Page 58 of Every Star that Shines

He raised his brows. “Yeah? Sounds like we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

He closed the door and went around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. He seemed tense, and there was something reserved about his manner.

Delanie bit her lip as she watched him climb behind the wheel, her stomach sinking. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t the only one with something important to say, but whatever was bothering him wasn’t going to be good news. Maybe he had decided that long distance wasn’t going to work after all. That Emma and his life here were too important for him to leave behind. Would this coffee date be their prom night all over again?

Her heart sped up with the revving of the engine. As he pulled out of her parents’ driveway and turned toward town, she drew a deep breath.

It could be nothing. But after all the good news she had just received, why did she feel like she should brace for the worst?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Caleb fidgeted with the paper Tim Hortons coffee cup on the table before him, listening to what Delanie was sharing about her new job prospects with a sinking heart. When she finished telling him about the email from Tessa Montague and the call from her agent, she smiled.

“So, what do you think?” She took a sip of her hot chocolate.

What do I think? I don’t want you to do any of that. I want you to say you’ll go wherever I go so I don’t have to decide between being near you and being near Emma.

He cleared his throat. “Those both sound like great opportunities. I can see why you’re so excited.”

“Yeeah . . .” She frowned at her red paper cup. “I guess I mean, which one do you think I should pursue?”

Caleb glanced through the window next to their booth. The sun had long set, but tall lampposts illuminated the parking lot, and their orange light gleamed off the few vehicles and the wet asphalt. A few small puddles from the light rain earlier in the day collected in the low spots, but offered him no wisdom. He turned back to Delanie.

“Do you have to choose between them? You don’t even know what Tessa wants yet. Maybe you can do both.” He sighed. “And I suppose if you have to leave early to start filming Trueheart, Amber and I can hold down the fort without you. And Anne Erickson is out of the hospital now. If we’re stuck on something, we could talk to her or Violet.”

“Leave early?” She swallowed. “I mean, I guess . . .” She chewed her thumbnail, her brow furrowed. “I suppose you could come out to Vancouver later on the weekend to meet me. But if I leave early, Marie wouldn’t come, and she wouldn’t get to see the kids in her costumes.” She sounded like she was thinking out loud.

“What weekend are you talking about?”

“Oh!” She focused on him. “It’s the annual Starlight Gala, a big shindig to fundraise for Vancouver’s homeless shelters, and I meant to ask if you would like to come. It’s next Saturday night. Black tie. Lots of important people.” She grinned slyly. “I have this great dress I think you’ll love.”

The thought of Delanie in an evening gown did sound appealing. But—

“Next Saturday night? During the performance weekend?”

“Yes. The announcement to honour Nan will be on Thursday night, and I’m planning to drive out on Friday with Marie. You could come with us. I think she’s gonna love you.” She smiled brightly.

“But we would miss four of the five performances.” He frowned. Emma would be devastated. “And what if something goes wrong while we’re gone?”

She sighed. “I’ll admit, the timing isn’t great. But once we get to opening night, our job is pretty much done—everyone knows what they’re supposed to do. The parent volunteers can run everything without us. For that matter, Amber could probably run it herself. She’s organized enough.” She pursed her lips. “It’s what she’s wanted all along anyway. Besides, you literally just said I could leave early to go back to work and it would be fine.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean . . .” He huffed in frustration, his gut a hard ball.

“What?” She leaned forward. “What didn’t you mean?”

He looked at his cup. “I didn’t mean I wanted you to.”

Her lips curved slightly and she placed her hand on his. “I don’t want to leave early either. But this is my chance. Going to that gala will show everyone in the industry that I didn’t just lay down and let the mob slay me, that I’m still standing strong on my own two feet.” She squeezed his hand. “And I want you to be there with me. I have a friend I’d like you to meet. He’s interested in your script, and—”

“What?” Caleb’s throat closed. He had sent Delanie his most recently finished script, an Indiana Jones-inspired action-adventure, in confidence. He had never meant for anyone else to see it. “Did you send that script to someone else? Without asking me?”

She stopped short, staring at him. “Yes. It’s really good, Caleb. I sent it to a director I know, someone I went to school with, and he loves it. I wanted to surprise you. I . . . I thought you’d be happy. This could be your chance to do what you always wanted to do—to start your career as a screenwriter.” Her eyes grew moist. “Are you mad at me?”

Seeing her on the verge of tears, he softened, ashamed that he’d let his anger get the better of him. And someone was actually interested in that script he’d only written to fill the long nights alone? Go figure.

“No, I’m not mad. I know you did it with the best of intentions. I just . . .” He ran his hand over his beard. “I’m not so sure that’s the life I want anymore, Delanie. I have Emma now, and there’s Dad and Mom and the farm to consider. There’s a lot of uncertainty in the arts, as you know. And I actually like my job.”

“You do?”

---