His family, the Baxters, were nice people. He could tell that 350 REUNION.

much after an hour with Elizabeth. He wouldn't subject them to the type of scrutiny he would bring into their lives. No, they'd gone all their lives not knowing about him; they would never know the difference.

He gave a final look at the photographer, climbed into his SUV, and drove off.

This time he did a little fancy driving and lost the guy. It didn't matter now; he had no more reason to hide. Still, he didn't want the jerk having the satisfaction of taking any more pictures.

Dayne studied the area around him. He'd turned into an older part of town.

Probably closer to the university. Since it was Sat urday evening, the little shops and businesses were closed.

Everything in him wanted to turn around and find Elizabeth Baxter again, wait for the others to come, and then figure out a way to make a place among them.

Even after all these years. The visit had been amazing, much better than he'd ever dreamed. But every detail was pressing near the surface of his heart, ready to burst through and overtake him with emotion.

She hadn't recognized him; that was the best part. She didn't know he was Dayne Matthews the movie star. Only that he was Dayne, her son. The one she'd spent a lifetime thinking about and wondering about and never quite forgetting.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel of the Tahoe and kept driving. There would be time to remember his visit later on the plane. For now he wanted to soak in all he could about Bloomington.

This would've been his hometown if she'd been allowed to keep him, if he'd grown up the oldest Baxter son. He took his time, looking down the side streets and imagining. It was small and fresh and nothing at all like Manhattan or Hollywood. The kind of town where a kid could play football and race his sisters to the local park. A place where families would share Sunday picnics and spend a lifetime believing that life really was some thing out of Mayberry R.F.D.

He kept driving until he spotted a crowded parking lot ahead.

351.

kingsbury smalley Though the rest of the area looked shut down for the night, in front of him was a large, ornate structure. A church maybe, or an arts building.

Dayne leaned forward and squinted. A marquis in front of the building read "Academy of the Arts." Beneath that it said "CKT Presents Charlie Brown." A list of dates and times followed. Dayne pulled oer. He checked his watch; the final performance was tonight at six o'clock. It would be almost over, but still he wanted to go inside.

Community theater.., in Bloomington, Indiana.

Acting didn't get much more small-town than that. He parked, donned the baseball cap, hunched his sweatshirt around his neck, and headed for the front door. A ticket table was just inside, but no one was manning it. He walked past, slipped into the dark theater, and took a seat in the back row.

Positioned across the stage was a group of clean-cut kids dressed in Peanuts costumes and singing. Some were holding hands. The song was vaguely familiar, something he'd heard back in boarding school, maybe. It was a song about happiness and being together with people you cared about.

"Happiness is... three kinds of ice cream...'"

This was what drama was about, wasn't it? Not the wild, Hol lywood life; not waking up in bed with your leading lady won dering how either of you got there; not hiding from the public and deranged photographers; and not making millions of dollars for a single film.

How real was any of that?

The song continued. " 'Happiness is... having a sister...'" Having a sister?

He thought of the women he'd seen in the parking lot earlier. He would never know that feeling. He brought his hands to gether and remembered how it had felt. Holding hands with his birth mother, knowing that she had loved him all her life. That she had wanted to keep him and even now, on her deathbed, her one regret was giving him up.

352.

REUNION.

The song was ending, the kids were singing, "'Happiness is... coming home again.'"

Dayne felt his eyes grow wet and he cursed himself. He'd cried more today than in all his life combined. The scene onstage ended and after a few more minutes the play came to a close. At that point the entire cast filled the stage, took a bow, and began shouting, "Jamie... Jamie... Jamie..."

The houselights came on and Dayne kept his face hidden by the bill of his cap.

The kids onstage were relentless, grinning and waving and shouting at this Jamie person, whoever that was.

After a few minutes, a young woman sprinted down the side aisle and up the stairs onto the stage. The kids in costume circled her, jumping up and down and calling her name. Finally, when they settled back to their places, she motioned for them to quiet down, and they did.

When she faced the audience, Dayne felt his breath catch in his throat. She was gorgeous. Fresh-faced with layered blonde hair and blue eyes that shone even from where he was sitting.

"Hi, everyone." She waved and shaded her eyes, trying to see the audience past the bright lights. "I'm Jamie Hart, director of Christian Kids Theater. Let's hear it for the kids who made our first show such a success!"

The crowd clapped wildly, bigger than Dayne had heard crowds clap at the Academy Awards. They rose to their feet and clapped some more untilJamie motioned for them to sit down.

Dayne couldn't take his eyes off her. She was maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven, with the sort of beauty Hollywood had forgotten about. If she wore makeup, it wasn't much. She had on jeans, a silky pale blue blouse, and a black fitted blazer. But nothing about her shape or her looks compared with the glow on her face.

Jamie Hart loved what she was doing. That much was obvious.

She was about kids and acting and making magic happen on the stage. No multimega contracts, no autograph seekers, no 353.

kingsbu ry smalle y fame or fortune. Community theater.., teaching kids about acting, and that was enough.

It hit him then, exactly what he was looking at.

If he'd been raised in the Baxter family, he might've been working right alongside her. Maybe they would be friends or lovers. Maybe she would've become his wife. His heart fell strange, as vast and empty as the Grand Canyon. Yes, perhaps this would've been his life, the one he would've lived if Elizabeth's parents hadn't sent her away when she came home preg nant.

He'd been robbed of a normal lifestyle, a loving family, brother and four sisters, and nob, this. Tim chance at a norma life with a beautiful girl who would never see her name in lights a life that certainly would've filled the emptiness inside him.

As he slipped out of the theater, as he made his way back to the rented SUV and headed for the freeway, he remembered, something Elizabeth had said: "Find your faith, Dayne ... find your faith."

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Why bother God-if there was a God-had left him out of the life he would've loved. He'd been given a window to all he might' had, but no door to get to it. And God had allowed it to happen.

Elizabeth was wrong. He didn't need faith; he needed a family And one dayeven if it took a decade to figure it out-he would find them again and tell them who he was. One day when he was washed up in the business, when the paparazzi no longer cared about who he was or what business he might have in Bloomington, Indiana.

Until then, he would work and carry on the best he knew how. Carried by the memories of his family as they walked toward him in the hospital parking lot; his birth mother holding him in her arms, telling him she had never stopped thinking about him, never stopped loving him.

And the memory of a small-town girl r named Jamie Hart, who represented everything he had missed of t on along the way.

354.

REUNION.

Jamie saw him from the stage, saw him sitting in the back row watching the last part of the show. This was closing night of their first play, and the guests in attendance were family members and friends of the theater troupe.

Strangers stood out, especially strangers who showed up near the end of the play and left after ten minutes.

The strike party was about to begin. Jamie had a dozen kids tugging on her, asking her questions about the awards and the strikes-silly spoofs on the play that the kids wanted to perform. Tim, the teenager who had played Charlie Brown, brought his guitar for the event. He was going to lead them in a few worship songs before they got started with the silliness of the evening.

But Jamie couldn't get the stranger from the back row out of her head.

She'd seen him somewhere before, but where? Was he an uncle, maybe? Someone affiliated with the Arts Center or the university? She was about to forget the whole thing, when Rhonda- the dance instructor-came running up.

"Can you believe it? Did you see him?"

Jamie searched her friend's face. "Who?"

'Dayne Matthews!" Rhonda took hold of her shoulders. "He was here; I promise!"

She pointed to the back row. "He sat right there for ten minutes and watched the end of the play."

Dayne Matthews? The famous actor? The Hollywood playboy who had dated almost every one of his leading ladies? No wonder he looked familiar. But the guy couldn't have been Dayne Matthews. "It wasn't him." She turned and headed back to the stage.

Rhonda stayed close by her side. "It was. Bethany followed him out when he left.

She called his name and he turned around." Rhonda did a few jumps and a bell kick. "Dayne Matthews came and saw our play,! Who'd have thought?"

355.

kingsbury smalley Jamie was needed onstage. She held up her hand, stopping further conversation about famous actors coming into the Bloomington community theater building. Tim was already onstage with his guitar, warmed up and ready to sing.

The group of parents and kids involved in CKT was amazing. Dozens of families who had come together to help get the theater troupe off the ground, and who were thrilled that their children had a chance to explore the arts in a Christian environment. Jamie had never felt more full in all her life.

People took their seats, and a silence fell over them. Tim-a talented fifteen-year-old with a gift for leadership and a heart for God-led them in prayer. "Lord, thank you for letting us finish our first show. Thank you for Jamie and for a Christian theater group in Bloomington .... " He kept on, praying about the performance and asking that it might have been a light to the community.

But as he prayed, Jamie began her own private conversation with God. Lord...

Dayne Matthews? Here in Bloomington? If it was him, God, then maybe you brought him by for a reason. Let him find that reason, God. And bring him back if you can use o,r group to touch him.

A gentle breeze stirred in her soul.

Daughter, you will see him again. I know the plans I have for him and your place in those plans.

The response rippled through her, making her tremble inside Once in a while when she prayed, she could feel God answer practically hear his voice. But this time the answer was more specific, as if maybe God really had a plan to bring Daym Matbews back to their theater.

The idea was crazy, but the things of God often were.

She let the thought pass and tuned back in to Tim's prayer. "And so, God, bless Jamie and CKT and everything about our group. And most of all make your purpose known to all of us in volved. Especially Jamie. In Jesus' name, amen."

356.

John had taken the call while they were all still at the Baxter house. Elizabeth wasn't feeling well; her vitals weren't as strong as they'd been earlier. He told the kids, and the group gave hurried instructions to the babysitters and left.

Now they were back at the hospital, and Elizabeth was barely conscious.

Dr. Steinman met them in the hallway and pulled John aside. "It could be anytime John." He shook his head. "She was doing well an hour ago, when Luke was in with her, but she's taken a turn for the worse."

"Luke?" John glanced at his kids and their spouses, standing a ways from him.

"Luke was with us for the past two hours."

Dr. Steinman made a face. "That's strange. The nurse said Luke was sitting by her side for the past hour." He lifted one shoulder. "Anyway, the point is she's getting worse." He hesitated. "I don't think she'll make it through the night."

The truth suffocated John like a plastic bag. He had so much left to tell her, so much more to talk about. Everything about the moment felt stilted and robotic, as if his body knew how to go through the motions, even if his heart didn't.

He pulled his kids together-all five of them and their spouses-and one at a time he met their eyes. "Your mother is leaving us." Tears came, but his voice stayed steady, on some type of autopilot,John hadn't known he possessed.

"You mean now?" The question came from Luke, and even before John could answer, his son was taking steps toward Elizabeth's room.

"Yes." John held out his arms, and all of them formed a group hug. "Dr. Steinman says it could be tonight."

It was time for goodbyes, and John organized it as best he could. "I'll sit on the far side of her bed, and each of you take a turn visiting with her. One couple at a time, okay?"

There were tears and quiet nods of approval. The kids clung 357 to their spouses as John entered the room first. Elizabeth's mouth was open. Her chest rose several inches with each inhalation, proof that her lungs were filling up, that death was at hand.

Elizabeth." He took her fingers in his and searched her face. 'We're here, honey."

She opened her eyes, and after a few seconds recognition filled her face.

"John... you came."

The kids want to talk to you, okay?"

He released her hand, circled around the bed, and took hold of her other arm.

Brooke and Peter were the first in. Peter said hello and then stood back while Brooke took her place near Elizabeth.

"Mom... I love you."

Brooke." Elizabeth's face was pale, but she had her wils about her. Her words came slowly, with much effort. "Don't be sad. We'll all be together again. The greatest reunion of all, okay?"

"I'm going to miss you so much. Hayley's going to miss you; you always take such good care of her."

I'll never stop praying for her." A smile ragged at Elizabeth's eyes. "I have a feeling.., she's going to be okay."

Brooke nodded, too choked up to speak.

'You're a wonderful mother, Brooke. I know... I know you doubted that after Hayley's accident. But don't." She coughed, but the effort was so weak it barely made a sound.

Mom..." Brooke hugged her, placed her cheek against Elizabeth's.

John wiped at his eyes and memorized the scene.

"I love you, Brooke." Elizabeth's words were muffled because of their embrace.

"You'll never know how much you taught me."

Brooke said goodbye, stood, and touched Elizabeth's cheek once more. Then she turned and fell against Peter. He led her from the room, and after a few seconds, Erin and Sam entered the room.