"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"This is Dr. Baxter from the hospital." It was a detail he didn't need to mention. His information would, of course, come up on the screen of the operator as soon as his call went through. But he was desperate, hoping maybe they'd come faster if they knew it was him. "My wife's collapsed; please.., please hurry."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Doctor." The woman's voice was familiar, probably someone he'd seen in the emergency room before. She sounded alarmed at the news. "We'll have someone there in five minutes."

He thought about waking the others or calling Brooke or Kari or Ashley. But he couldn't leave her side. Her arms were pale and clammy, same as her neck and chest. This time he got down low to her face. "Elizabeth, it's me... honey, wake up."

Still there was no response.

Sirens sounded in the distance, but the driver must've turned them off as he got closer to their house. He was at the door, ringing the bell, before John could get down the stairs. He flung open the door and pointed upstairs. "She's up there."

At the same time, the other bedroom doors flung open. 'Dad, what's happening?"

It was Erin, and she pulled a robe around her as she darted down the stairs.

"Your mother collapsed; I can't rouse her." He looked up and saw Luke in another doorway wearing sweats and a T-shirt. His 315.

mouth hung open, face pale from the sudden shock. "Please, one of you call the others. We can meet at the hospital."

"Dad... is she.. 2' Luke clearly couldn't bring himself to say the words.

John shook his head. No, she wasn't; she couldn't be. "She's breathing, Luke.

Maybe she just needs some fluids, but they have to take her in. Please... stay calm. We'll get through this, okay?"

"Okay." The old Luke would've gotten angry or shaken his head or stormed off, doubting God for not giving them the answer they wanted. But the look Luke had in his eyes now was that of a grown-up, a young man ready to face whatever the day held.

And John was fairly sure whatever it held, it wouldn't be good.

Dayne was on location in British Columbia when he got the call.

His pager had a distinct sound when the message was Dora his agent. It was Friday, and the director was blocking a scene that didn't involve him, so he waved at one of the assistants. "I've got a call; okay to take The woman nodded and signaled at him.

His playboy image was still intact, but only because he hadn't had the chance to prove otherwise. Sarah Whitley was on location with him but the two had kept their distance. Meanwhile, all Dayne wanted was to hear back from the private investigator. In some ways, his entire life felt like it was on hold while he waited.

He'd spent some time dating since he'd been filming in Canada, but very little.

The assistant director was hot for him; he could tell that much. But nothing interested him. He'd lived the wild li[e so long it had lost its appeal.

Beautiful Hollywood women all looked alike to him now, and he found himself looking at families who stopped by to watch the filming. Not people 316 R E U N 316.

in the business, but everyday families who had only stopped by out of curiosity to see what was happening.

Dayne would see a couple, hand in hand, with a few children gathered around them and he'd stare, wondering the same thing he'd wondered so often since meeting Luke Baxter. What would it have been like to grow up with brothers and sisters, to know the tangible presence of his parents day in, day out?

Funny, he would think as the family got bored and wandered off. He had everything the world considered important: money and fame and talent and looks.

But none of it would buy him the one thing he'd never really had.

A sense of belonging.

These thoughts flashed in his mind as he stepped off the set toward his trailer and called his agent. "Hey, it's me." Dayne turned to block out the noise. "What's up?"

"I heard back from the PI this morning."

Normally, nothing made Dayne anxious or nervous or surprised. But suddenly his palms were sweaty. He looked around and found a stump to sit down on. "Shoot."

"What was that kid's name, the one who worked at the law office in Manhattan?"

"Baxter." Dayne's heart rate tripled. In the distance, the director was barking at someone. He covered his other ear with his hand so he could hear better. "Luke Baxter."

"No wonder you hit it off with him."

The ground beneath Dayne's feet felt suddenly unstable. His head spun and he used a tighter grip on the phone so he wouldn't drop it. "What's that mean?"

"According to the investigator, your birth mother's name was Elizabeth, and about three months after you were born she married your father-a John Baxter.

John and Elizabeth went on to have five other children: Brooke, Kari, Ashley, Erin," he paused. "And Luke. Dayne, the guy's your brother."

Dayne couldn't talk, couldn't think. The woman in the photograph on Luke Baxter's desk was his birth mother? She really 317 3]7 k i n g s b u r y s m a I l e y was? The idea was crazy, insane. He'd dreamed tens of times that Luke's framed photographs were pictures he could share one day, a nice family, siblings who cared about each other, loving parents.

Everything he hadn't known before.

A single question worked its way past the shock. "Why? i: Why'd she give me up?"

"The records are pretty clear on that, too. Elizabeth and John met in Michigan, attending the U of M. I guess when she got pregnant, her parents sent her to a girls home in Indiana. They insisted she give you up or they wouldn't support her." The agent paused, and Dayne heard the sound of loose papers being shuffled. 'I guess she got smart at the girls home, because after they took you from her, she lived with her parents for less than a month before marrying John Baxter."

"What about Luke and the other kids?" He held his breath. He hated having to ask the next question. The answer could determine exactly what he would do from this point on. "Do they know about me?"

"Well-" more shuffling-"the PI talked with Some people at their church in Bloomington, Indiana, and apparently not. Everyone interviewed said John and Elizabeth had just five children. Churchgoers, pretty clean folks. Sounds like you were their one secret."

Anger stepped into the ring and threw punches with the other emotions fighting it out. "They never looked for me, never cared to find me?"

"Don't be too hard on them." His agent took a few seconds. "Back in the 1990s, they filed some papers with the court, trying to locate you, but the records were closed. It was a dead end." He was quiet for a beat. "And look where they wound up living, Dayne. Back in Indiana, where you were born. Makes me think they've always hoped they'd find you."

Dayne hung his head, trashed by the feelings in his heart. No wonder he and Luke Baxter looked alike. They Were biological 318.

REUNION.

brothers. The idea was more than he could grasp, sitting there on the outskirts of the shoot.

"Matthews!" It was the director, waving a rolled-up script and scowling at him.

"Off the phone; we have a movie to make!"

Dayne waved his hand, signaling that he'd be finished in a minute. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his agent's voice. 'Anything else, anything important?"

"Yes." The man's tone grew somber. "This is the worst part. Your birth mother is sick, Dayne. She has terminal cancer. She's in the hospital there in Bloomington. Her records show she doesn't have long; it could be anytime."

Dayne thanked the man, clicked the phone off, and stared at the ground. He hadn't come this far to miss his only chance to meet her. Maybe she hadn't told his siblings about him; maybe he would never tell them either. But he wanted the chance to see her, to look her in the face and tell her he'd turned out okay.

That the couple who had been his parents were nice people- misguided, maybe, but nice all the same.

"Matthews!" The director was heading his way, his steps long and angry. "What're you doing? This isn't break time."

"Sir." He let the cell phone drop to his side. "An emergency has come up; I need the weekend."

"Right now?"

Dayne doubled his determination. "Right now. I can be back Monday morning."

The director wasn't known for his compassion, but he mus've seen something in Dayne's eyes. He huffed and kicked up some dirt with the toe of his boot. "Go.

We'll work on some of the technical shoots." He started to turn away, but looked back again. "I hope everything turns out okay."

"Thanks." Dayne was already dialing the charterjet service he used. If he caught a flight this evening, he could probably fly straight to Bloomington. That way he could get to the hospital before lunch tomorrow. "Me, too."

319.

k i n g s b u r y s m a I I e y Elizabeth had no idea where she was or how long she'd been there. She opened her eyes and after what felt like several minutes, the shapes around her began making sense. She was lying in a bed, but it wasn't her own.

Something was different about her body.

She wasn't in pain the way she'd been before the wedding, and she wasn't pain-free the way she'd been during and afterwards. Her body felt like it was floating in some sort of half-asleep state, and she felt numb all over.

Her vision cleared a little more and she saw the IV bag hanging by the bed.

Suddenly alarm wrapped its arms around her. She was in the hospital! Something must've happened to her, but what? Her mind tried to drift back, tried to remember where she'd been last, but her memory wasn't working right. Thinking back felt like trying to grope her way through a cloud of fog. Hard work and nothing visible to grasp hold of.

She'd been at the wedding, right? memorizing every moment. And then she was at the reception, watching her children dance with their spouses, enjoying the babies in their car seats beside her, watching Cole and Maddie and Tommy and Jessie entertain everyone with their own version of the "Hokey Pokey." Hayley had also been by her side, cooing occasionally and pointing at the others.

And there were Ashley and Landon, young and in love, and Cole was dancing between them, running around the room shouting, "I have a daddy! Guess what? I have a daddy!"

And John was helping her to her feet so they could sway right there next to their table in the sweetest slow dance she'd ever had. And Kari and Ryan and Brooke and Peter and Erin and Sam and Luke and Reagan were all in a circle, holding hands and dancing the 'Twist and Shout" with Ashley and Landon in the middle.

Wasn't that just a few minutes ago?

320.

REUNION.

How had she gotten here? Elizabeth blinked and looked at her arms, her hands.

The IV was in the crook of her right arm, so she slipped her left forearm under her head and glanced around the room.

She was in the hospital, but where was everyone? Where was John?

She scanned her bed and a small table beside her and found a call button. Maybe someone could help her find them.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" The voice was tinny, not one she recog nized. "Are you awake?"

"I feel sort of funny." She smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I need water, I think."

"We'll get some water for you right away. Would you like to see your husband?"

"Is he here?"

"Yes." She paused. "You've been asleep for quite a while." Asleep? "How long?"

"You know, Elizabeth, I'm going to let your husband and the doctor explain things to you. They'll do a better job than I could Elizabeth stared at the plastic control. "Okay... I guess." She heard John in the hallway a few minutes later, his steps fast and anxious. She knew the sound of him, the way he sounded when he was in a hurry. He rushed inside, stopped, and met her eyes.

"Elizabeth." He was scared to death, his mouth open as if he wasn't sure if she was really there looking at him. "You've been .. you've been sleeping."

Her arms felt heavy and numb. "i think they've got me on drugs."

"Yes." His expression told her that was an understatement. few drugs."

She held out her hand. "I woke up..." Her eyes made another pass around the room. "I didn't know where I was or what had happened to me."

John came to her, cradling her arm against his waist, running 321 kingsbury smalley his fingers over her palm, the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. I was visiting with the others. Everyone's here; we've been waiting for you to wake up."

Her head hurt, and she couldn't concentrate the way she'd like to. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Since Tuesday morning."

"What time is it now?" Her words were slurred some. She hated the fact that she was on drugs without ever wanting them. "It's Friday afternoon."

It took a minute to sink in. Elizabeth calculated the days in her head and stared at him. "I've been sleeping for three days? straight?"

"Yes." John leaned over her and kissed her on the cheek, the lips. "Do you remember where you were when you collapsed?" She thought about that. "At the wedding?"

"No." He couldn't hide the concern in his face. "At home. We were heading for the bathroom, but you never made it. You passed out and, well, here you are."

Suddenly, as if the fog might be starting to lift, her situation became more clear. She was at the end stages of cancer, and this-this hospital stay might very well be the end. Fear wanted to say something to her, but she refused it.

Instead she looked out the window and whispered a quiet thanks to God. For letting her wake up, for letting her have this time with John and her family.

She turned to him and smiled. have something to give you."

He looked concerned again, as if maybe she was delusional. She did a soft, sick-sounding giggle. "It's in the nightstand beside my bed at home; it was a surprise."

"A surprise?" He was still leaning over her, bracing himself on his elbow. He searched her eyes. "What sort of surprise?"

"A letter." She tried to turn onto her side, but the effort was too much.

John hurried to help. He grabbed two extra pillows from a cupboard near the door and used them to prop her up. "Better?"

322.