Page 49 of Every Star that Shines

Cheryl released her husband’s waist and glanced at her phone as though it held the answer. “Well, I’ll have to check with my siblings, of course, but I can’t see any of them saying no. Murray said they thought they might do it after opening night of the play. Seems fitting, don’t you think, since that’s her birthday?”

Delanie’s chest expanded, and more joyful tears threatened. She drew a deep, happy breath. “I think it’s perfect.” And if her ducks would keep lining up in a lovely little row, it would only be one high of what promised to be a very exciting weekend. Her phone vibrated with an incoming text—Marie asking if her mom was okay. “Excuse me,” she said, retreating down the hall.

“Are you texting Caleb?” Adelaide called, her voice playful.

It had been impossible to keep their relationship status a secret, thanks to Emma, but Adelaide had given Delanie a warm hug and well-wishes when she had arrived today, reassuring her that she bore her no ill will for what had happened before.

Delanie’s own mother had been more reserved in her congratulations when she had heard the news. In fact, Cheryl probably would have objected, but Delanie, anticipating as much, led with the information that Caleb had definitely not cheated on her. Cheryl had made a surprised sound in her throat, and when Delanie had told her they were dating again, she had said nothing other than, “And are you happy?” To which Delanie had replied in the affirmative, and Cheryl had simply said, “Okay, then.”

Delanie supposed that was about as good as she could expect from her mother, even if she had hoped for more—like an apology. After all, Cheryl had been the one to plant the notion of Caleb’s cheating in the first place. But while Delanie was tempted to blame Cheryl for ten years of unnecessary pain, she had soon realized there wasn’t much point—she had been as quick to believe the worst of Caleb as her mother had, even though she should have known better. And whether Caleb cheated or not, his actions would have still hurt—actions which he had already apologized for. No sense beating a dead horse. Best to just move past it.

“No,” Delanie said to Adelaide, “my friend Marie. To let her know my mom’s okay. I didn’t know why you were screaming,” she explained to her mother, then hit send on the text.

She turned away to hide her embarrassment at Adelaide’s good-natured teasing. As though she and Caleb were teenagers who had never been in a relationship before.

In some ways, though, it did feel a bit like being teenagers again. Like she wasn’t quite sure what the rules were.

Bill shook his head and retreated down the hallway to return to his duties.

“But you’re coming to Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday, right?” Adelaide asked.

“Oh.” Delanie turned to face her again, uncertain how to respond. “Caleb mentioned it, but I, um . . .”

Cheryl’s expression filled with hurt shock. “I thought you told me you would be home for Thanksgiving dinner since the play rehearsal is on Monday. Savannah’s coming home on Saturday and everything.”

“No, of course I’ll be home,” Delanie assured her. She turned to Adelaide. “Sorry. Thanks so much for the invitation, but I should spend that time catching up with my sister. The funeral weekend was so rushed.”

Adelaide smiled. “I understand, and I’m sure Caleb will too. It would have been lovely to have you so you could reconnect with everyone though.”

Delanie thought of Caleb’s four siblings and their families all crammed into the dining room of the Toews farmhouse and cringed internally. What would they all have to say about her and Caleb’s restored connection? “Sorry. Another time, maybe.”

“Of course. There’s always Christmas. That might work out better—since Monica has Emma this weekend, she’ll get to be with us when you come.”

Delanie blinked. Christmas? She could barely think beyond the end of October. She’d been so caught up in the play, and in fixing things with her fans, and in trying to get back into the good graces of important people in the film industry in Vancouver that it had never occurred to her this thing with Caleb would mean deciding where to spend the holidays. For potentially every holiday for the rest of their lives. At this point, they weren’t even sure how they were going to make it work once she went home in a few weeks. And how was that fair to him? Or Emma? Or any of his family?

“O-of course,” she stammered with a stiff smile.

Cheryl gave Adelaide a sharp gaze. “Maybe Caleb should come to our place this weekend then. If Christmas is already spoken for, I mean.”

Adelaide pressed her lips together. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said slowly.

“Um, I’ll ask him.” Delanie looked between the two women, taking in Adelaide’s pensive expression and her mother’s victorious smile. Just what she needed—to be the cause for more tension between them. “I have to go get some more boxes for Dad to take on this load. Excuse me.”

With that, she fled back down to the basement. Sorting out Nan’s things had been a massive chore. But it suddenly looked like a cakewalk compared to sorting out the mess she had made of her love life—all because I jumped to conclusions. Even if those conclusions had been prompted by her mother’s overt suggestion in the first place. She thought of the hubbub around her Nathan Tait videos and chewed the inside of her lip. Just because she had made that mistake with Caleb didn’t mean she had been wrong about the actor. And even if she was, would that resolve the uproar her fans had created because of it?

She snorted. Hardly.

But still, something niggled inside her chest. What if she had been wrong? Even if she hadn’t been, what gave her the right to stand in judgement of him and his personal life? Could she truly claim to be so much better than Nathan after dumping Caleb and going off to Vancouver without a moment’s thought about the devastated boy she had left behind?

And what would happen when she had to leave Peace Crossing again? Would he come with her this time?

Will he choose me first?

She shook her head and wiped away another tear. How could she even think such a thing? He wouldn’t leave Emma, and she didn’t want him to. Which meant . . .

Which meant she would soon have a choice to make. Again. And what would she choose this time—love or her dreams?

Can’t I have both?

---