Page 10 of Every Star that Shines

Sighing, she left the bathroom.

When she got back to the landing that would lead her either down the stairs or into the auditorium, she hesitated, staring at the open door into the theatre. Filled with a strange trepidation, she crept through it onto the small landing. The narrow landing’s far side was bounded by a partial wall which was still taller than she was, topped with a rail, beyond which sat the last row of seats of the auditorium’s centre section. Steps ascended off of either side of the landing to the auditorium’s two aisles. Taking the left set of steps, she held her breath as the dimly lit hall came into view.

The hall was both smaller and more impressive than she remembered. Now that she’d seen more of the world, she sometimes found it hard to believe that little Peace Crossing had such a great community theatre. The room’s dark decor gave it a sombre atmosphere, even with the lights on. Delanie fixed her gaze on the stage. The heavy black velvet curtains had been pulled wide open, and the lights shining down on the painted black stage floor revealed scuffs all over it—repainting the stage would be one of the last things done before the performance weekend. She could almost see Nan standing before the stage, organizing kids and volunteers in her firm but kind way, turning their raw energy into a top-calibre production that would be packed out for every performance.

It wasn’t until Delanie was halfway down the aisle that she noticed the little dark-haired girl sitting on the left side only a few steps away. The child’s head was bent over a sketchbook, and with another step, Delanie spotted a decent drawing of a unicorn’s purple head with a spiral horn coloured like a rainbow.

“That’s pretty good,” she said.

The girl’s head snapped up. When she saw Delanie, she grinned. “Thanks! My dad says if I keep practising my art, I could be an animator someday, and make movies and everything.”

“Wow, your dad must be pretty special.”

Her own dad hadn’t been nearly so supportive of her larger-than-life dreams. More supportive than her mom, whose response when Delanie had announced her intention to enter film school had been to leave pamphlets for Grande Prairie Regional College on her bed with the education and drama programs circled, subtly reinforcing Cheryl’s you need a career to fall back on mantra. But when Delanie came home to visit, even Bill still looked at her with quiet worry in his eyes—even if he had also driven her and all her stuff to Vancouver when she’d moved.

Delanie squatted next to the girl. “That’s a pretty bracelet. Did you make that too?”

The girl looked at the pink-and-purple friendship bracelet on her wrist and shook her head. “My friend Addison gave that to me today, but my mom’s going to show me how to make them. Then I can make one for my cousin Hannah and one for my little sister.”

“I remember making those when I was your age. What’s your sister’s name?”

“I don’t know yet. My mom just found out she’s pregnant.” The girl got a thoughtful look. “I suppose it could be a boy. He probably wouldn’t want a friendship bracelet.” A dejected look came over her face.

“You never know. I have a friend named Desmond who would probably wear one. Especially if his sister gave it to him.”

“Really?” The girl’s joy returned, shining from big brown eyes with full lashes set in a dimpled face. She was about the most adorable thing ever. “That’s awesome.”

“I’m Delanie. What’s your name?”

“Emma.”

“And why are you here all alone, Emma?”

“Oh, I’m not alone. My dad is backstage working on the sets. But guess what? I get to be Lucy in the play!”

Delanie frowned. “Lucy?” She knew the play was an adaptation of The Adventures of Pinocchio, but she hadn’t read the script yet and had no idea who the characters were.

“Yeah. You know, the Talking Cricket? Her full name is Lucetta, but she hates it when people call her that.”

Delanie chuckled. Emma’s energy and enthusiasm were contagious. And the trucks outside suddenly made sense. They probably belonged to the Butler brothers. Violet had mentioned her son Noel was building sets for the play, and he had probably conscripted his brother and business partner Derrick into helping. Thinking of the two brown-skinned boys she had gone to school with, Delanie wondered which one of them this little cutie belonged to. Emma didn’t much resemble either of them. Her mom must be as fair-skinned as Violet.

“You are going to be a great Lucy.” Delanie grinned at the little girl.

“Thanks!” Emma looked curious. “Were you ever in the play?”

“As a matter of fact, I was. I started when I was about your age. But I didn’t get any speaking roles until I was much older.”

“Yeah, Daddy says most kids don’t. But they needed someone little for Lucy, I guess, and I’m great at memorizing things. I already have my song memorized, even.”

Delanie chuckled. “I bet you do.” Tired of squatting, Delanie stood and stretched to work out some of the travel kinks. “That’s an important skill in theatre . . .”

She froze.

Caleb Toews stood at the bottom of the aisle, staring back at her with his mouth slightly agape. He hardly looked different than the last time she’d seen him—the large-check plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up was blue instead of red, and his dark-wash blue jeans still hugged a slim, athletic frame. He now wore his dark brown hair short, she noticed, so she couldn’t see the waves, and his chin was covered with dark stubble. The good looks he’d had when they had dated in high school had matured into a rustic, casual magnetism he still seemed completely unaware of, but which made Delanie’s mouth go dry.

Her stomach did a weird flip. She tried to think of something cool and intelligent to say, but what came out was a choked, “Hi.”

The word seemed to break his trance. He walked up the aisle toward her, turning his attention to the little girl.

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