Page 19 of Every Star that Shines

Delanie gave a small smile. “Did you just use a theatre metaphor?”

Cheryl chuckled. “Honey, I grew up at that theatre every bit as much as you did. Mom didn’t just direct the kids’ play, you know—she was involved in many other productions too. And that doesn’t even count the guest roles she sometimes took in other communities. It would be more surprising if it hadn’t rubbed off.”

Delanie laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

She hadn’t ever thought about how Nan’s love of the theatre had affected her own children. Cheryl had always put Delanie and Savannah in the play, of course—at least until Savannah reached high school and declared she no longer wanted to participate—but she hadn’t exactly encouraged Delanie’s acting dreams otherwise. Nor had she ever stood in the way—Delanie had to give her that. It was like Cheryl couldn’t care less either way. Maybe that’s what bothered Delanie the most.

“Anyway,” Delanie said, looking away, “I wish I shared your optimism, but people’s memories have gotten a whole lot longer since the Internet came around. Case in point—that video is already three years old, and they’re getting angry about it now. Even though my latest video actually supports their views.”

Cheryl waved her hand dismissively and went back to her task. “Three years is a drop in the bucket. Your life is still ahead of you. You’ve got lots of time. Three years from now, you’ll probably be in an even better position than you were two weeks ago before this hubbub started. You just never know.”

“Three years is a long time from where I’m sitting,” Delanie muttered. “Three years ago, I was playing a bit part in a production almost no one came to see that only ran for three weeks. This was my first big break.”

She’d had other roles, of course, but, for one reason or another, they never lasted long. Plays closed early. Pilots weren’t accepted. Doing a few commercials had kept her afloat, between that and her waitressing job, but just barely. That’s why Trueheart had been such a breakthrough. Until last week, she had hoped that three years from now, her agent would be renegotiating her contract to get her an even higher salary on what had become a hit show.

She sighed. At least Sandra had done her job. The agent had gone to bat for her with Crystal McLean, stepping in where Josh had been too cowardly to do so, but nothing had changed. And even Sandra had agreed that laying low for a while in Peace Crossing would be a good idea. Everyone’s pretty worked up right now, but I’ll talk to a few people and see what I can find out. In the meantime, maybe you should avoid posting any more videos.

That wouldn’t be a problem. In the aftermath of last week’s Twitter-storm, all of Delanie’s creativity had disappeared. And she couldn’t even bring herself to create an apology video—not when she didn’t believe she had done anything wrong. She wouldn’t grovel.

But she couldn’t completely ignore the desperation that clawed at her heart, trying to convince her that her acting career was over for good. And without acting, who was she?

Delanie picked up an antique hand mirror by its long brass handle, staring at herself in the reflection. The silver backing had started to flake away from the mirror, leaving the edges of her face obscured by dark spidery-looking lines. It felt like a fitting metaphor for her fracturing identity.

“Why didn’t you tell me Caleb and Monica had broken up?” she asked before she had even thought about it. Why was that still bothering her?

“I didn’t think you needed to know.” Cheryl’s tone was light, but she looked sideways at Delanie while she continued to fold. “Was I wrong?”

Delanie drew a breath. “No. Yes. I don’t know. What he does doesn’t matter to me anymore, I guess. It just would have been nice not to be caught off-guard.”

“You saw him?”

“Yeah, his daughter’s in the play.” She paused. “And he’s my new producer. Anne won’t be coming back this year.”

Erin had called that morning to tell her that Anne would be in the hospital for several weeks. She had broken several ribs and her leg, which was in traction. Erin had mentioned that the doctor said Anne was lucky to be alive, then she had muttered that the new bridge couldn’t be finished fast enough. Delanie agreed. The lone two-lane bridge that connected the two sides of town along the main highway route was one of the primary sources of traffic congestion and collisions in the small town and was long overdue for an upgrade. Unfortunately, while construction on a second bridge had finally begun the previous fall, it wasn’t scheduled to be finished for almost two more years.

Cheryl cast Delanie another sideways look. “You chose Caleb as your producer? Interesting.”

Something in her mother’s tone raised Delanie’s hackles. “Options were limited.”

Of the two people who had stepped forward, Violet had pushed Delanie toward choosing Caleb, mostly because of his more easy-going personality. Despite Delanie’s reasons to say no, she had agreed that his stable presence would be a good asset to the team, even if she had disagreed with Violet that Caleb always followed through on what he said he would do. He did for most things, she supposed—just not the one time it had mattered to her the most.

“I’m sure they were,” Cheryl said knowingly.

Delanie stood and rounded on her mother. “You can stop whatever train your thoughts just boarded before it pulls out of the station. Things are over between me and Caleb, and that’s not going to change. That’s why it doesn’t matter that you didn’t tell me he got divorced. I. Don’t. Care. His choices have nothing to do with me.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Cheryl’s amused expression faded, and she met Delanie’s gaze. “All teasing aside, I’m actually glad to hear you say that. After what Caleb did to you, and then leaving Monica in the lurch, I don’t think he’s the kind of man who is worth getting involved with. That’s the reason I never brought up their divorce. I was afraid you would get ideas.”

Delanie frowned. “He left Monica in the lurch? What, is he not paying child support?”

Cheryl shrugged airily, adding another blouse to the pile of women’s clothes. “Oh, I’m sure he does what he can. He has always taken his financial responsibilities very seriously—just look what he did for his father, taking over the farming until Marcus was recovered enough to do it on his own again. But who divorces a woman with a three-year-old? And after cheating on you to get her pregnant in the first place!”

“He technically didn’t have to cheat on me to do that,” Delanie offered. Though, thanks to her own feelings on the subject, her voice lacked conviction.

“He must have though.” Cheryl paused her folding, her knuckles white around the shoulders of a floral-print dress. “Otherwise, how could he have dated you for two years, and then the moment you leave town, that Fehr girl is just ‘suddenly’ knocked up?” She shook her head and resumed folding the garment. “I don’t care what Adelaide says. Caleb made his bed with that woman, and he should have lain in it.”

The note of finality in Cheryl’s voice indicated she had no more to say on the subject, and Delanie was glad to move on. Except her thoughts weren’t so congenial to the idea. From what she had seen of Caleb and Emma, he took his responsibilities as a dad pretty seriously too. And no one had mentioned a new woman in his life, so maybe he simply wasn’t good at romantic relationships. He had certainly made a mess of theirs. If she had stayed behind with him, maybe they would be divorced with a kid by now. There was no way to know.

Relationships ended for all kinds of reasons. People fell out of love. People weren’t who you thought they were. People couldn’t get along anymore. Or they moved away and moved on to bigger things.

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