Page 35 of Every Star that Shines

Noel gave a hearty laugh. “And you’re doing what right now?” He raised his brows.

“Touché.” Caleb chuckled, then sank the screw into the wood. “In my defense, carpentry is my hobby, not my job. And my daughter’s actually in the play. Weren’t you working on the church roof next door all day?”

“I see your point.” Noel extended his measuring tape further and made another mark on his piece of wood. “But I don’t think Derrick’s worried about what he’s missing. Who has time for a night life, anyway?”

“Certainly not you until we get these sets and props all made,” Caleb teased. “Much to the chagrin of every blushing beauty in town.” He lined up the third brace to be attached.

Noel rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, the streets out there are lined with blushing beauties pining away for me. It’s tough being such a hot commodity. Why do you think I’m hiding in here?”

Caleb laughed and let it go. Noel had always been a bit obtuse when it came to attentions from women. Caleb could think of a handful of girls off the top of his head who may not be pining exactly, but who would be interested in his friend if Noel asked. But he knew Noel would just laugh it off if Caleb brought them up, so he kept his counsel to himself and got his screw gun in position.

Noel took his piece of wood over to the table saw. “But enough about my prospects, or lack thereof. What has it been like being around Delanie so much?”

Caleb froze, then sank another screw. He supposed it had only been a matter of time before Noel asked. Noel had known them both in high school, and he had stood by Caleb all through his troubled marriage with and amicable divorce from Monica. Few people knew Caleb better.

“It’s been fine. Why?”

Noel paused, turning an arched eyebrow in Caleb’s direction. “Uh-huh.” He turned on the saw, put his shop glasses in place, and started zipping off pieces of wood for the bars.

Noel’s question pressed against Caleb’s shoulders, as well as the lie he’d given in response. By the time the noise of the saw had faded, Caleb had finished with all three braces, and they now angled into the air from the upside-down set piece like Roman spears waiting for a cavalry attack. He turned to Noel.

“It’s been hard. Is that what you wanted to hear? Every time I see her or talk to her, all I can think about is how different my life would be if I hadn’t stayed behind in Peace Crossing after high school.”

Noel paused, piercing Caleb with his dark-eyed gaze. “Then you wouldn’t have Emma.”

“I know.” Caleb leaned back against the worktable. “And I can never regret that. But is it weird to wish you could keep some parts of your past, and that you could have done some other parts completely differently, even if the two are mutually exclusive?”

Caleb ran his hand through his hair and hung it on his neck by the fingers, staring through the floor at an image of Delanie as he had seen her last—patiently working through scene beats with Ainsley Crawford on Wednesday night. Delanie had been in her element, and the sparkle in her eyes had almost broken his resolve to keep his distance from her. She’d been magnificent.

Noel chuckled, a deep baritone rumble. “Naw, I think that’s human nature. Maybe that’s why God didn’t give us the ability to time travel. If we screwed up our lives that badly the first time, how much of a mess would me make if we went back and tried to only fix the parts we didn’t like?”

“You have a point there.” Caleb snorted. “I suppose that’s why he gives us second chances, huh?”

Noel’s mouth quirked. “Is that what you’re hoping for with Delanie? A second chance?”

“I can hope all I want. Doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.” He turned and heaved the workbench off the table and took it over to the plywood on the floor, propping the assembly in place near the pencilled-in guideline on the painted set piece. “Help me out with this, would you?”

Noel came over and crouched on the other side of the workbench, holding it in place on the plywood backdrop while Caleb pulled a few screws out of his pocket and stuck the pointy ends between his lips to hold them. He lined up the bench to its marked place on the wall, using a square to make sure the workbench was perpendicular to the plywood. Then he began screwing the support underneath the back of the workbench into the painted wood.

“So, does that mean she shot you down already?” Noel asked casually.

The screws between Caleb’s lips gave him an excuse not to answer right away. When he had finished with the last one, he fished a few more from his pocket for the loose ends of the braces and grunted, “Not in so many words.”

After three more screws had been employed, he sat back on his haunches to inspect his work. Noel let go of the now firmly attached workbench.

“What does that mean?”

Caleb met his eye. “She made it plain she’s not interested. I think she’s holding some kind of grudge for how things went down between us. And, frankly, I can’t say that I blame her.”

When he had gotten off the phone with her on Tuesday, he’d berated himself for being so confrontational about her recent video. The last thing she needed was for someone to kick her while she was down—and the comments sections of both Nathan Tait videos had been full of enough vitriol to last anyone a lifetime. But he couldn’t lie, and she had asked him outright for his opinion. Of course, he also hadn’t told her the whole truth—that in the words of her song mocking the actor’s mistakes, all he could hear was how she felt about his own. Yes, she had broken up with him, but she’d made it clear she thought she was doing him a favour, giving him time to focus on his dad’s health and on taking care of the farm. And that she would be happy to pick up where they had left off when he eventually followed her out to Vancouver.

Only, he never had. The truth was, they had both made mistakes. And while the rejection and heartbreak that had led to his own mistake with Monica had faded over time, Delanie’s video made him wonder if she had also been wounded by the fallout.

He had thought about bringing up what had happened between them, about apologizing that he hadn’t kept to his part of the plan, but there didn’t seem to be much point. It was all water under the bridge, and there was no undoing the past.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t wish the river had taken him in a different direction.

“So you’re not even going to give it a try?” Noel said casually as he collected his cut pieces of wood and took them to his work area. “You could ask her for coffee. You two are already working together on the play. It’s a built-in excuse.”

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