Page 75 of Every Star that Shines

Delanie looked around. The only place to sit was the rather uncomfortable-looking wide wooden step directly below the ladder. The first strains of the opening number filtered down through the open square in the ceiling that led to the booth above. Luc’s face became visible through the opening as he leaned over to look through it. When he saw her there, he grinned and gave her two thumbs up, mouthing, The soundboard is awesome. She gave him the A-okay sign, knowing better than to say anything, which would be heard in the hall beyond. He disappeared again.

Bracing her back against the counter, she used her hands to help her hop onto it. The sharp corner at the front edge bit into her thighs through her thin pants.

She grimaced. She never thought she would actually miss the stack of chairs in the storage closet. But in two hours, this would all be so, so worth it.

She hoped. If Caleb was as forgiving as her mother expected him to be.

As the final soaring strains of the finale filled the hall, Caleb had to admit that, as kids’ productions went, this was one of the better ones he had seen. Which was saying a lot, because Molly and her team had worked wonders in previous years. He might be a little biased, what with his daughter being one of the principal cast and with how involved he had been. And because of Delanie.

The thought left him with a sweet-and-sour flavour on his tongue that had nothing to do with the sour peaches he’d been snacking on since intermission. He watched each successive round of bows, which started with the choruses of townsfolk, magical critters, and donkeys, then proceeded to the supporting cast characters, and then the principals. Finally, Emma emerged from the wings as Lucy and joined Ethan White as Pinocchio at centre stage back. She took his hand before they skipped to the front and made their bows, both of them grinning ear to ear. Caleb stood, redoubling his clapping and shouting bravos, determined that his little girl would be able to hear him above every other voice in the hall. Lastly came Stella and Geppetto—Ainsley and Joe—bringing everyone still sitting to their feet. Caleb’s chest almost burst with pride.

“Your daughter is very good,” said Marie’s smooth voice in his ear. “She’s talented for someone so young.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said with a smile.

The cast members lining the front of the stage leaned down toward Violet and the musicians with extended arms, and Violet turned to bow on the orchestra’s behalf, eliciting another burst of volume from the clapping audience.

On his other side, his mother squeezed his arm. “I can’t believe it! She was wonderful!”

“I can,” Caleb said, chuckling.

Marcus leaned over Adelaide. “Is it over already?” he asked dryly.

Caleb restrained the urge to shake his head. Theatre wasn’t his dad’s cup of coffee.

“Not quite, Dad. They have Molly’s announcement to make.”

“Oh, right, right.”

As if on queue, Amber came out onstage holding two wireless microphones and stood beaming as Murray Jones—a tall, angular man with his brown hair combed over his balding spot and a hitch in his step that made him resemble a stork as he walked—made his way from the side section up the stairs at stage left to join her. As he did, the crowd reseated themselves, obviously noticing the festivities were not quite at an end. As Caleb sat, he noticed Desmond glancing furtively sideways at him, then quickly away when he saw Caleb looking. What an odd guy. Caleb shook his head and turned his attention to the front.

When the noise in the hall had settled down, Murray squinted into the glare of the spotlight and raised the microphone to his mouth.

“I think that may be one of the best children’s productions I’ve ever seen in this hall. The actors, the musicians, the parent volunteers—all of you outdid yourselves. Molly would have been so proud.”

Murray’s words were met with another burst of applause. Caleb felt an uncharacteristic lump of emotion in his throat. He wished Delanie could be here to see this. The regret twisted to bitter sadness. She had made her choice . . . and, it turned out, she wasn’t the person he had hoped she was. He was just going to have to accept that.

“And, speaking of Molly Davis,” Murray continued, “most of you will have heard of her unfortunate passing less than two months ago. This was the final production she had any part in. And, it so happens, today would have been her eightieth birthday, or so I’ve been told.”

More applause, though it was more subdued. Murray smiled and waited for it to subside, then continued.

“So I think it’s fitting that we take a moment tonight to recognize her amazing contribution to the arts in this community. She served in many capacities in local theatre and in the performing arts community in Alberta over the past fifty-plus years, but most memorably, she has long directed this annual production with love, patience, and skill. Many of the adult actors who grace this stage throughout the year, myself included, owe much of our passion for theatre to the enthusiasm she instilled in us.”

Caleb smiled, remembering Molly’s contribution to his own formative years. No, he hadn’t ended up pursuing the arts, but he would always look back fondly on his time in the play.

“I could go on and on about Molly’s virtues,” Murray said, “but somehow, I think that role is better suited to someone who knew her even better than I did. I’d like to invite Ms. Fletcher to the stage to say a few words.”

Murray glanced up the aisle toward the back entrance of the hall as a spotlight swung up the aisle. Caleb clapped along with the rest of the audience and rotated in his seat, expecting to see Cheryl making her way toward the stage.

Instead, Delanie was walking carefully down the aisle toward the front.

And Caleb’s heart forgot how to beat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Delanie looked like a million—no, a billion bucks. As she passed Caleb, she found his gaze and held it. He almost got out of his seat to follow her, to demand to know what she was doing here and why she hadn’t called to tell him she was coming—but the fact that he’d received no warning made the reason painfully clear. He sank into his seat, his chest filled with lead, ignoring the glances of his family and Delanie’s two friends. If he weren’t stuck in the middle of a row, he would have excused himself and rushed outside to get some air, but he didn’t want to make a scene.

If I can just get through the next few minutes, I can leave. Maybe I won’t even have to talk to her.

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