe that’s why her flat in New York City had never felt like home. Because deep down, Vivien longed to be somewhere where people knew her. Somewhere she belonged. Just like every other person who filled the church around her. Generations. And, yeah, even Ree, who’d once wanted to get out of Deep Haven, had come back home. And now, she had Seth.
Boone’s woodsy, masculine scent twined around her, the heat of his body against her as they scooched together and made room for a latecomer.
They stood for a song. Boone stared at his hymnal, as if reading a dissertation, a pensive smile on his lips. But then, when the congregation hit the fourth verse, his rich tenor vibrated deep in her soul.
“‘All to Jesus I surrender, Lord, I give myself to Thee; fill me with Thy love and power, Let Thy blessing fall on me.’”
He could sing. Like, he could sing. And she found herself leaning into it, the lyrics echoing a tender longing in her soul. All to Jesus I surrender.
Surrender. As in trust. As in be vulnerable.
Not play a part anymore.
Problem was, pretend didn’t break her heart. No matter what happened under the spotlight, pretend was safe. At the end of the night, she walked away from the heartache.
But maybe she also walked away from a happy ending.
After the sermon ended, she left Boone at the cookie table and made her way back into the sanctuary where the cast had assembled.
Beth stood next to Ella, Jason, Courtney, and Adam.
“We’re going to meet in the classroom across the hall so we’re out of the way.”
They exchanged glances and fell in line, weaving through the congregation gathering in conversations and making their way into the classroom. They all stood in silence.
Apparently, a little case of stage nerves had wiggled its way into her cast.
But it was going to be okay, wherever they landed.
She had the perfect cast for the perfect play to set right all that had gone off the rails for her career.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen. Pastor Dan’s wife, Ellie, will be playing piano for us. She can’t join us today, though.” She rubbed her hands together. “Are the rest of you ready to dive into rehearsal?”
Blinks. Glances.
“You guys have got this—we’ll take it slow and you’ll be just fine.”
Jason looked at the others and stepped forward. “I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. What’s up?” Vivien sidled up next to him.
He looked away.
“Jason?” She put a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”
He blew out a long breath and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I already told the others. I just got a callback from my agent. I have to head to California for a part. I—I won’t be around for the show.”
Her lead. Her perfect lead was leaving town. To pursue his dream. Just like she’d once imagined she’d do.
She squared her shoulders. Swallowed. Smiled. “That’s great! You’ve been wanting to get into the biz for ages—I remember you talking about that possibility last spring. When do you leave?”
“I’m actually packing up and heading out of town today. I’m so sorry.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see the cast standing. Watching. Waiting to see what their director would do. She smoothed her hands over the fabric of her dress, inhaled, and slowly released the breath.
“You, sir, have nothing to be sorry about. You’re going to go home, you’re going to pack up, and you’re going to go chase your dream.” She brushed her hand down his arm, gave it a squeeze. “You’re going to do great.”
He didn’t move. “I just—I feel badly leaving the show.”
“Listen, now, you look at me.” She waited until he raised his eyes to meet hers. Even though he wasn’t much younger than her and they’d grown up together, Jason felt more like a little brother to her than a peer. “You deserve this opportunity. This is what you were meant to do.” She gestured toward the rest of the cast. “And we certainly support you. I’m serious. You go pack up. You say goodbye to your family and hug your parents. And know”—she placed her hand over his heart—“that this is what you’re meant for. We’re going to be just fine here. We’ll miss you, but we’ll be just fine.” She hoped.
He nodded. “Thanks, Vivie.”
She gave his shoulder a little shake before releasing him and then giving him a big hug. “Break a leg.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a final squeeze. “Thank you.” And he was gone.
Out of the classroom. Out of her play.
She rubbed her hands together. “All right, everyone. Let’s take five while I do a little brainstorming.”
“What’s going to happen with the show?” Beth asked.
“We’ll do the show. We’ll get a replacement. The show must go on, right?” She threw her hands into the air with enthusiasm that didn’t reach her soul.
“Right,” Ella said, nodding in agreement.
Beth sat down at the piano and began tinkering with the melody of one of her songs. Ella slid onto the bench next to her to sing along.
Through the open classroom door, Boone stood, cookie in hand—and she found it ever-so-hot the way the little edge of white undershirt could be seen where the top button had been left undone.
He was chatting it up with Caleb and Issy.
Boone.
He could do it. He’d proven it when she’d handed him the script at auditions. He’d played the lead as if the part was made for him.
It was going to take every ounce of charm she had to convince him. Otherwise, there was no way the play was actually going to happen.
And another failure was not an option.
Even after the church service ended, Boone could still feel the thrumming of the hymns in his soul as he grabbed an oatmeal cookie from the fellowship hall. Sitting in the middle of a church body was far different than listening over the internet.
<
br /> Maybe Caleb was right. Maybe Boone could find a way to embrace the life he had.
He looked at the scripture printed in the bulletin from Isaiah 43.
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. God knew him. Knew every way he’d tried to live up to expectations.
But redemption came from God.
Could he live a life where he was not defined by the mistakes he’d made, nor the mistakes of his parents?
The question prodded Boone. Because he’d spent his career in Kellogg trying to prove he could protect the town. And the police chief job—that would seal the deal.
So, maybe he did cling a little tightly to his achievements.
“Glad you made it.” Caleb and Issy stood with fresh cups of coffee in hand.
“Thanks. I enjoyed the service.”
Issy nodded toward Tiger and another boy who walked by carrying several cookies each. “Looking forward to the game Friday night.”
“Me too,” Boone answered.
“You’ve been a lot of help with the team.” Caleb gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder. “We just might have to finagle a way to keep you around.”
Boone laughed and then shifted. Keep you around. The words rose in his chest, light and buoyant. “Well, I’m glad I can help.”
He hadn’t had time to do things in Kellogg like coach. His job had been all-consuming.
So, yeah, maybe Landry was right. Maybe he needed to ease up. Have some hobbies.
Except, the chief job would take up more time. He’d be attending meetings. Conferences. Working with the mayor and the city council.
“I hope you got that whole situation worked out with Kyle,” Issy said. “You seemed a bit edgy when we saw you yesterday.”
“Yeah, we’re working on it.” Okay, so he’d spent his entire Saturday evening mapping out all the potential suspects instead of reading.
“Good to hear. The last thing we want around here is to stress you out.” She gave him a kind smile. “Are you sitting in on rehearsals today?” Issy nodded toward the classroom the cast had disappeared into.
“I am. Even if theater’s not my thing, it sure beats spinning my wheels up at the cabin.”
Caleb laughed. “How’s that book coming along?”
Boone clutched at his chest. “Hey—don’t ruin a perfectly good Sunday morning like that.”
“Right.” Caleb took Issy’s hand. “We’ll see you later.” They took a few steps away. Paused. “But, from what you said, I do suggest you get more read before you see Rachelle again on Wednesday.”
“Good tip.” Boone grabbed one last cookie from the table before heading to rehearsal to show his support for Vivien’s endeavor. He took a seat at a table mid-way back in the classroom they’d designated for rehearsals.
He expected to find rehearsal underway, but Beth and Ella sat at the piano. Courtney stood behind them, studying her script, and Adam appeared to be deep in thought in a chair nearby.
Vivien slid into the seat next to him and if he had to venture a guess, she wanted something by the way she batted her eyes.
“Stop.”
Her lips curved in a smile. She took a breath. Exhaled. Gave him another coy blink. “What?”
“Are you just going to ask or what? I can tell you want something.”
“You used to do theater, didn’t you?”
“No. Not really.”
She tapped her fingertips together. “I know you were in a play a long time ago.”
He hardly thought an eighth-grade role as Robin Hood counted. “And you found that out how?” He’d talked to Caleb about a lot of things, but not that. Far too inconsequential. He’d only auditioned because he thought PJ would be in it.
She traced her finger across his wrist, sending a tingling sensation up his arm and across his body. “You know, around.”
Her fingertips felt like silk against his skin. He cleared his throat. “Adrian?”
“Nooo.” She drew the word out.
“There’s no one else who—hey, have you been googling me?” He shifted in the chair.
She waggled her brows. “Maybe.”
“I don’t even want to know what weird yearbook archive page that came from.” Or whatever other parts of his past were highlighted.
“The tights were cute.”
Oh boy. “You know, some parent picked up a Peter Pan costume by mistake.”
She threw back her head and laughed. Like, full-on-this-is-hysterical-at-his-expense laughed.
And cried. She was laughing so hard she was crying. “I was wondering why Robin Hood was wearing that pointy hat and shoes!”
“This. This is exactly why I don’t do theater. I refuse to look like a fool like that.”
She blotted the tears from her cheeks with her sweater and slid her hand into his, her face turning serious.
“I’m sorry for laughing.” She obviously was trying to pull herself together. Not very well. “No, really. I’m sorry. You were just so adorable.”
“Right.” He looked at his watch. The book suddenly seemed like a great Sunday afternoon read.
“I need you to take a part.”
He stilled. “No. No way.”
“You can sing.”
“I can’t sing.”
“I just heard you singing hymns. And you sing in the car all the time. You’re a good singer.”
“Oh, come on, Viv. Singing a hymn with an entire congregation is very different than being in the spotlight.” He cut her a look. “You, of all people, should know that. And the car? I hardly think singing to country songs with the top down counts.”
“Boone, please? I don’t have anyone else. You’ve gotta help me. You did great reading the lines at auditions.”
He raised a brow. “I’d hardly call that acting, Garbo.”
“It’s a bit like undercover work, isn’t it?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“I say it is. You take on the fake persona. Pretend to be someone else.”
“That’s not scripted and there’s no audience. And it’s for a good cause.”
“It’s not that different.” She reached out with both hands and took his. Stared at him for a few moments. “This is for a good cause.”
Wow. She had beautiful eyes. The smooth skin of her hands warmed him. Distracted him. And maybe that was the point because then she followed up with, “I need you.”
She needed him. And something about the raw scrape in her voice gave him pause. Weakened his resolve.
“You already have a full cast. I’ve seen the script. There aren’t any other characters.”
“I need you to take the part of Dylan.”
He pulled his hands out of hers and stood. “What? No way.”
She grabbed his shirt sleeve and held on, tugged him back down in his chair. Lowered her voice. “Please? I need you. You’re already familiar with some of the lines.”
“You have an actual actor cast in the part.”
“No, I don’t. Jason had to drop out.”
“What? We just saw him.”
“I know—he’s been waiting for this callback for a role in California for a long time. It’s his big break.”
“Viv…I’m not an actor. I’m not a singer.”
She looked him in the eye. Squeezed his hand. “You’re the guy who shows up.”
And, this time, her eyes held no guile. Just raw, honest need.
And she was right. He was always the guy who showed up. No matter how many times he shouldn’t.
And before he could stop himself with the good sense of reason, he uttered the word on a heavy sigh. “Okay.”
Vivien crushed him into a hug and squealed. “I knew I could count on you.”
He wasn’t sure how taking the lead role in the play would translate to Rachelle’s list of relaxing activities. Except, well, she did tell him making friends was good.
Vivien took a pencil and scribbled Jason’s name off the script, carefu
lly writing in Boone’s with her big, loopy handwriting. She held it out to him. “It’s all yours.”
He took the script. “I’m going to have to read it during rehearsal.”
“It’s okay. I’ll help you memorize it.” She stood and walked up front. “Okay, everyone, please gather around.”
Vivien waited as everyone stood and moved into a circle. Boone joined at the back.
“The show goes on.” She winked at Ella. “In that spirit, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our newest cast member, Boone Buckam, who will be assuming the role of Dylan.”
The circle opened up, enveloped him, and the others gave him knuckles and head nods and smiles. Even Beth gave him a kind, if shy, smile. He still couldn’t believe how her tiny little voice had become fuller and deepened almost to an alto when she’d auditioned.
The weight of their expectations pressed in on him. What was he doing? How had he ever let Vivien convince him to say yes?
“Are we ready to start?” Adam stood at the front of the classroom. “I’m sorry—I’m going to have to leave in an hour.”
“Okay, yes, we’ll be starting from the top.” She turned to Boone. “For now, just move as it feels natural. We’ll go over the blocking later. This first scene takes place along a downtown street and your character is approached by the heroine, Ashleigh. You’re both in town for the dreaded funeral of a high school friend. You’re confused, lost, facing your own limits and mortality.”
He nodded and walked to the front.
Vivien slipped into a folding chair front and center. “All right everyone, from the top of scene one.”
He pretended to stand in the park—which was actually the child-sized table—and he felt like an idiot.
“Dylan!”
Oh no. Beth approached from stage left, in character. Her big green eyes landed on him, bright with surprise. She wore a dark blue T-shirt that said “Grace” across the front, paired with faded jeans. And, well, she was actually kind of cute.
“When did you get back?” She embraced him in a hug, barely needing her script.
He swallowed, read, “Last night.” He glanced up at her. “I should have come by.”
“Yeah. I’ve missed you. Have you seen the others?”
Then Came You Page 17
