Can't Let You Go (5 page)

“When do your parents leave for Haiti?” Frances asked.

“Monday. I miss them already.”

“I wish James could perform my ceremony.”

I bit my lip on further helpful comments. We chatted and planned for another two hours, then I hugged the future Mrs. Benson and walked to my car.

“Thanks for flying in for my wedding, Katie,” Frances said as she stood by my Toyota. “It means a lot to me that you’d come in for a long visit.”

“Oh, I’m not here to visit.” I settled in behind the wheel. “I’m here to stay.”

*

All the marriage
talk had left me more than a little depressed. Frances was getting married, fully stepping into the adult world. And where was I? In some alternate universe, caught between the college years and whatever came next.

My car seemed to have a mind of its own, and before I knew it, I was on Maple Street, pulling into the parking lot of the Valiant Theater. Between college and church, I had gotten to travel abroad in the last five or six years—France, Ireland, London. I had seen the Eiffel Tower at sunset, sitting on a blanket with a crusty loaf of bread and a chilled bottle of wine. I had done mission work in the wet, raw wilds of a Panamanian rain forest. I had stood on a bridge overlooking the Thames, as well as watched the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.

But no place was as lovely to me as the Valiant Theater.

James and Millie had purchased the 1930s remnant, lovingly restoring it ’til it was a reborn architectural masterpiece. The crown jewel of In Between, the Valiant was the place where I had first given my heart away, finding my soul and purpose on the wooden planks of the stage. The theater had a history, every inch of it holding a story. My own tale was within these walls.

As I opened the doors, the familiar smell greeted me. Popcorn, wood polish, and a magical scent that slipped from the dressing rooms, swirled around the spotlights, and flew in the air with all the boldness that accompanied hopes, dreams, and what-ifs.

It was easy to believe anything was possible here.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for these old, tired eyes.”

Sam Dayberry, caretaker of the Valiant, and my grandmother’s sainted husband, intercepted me in the lobby, arms outstretched, smile wide.

“Hi, Sam.” I hugged him tight, grinning at his ever-present ball cap and overalls. Happy that some things, at least, would never change.

He held me at arm’s length and gave my face a grandfatherly inspection. “I wanted to come with the others to Houston, but some stuff came up and someone had to stay here. Prayed like crazy for you.”

“I know you did.”

“That’s quite a bruise you got going there.”

“Just a little bump on the head.” I glanced at a production poster hanging on the wall behind him. “
Sound of Music
, huh? Pretty ambitious. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be.” He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Our Captain Von Trapp towers at five-foot-three, and Maria sings like a howling coyote.”

“Save me a front row seat.”

He chuckled, the lines around his eyes a gathering of creases and folds. “Your grandma sure is glad to have her little buddy back. How long are you staying?”

“Oh, probably indefinitely.”

Sam blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going back to London.”

“Well, of course you are. You’re the pride of this family. The pride of this town.”

I laughed at the ridiculousness of the very thought. “This town needs to raise the bar a bit. It was time to come back home. The theater life was nice for a while, but I can’t live like that forever.”

“What are you going to do?”

Wasn’t that just the question of the moment. “Not sure. Kind of limited with a drama degree. I was hoping the manager job was still an option here.” In fact, I was counting on it.

“Delores still says she’s retiring in six months,” Sam said. “You know your parents would give you that job in a heartbeat. Well, that is if the theater’s—” Sam startled at the beeping of his phone. “Drat. Five minutes late for lunch, and that woman’s sending me snippy texts.” He slipped the phone back in his overall pocket. “I better get home. I promised Maxine I’d take her to a nice lunch.”

“The Burger Barn?”

He nodded. “Your grandma wants a triple scoop.” His worn, strong hands cupped my shoulders in gentle pats. “No matter what you decide, we’re all proud of you, dear.”

With a final hug for Sam, I flung open the doors and stepped into the theater. Following the carpeted runner, I walked the slight decline, my breath easing the closer I got to that stage.

And by the time I laid down on the old, restored wood floor, staring up at the lights, I almost felt like my old self. Lights hummed above me, the cool of the stage seeped into my palms, and I closed my eyes and just slowly inhaled.

“Hello, Parker.”

My eyes popped open as Charlie Benson stood at the foot of the stage.

“I thought I might find you here.” His rascal grin still devastated, sending a sonar ping straight to my lost heart. He wore a white button down, pressed khakis, and hair that was almost in need of a trim. Almost.

“Come on up,” I said.

And he did. In seconds, he settled in beside me, his shoulder pressed to mine. I tried to focus on the dreamy scent of my theater and not Charlie’s cologne that promised manly things I’d absolutely sworn off.

We stayed that way for a while, just lying on the stage floor, our breaths eventually synchronizing, our thoughts going in their own directions.

“What are you doing here?” My hushed voice broke the lengthy silence.

“I came to see you.” He turned his face toward mine, and our lips were so close, if I just leaned in the slightest—

“I’m not going to fall for you again, Charlie.” I didn’t know if I said this for him—or for me.

His smile lit those pretty gray eyes. “I used to find you here just like this when we were in high school. I always knew it meant you had something big to work out.” He ran his finger down my temple and across my cheek. “You want to talk about it?”

I sighed, the sound coming from the pit of my stomach and echoing in the space. “I thought I had it all figured out. I was one of the lucky ones. I knew who I was, and I certainly knew who I wanted to be. And everything just magically fell into place. It was just this big confirmation that I was on the right track.”

“Who says you were wrong?”

“I can’t go back to London. I don’t think I can ever get on the stage again.”

“I’ve seen you in action. You were born for this.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it was just a season.”

“I don’t believe that. You know what I do believe in?” His pinkie latched onto mine. “You.”

Lightning zinged from the top of my head straight to my toes.

Dear Lord, I was just like my bio-mother. She fell in love weekly with a different man. I would not be her. I was not going to be that stupid.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” I said. If mistakes were raindrops, I’d flood this whole town.

“Was declaring your never-ending love for me at twenty-thousand feet one of them?”

“I didn’t mean it.”

He smiled. “No?”

“I thought we were about to die.”

“So the deal is null and void in the event of our unfortunate survival?”

“I was overtaken by adrenaline.”

“Not crashing can really mess things up.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

His eyes darkened and he stilled. “I find myself very serious when it comes to you, Parker.”

I ran my hand over my face, regretting my bandage, my lack of makeup. “My life’s a mess, Charlie. You do not want to get mixed up in that.”

“None of us have uncomplicated lives. Maybe I want to be mixed up in yours.”

“No.”

He squeezed my hand. “How messy are we talking?”

“More than my usual fare. I’ve stepped it up in my adult years.”

“Katie?” Charlie turned on his side, leaning over me. “You said you loved me.”

So I had. But I could not have meant it. I couldn’t have. “I meant that in a universal way. Not romantic at all.” My gosh, his eyes were hypnotic.

Charlie thought about this. “So if the guy in the next aisle had been sitting by you—the four-hundred pound man with excessive body hair—”

“The really sweaty one?”

“If he would’ve been sitting next to you, then you would’ve declared your undying love to him?”

“Everyone needs a solid send-off to glory.”

Charlie smiled. “You’re lying.”

“A side-hug at the very least.”

Charlie just watched me for a moment. A handful of painfully long seconds. “We need to discuss this,” he said at last.

I sat up, needing some distance between me and the invisible lasso Charlie seemed to be whirling in my general direction. “You and I are long over. You’ve moved on. I’ve moved on.”

He rose to his feet, held out his hand, then pulled me up. My body collided with his. “What I recall moving,” he said, “was your lips on mine.”

“I’ve already forgotten it. You should too.”

His head dipped, his gaze hot on mine. “I don’t want to.”

“Charlie.”

His thumb traced across my cheek. “Stop talking.”

“I’m a mess.”

He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Be my mess.”

And I was lost.

Later I would blame my concussion. The mystical energy of the theater. The weird cheesy substance Millie fed me for lunch.

But now?

Now I just leaned into Charlie Benson, wrapped my arms around his back, and pretended like I wasn’t making another giant mistake.

“I
have to
stop kissing Charlie Benson.”

Maxine did a whiplash double-take in the passenger side of my Corolla, flung off her Hollywood sunglasses, then pointed her red-nailed finger right at me. “I knew it! I knew you’d never gotten that boy out of your system.” She fanned herself with both hands. “Who could blame you? You have quite the history, and he is a dish.”

“I’m through with men.”

After a sleepless night, tossing and turning with thoughts of Charlie Benson, London, and Ian the Loser Ex, I woke up this morning, determined to get at least a temporary job until I figured out my career plan. Maxine’s friend Loretta owned Micky’s Diner, and they were looking for a waitress. I had zero experience with waiting tables, but in last year’s summer touring production, I had been a serial-killing drag queen, and I’d had no experience with that line of work either. Minus a few sprained ankles and one glitter eye shadow incident, that had turned out okay. I’d just
act
like a waitress.

“When have you been kissing Charlie?”

On a plane. On a stage. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to happen again. I have a life to figure out.”

“Making out is much more fun.”

“Guys are stupid.”

“But necessary.” She slid her big, black sunglasses back on her face. “How did this Ian break your heart?”

I turned the car left onto Maple Street. “He just wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“That happened to me once. Harvey Dillerbink.” She flipped down the visor and used the mirror to apply glossy pink lipstick. “Said it wasn’t a toupee, but these fingers know the difference between real hair and a synthetic mop.”

“Our stories are so similar, it’s eerie.”

She blotted her lips on a tissue. “I hear that sass. You wait ’til you’re fifty like me. Men come up with all new ways to be Satan’s ambassadors of deceit.”

The gravel crunched beneath the tires of the car as I pulled into the parking lot of Micky’s Diner. It was an aqua blue stucco with a flashing neon sign, promising the best cup of coffee in town. It sat three driveways down from the Valiant, and I had spent many a morning in the vinyl-covered booths eating hotcakes and bacon with James. Initially it had been forced together-time between a foster dad and his rebellious young charge. But James never gave up on me, feeding me pancakes and conversation until one Saturday I put my fork down and looked across the table at the man who was no longer my guardian, but my father.

A bell clanged as we walked inside, and we weaved through the tables of hungry In Between locals to find an empty table. I peeled open a menu that was sticky with years of syrup drips, and let the din of cafe chatter lull me away from my relentless thoughts.