Someday: 3 (Sunrise) (29 page)

But as soon as she drew her first breath, Katy smelled fresh coffee. “What in the . . . ?” She set the last bag down and moved toward the smell. She rounded the corner and stepped into the spacious kitchen; it was empty but the coffeemaker was half-f. She might’ve just been blanketed with peace, but the idea of someone breaking into her house and brewing coffee was enough to make the blood drain from her face.

“Hello?” she called as she walked to the coffeepot. It was warm to the touch. Someone had indeed been here and made coffee. She looked up, her pulse thudding through her body. There were only two options—either they were still here, or they hadn’t been gone long.

She opened a drawer at the end of the granite counter and snatched a small can of pepper spray. Dayne had given it to her for when she might be out here at the lake alone and need some way to defend herself. She twisted it into position and held it straight out in front of her.

Slowly, cautiously, she tiptoed down the hall. “Hello . . . who’s here?” Her voice echoed against the walls, then faded. The house was deathly silent. “Hello?”

Katy reached their bedroom and aimed the pepper spray sharply around the corner. When no one jumped out or grabbed her, she poked her head into the doorway and peered around the room.

It was empty. But there, on the neatly made bed, was a piece of white paper. Katy blinked and lowered the pepper spray. What was this? Had someone broken in, made coffee, and left her a note? The idea seemed ludicrous. She crossed her room with steps that were more normal, less like something from a horror flick.

She picked up the note and the room tilted. It said,
Katy, meet me at the theater. Dayne.

What?
She blinked and read the note again. He was home? He was supposed to be in Los Angeles, unless somehow she’d lost a week. As she stared at the note once more, confusion rocked her soul. If he’d been home, why hadn’t he called her? And why would he want to meet her at the theater, when the building had already been torn down? She lowered herself to the bed to stop the room from spinning. Was this happening? Had he really come home before her?

The truth settled into place gradually, and the pieces began to come together. The coffee was Dayne’s doing, not the work of a stranger. But was he serious? He wanted her to drive through the snow and meet him at the place where the theater once stood? What was he up to?

Then the reality of his nearness overwhelmed her. Dayne was here! Home in Bloomington! And in just a little while she could see him again, hold him. Yes, they had differences to work through, but she understood now, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to see him, to tell him what she’d found out. She stood and grabbed a pair of boots and her thickest coat from the closet. Her car was in the garage. If Dayne wanted her to come, she would come.

Now if she could only make it to the theater.

Dayne sat at the center of the old wooden stage, the same place where Katy had been the first time he saw her. He’d contacted Stephen Petrel yesterday and learned that Katy was flying home today, arriving early in the morning. Dayne tracked her flight online and knew that she’d landed safely. He wasn’t sure how long it would take her to make it to Bloomington, but this was where he wanted to be when they first saw each other again.

Here, at the Bloomington Community Theater, where it all started.

His idea had come off without a hitch, and ten times an hour he asked himself why he hadn’t done it sooner. The reason, of course, was that he and Katy weren’t going to be around. Without Katy there to run CKT, if the theater was sold, then maybe it was God’s way of shutting a door. Ending a season.

The place was drafty, and in the hour since he’d arrived here this morning he’d walked around and found a long list of things that needed upgrading or replacing. No investor would tell him he’d been given a deal on the place, but Dayne didn’t care. He folded his hands and rested his forearms on his knees.

He could still see the face of the lead developer when he ran up and asked the crew to stop. At first the police had been angry, thinking him an insane citizen or some maniac intent on stopping progress. It took only a few seconds for them to realize who he was, and once he was able to explain himself, the police officer had introduced him to the developer.

“It’s about making money, right?” Dayne looked intently at the guy.

Hanson Development was well liked and respected throughout town. The organization donated to every charity in Bloomington and was a huge supporter of the local schools. No one blamed the developer for wanting condos where the theater stood. The townspeople were the ones who should’ve risen to the occasion long before now. If the city would’ve held an emergency meeting and purchased the building as a landmark, the situation never would have gotten this out of hand.

The developer had given Dayne a hesitant smile. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Matthews. Of course it’s about making money. But look . . . our plans are already in motion. We’ve invested a lot of money into making this project happen.”

“I realize that. I want to buy the theater.” Dayne took his checkbook from his pocket. “I’ll cover any of your expenses also.”

The man’s mouth hung slightly open, and it took a while before he summoned his team around. They agreed that if Dayne was serious, they could put off the demolition and move the meeting somewhere warm and dry. At least to talk about the possibility.

Dayne smiled at the memory. They’d come to terms before lunch, not only on the theater but on the buildings that stood on either side that were also slated for demolition. The price tag was high but nothing compared to what Dayne made per film. In the end, the developer was actually glad to have the theater off his hands. The paperwork had been a nightmare, and now Hanson Development was cash poor. With money from the sale they could start acquiring property for a new housing tract.

“We were about to be the bad guys,” the developer had told Dayne as they finished their meeting. “I couldn’t have asked for a better ending to the day.”

Now Dayne was beginning to dream up big plans for the buildings, ways for the adjacent spaces to house tenants and make money so that the theater could be self-sufficient. A fifties diner on one side and a coffee shop on the other, maybe. They would widen and pave the parking lot to connect all three sites, and by the time they were finished, the price would feel like a bargain.

Dayne hadn’t stopped dreaming about the project since the developer handed him the keys. He straightened and pulled them from his pocket. Keys were a funny thing; an entire world could be opened with the right one. He slid his fingers over the cool metal and was putting them back in his pocket when he heard a car pull up outside.

Normally, with the traffic from downtown, he wouldn’t have noticed. But today, everyone in Bloomington was home getting ready for Christmas, enjoying the snowstorm and making the most of a day inside. Everyone but the one person he couldn’t wait to see. Dayne sucked in a quick breath and stared at the back door of the theater, the one Katy always used.

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 you serious?”