Page 26 of Every Star that Shines

With a polite smile, she walked out the glass door, the bell jangling as she left.

He sighed and got up to go, carrying his dirty dishes to the bus bin near the door on his way out.

Too bad it wasn’t as easy to be rid of the remains of his past with Delanie.

CHAPTER NINE

Delanie sat on her bed and turned another page in Nan’s binder, scanning the neat handwriting for ideas—anything to get rid of the rumbling unease in her belly. After supper with her parents, she had declined her dad’s invitation to watch Jeopardy, instead retreating to her room to go over the plan for the next night’s rehearsal.

In the last hour and a half, she had already listened to the demo soundtrack twice, and now knew most of the songs by heart. She had read the script three times in the last three days. She had made a schedule of acting exercises she could use with the kids for the next six weeks, and was certain she could recognize each member of the main cast by name—their own as well as their character’s.

Still, she couldn’t evade the overwhelming sense of foreboding that hung over her head. That no matter what she did or how prepared she was, this production was doomed to epic failure because she was the one running it.

Volunteering to direct this play was simply another foolish thing she had done before thinking it through. Like her decision to leave Peace Crossing to chase a carrot that turned out to be as insubstantial as air. Caleb’s words from that afternoon about having too many responsibilities to chase after dreams dug into her. She had been angry at him for staying behind for so long that she had failed to recognize what she had given up by leaving. Time with Nan. Time with her parents. Stability. Romance?

The look he had given her when she’d thanked him for rescuing her flashed unbidden to her mind, and the warm feeling that had curled through her at the time along with it. He didn’t still have feelings for her, did he? Not after all this time. If he had cared for her at all, how could he have done what he did with Monica? And why hadn’t he reached out to her after the two of them had split up?

And where was the familiar righteous anger that would let her brush that warm feeling and all these annoying questions aside? She tried to summon it, but it shrivelled under the memory of him encouraging her to keep chasing her dream. Why did he have to be so supportive and amazing after all this time?

Whether she deserved it or not.

She wiped away a tear just as her phone chimed—the same sound of chimes the read-along audiobook versions of her favourite fairy tales had used when she was a child to let her know it was time to turn the page. It was a text from Amber.

Alexander will have mock-ups by end of week.

Great. Thank you, Delanie texted back at the same time as Amber’s next text came in.

Luc says we have a problem. The soundboard is dead. Will need to get it replaced.

Delanie blinked at the phone and swiped the remaining moisture off her cheek. That was unfortunate, but hardly surprising. Murray Jones, the president of the Peace Valley Community Theatre Society, had mentioned the aging wiring and sound system at the theatre when she had spoken to him. He said they had been fundraising for it, but the project was going to be fairly expensive, and they didn’t yet have the money to tackle it. Delanie sighed.

I’ll talk to Murray about it. She hoped they could figure something out before the performance. They could hardly put on a play if no one could hear the actors. She bit her nail, thinking, then added, Thank you for all you’re doing to help me.

It’s for Celeste, came the almost-immediate response.

Delanie blinked at the phone, wanting to type back a reply that was just as terse and blunt. Instead, she opened up her conversation with Marie.

What have I done? I think I’m in over my head.

A few seconds later, her phone chimed with her friend’s response. Wanna video chat?

Sure. Give me two minutes.

Delanie got off the bed and hurriedly checked her appearance in the mirror of the white dresser. The typical red splotches that covered her face when she cried were barely present.

Before she turned away, a strip of photographs stuck into the edge of the frame caught her attention—her and Stephanie Neufeld at a photo booth in West Edmonton Mall, taken on a tenth-grade school field trip. Stephanie had been one of her best friends in high school, but after Delanie had left, they had drifted apart. Delanie ignored a twinge of guilt—Stephanie had tried to keep in touch. It was Delanie who had been too busy to respond to texts or emails and had never called to get together during her rushed trips to town. I guess I have time now. She made a mental note to contact Stephanie soon.

Looking at her reflection, she wiped the last of the moisture from her eyes, smoothed back her hair toward her ponytail, and then settled herself on the bed with her laptop on her thighs, the chaos of her planning still around her.

A few seconds later, Marie’s gorgeous, perfectly made-up face popped onto her screen. Behind Marie, the dining room pendant light was reflected in the night-dark glass patio doors.

“Desmond just texted, so I sent him a link to join too,” she said. “I hope that’s okay.”

Delanie nodded, warmth filling her. Desmond texted Marie? “You bet it’s okay. I miss you guys. Have you been talking to Des much while I’m gone?” Despite the crush she was pretty sure Desmond harboured for Marie, Delanie knew that without her there, the two of them had few reasons to connect in person. If Desmond had sent Marie a text, maybe he had finally made his move.

Or maybe they were simply discussing how to get Delanie to smarten up and fix her wreck of a life.

Marie shrugged. “Once in a while. We went out for burgers last night.”

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