Lois Richer - Heaven's Kiss

“Well, maybe we can arrange—” Gray McGonigle’s hand on her arm stopped Dani midsentence. “Oh, hi, Gray. Did you want to talk to me?”

“Yes. Now. Please.”

Dani stepped aside to let the others pass, stared at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, half-afraid to hear the answer.

“Dani, I’m not trying to run the show or anything, believe me. I only want the best for this dinner theater, just as you do. So trust me when I ask you to keep Dr. Lucas Lawrence away from any and all construction. No saws, no nails, no hammers.” He winced. “Particularly no hammers.”

Dani frowned at the intensity underlying his words. “May I ask you why?”

“You know that house we rent out?”

She nodded.

“Last week Luc moved in. The other day he decided to hang a picture.”

Dani shrugged, impatient to get on with the job. “So what?”

“Three hundred and forty-two dollars and seventy-eight cents, so far. That’s what.”

“Three hundred—” She stared. “How?”

“Looking for a stud, he said.” Gray shuddered. “Made a hole in the drywall, knocked over a floor lamp, which tipped and went through the picture window.”

The giggle just would not be denied. Dani slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it. “Oh dear.”

“Easy for you to say. I was fool enough to accept his offer to help me fix things.” He held up one hand with a thick bandage around his thumb. “Luc Lawrence is a great doctor and I like him very much, but he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn door with a sledgehammer. I sure don’t want him touching anything in here.” His eyes rested on the beautiful oak panels the deacons had just ordered installed at the front of the church. “Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do. Leave it to me, Gray. I’ll think of something.” Dani giggled again before patting his arm. “Poor thing. Maybe you should ask Marissa to kiss your boo-boo better. That seems to work well for your son.”

Ignoring his pained look, she turned and walked back into the hall, aware that Gray followed just a few steps behind. She couldn’t look at him for fear she’d start laughing, so she focused on the doctor. He looked worried. Why was that?

“All right, everyone, let’s start reading.”

The actors scrambled to find their copies and get into character. Everyone except Lucas Lawrence. He stood where he was and glared at her. Miss Winifred perched on the first chair in the first row, arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed. Dani took a deep breath and walked forward.

“What’s the matter now?” she asked, keeping her voice soft so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Luc is being obstreperous.”

“I am not.” He tipped back on his heels, his face rigidly composed. “We’d be wise to look at all the angles. I have a valid concern.”

Dani looked to Winifred, found no help there. She sighed. “Which is?”

“I’m a temporary doctor in this town. What if I leave before the dinner theater is held?”

She frowned. He was too calm. Dani squinted, assessing him. Her daddy would have said the man squirmed just a bit too much.

“Are you planning on leaving Blessing soon, Doc?” she asked.

“No, he’s not.” Winifred shook her head.

“How do you know what I’m planning?”

“I just do.”

Luc frowned at her. “Well, you don’t know about this.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Miss Blessing swung her foot back and forth, her mouth tipped into a triumphant smile as she winked at Dani. “Otherwise, why did he invite his sister to visit him here at Christmas?”

“Of all the nerve—” He cut off his tirade, fumed silently.

Miss Blessing smiled innocently. “I didn’t deliberately listen in on your conversation, Lucas, but you were standing in my bakery when you said it.”

Defeat dragged his shoulders down. Dani suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him. They had bulldozed over his objections. Still, he would be good, she just knew it. All he had to do was try.

“Give it a shot,” she encouraged. “Just one read-through. Please?”

“You don’t understand.” He turned his back on Miss Blessing, dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Stage fright. I stand up in front of a crowd and my mind goes totally blank.” He shook his head, his thin cheeks flushed. “Speeches, stories, poems—doesn’t matter how well I know them, I simply can’t repeat them in front of a bunch of people. My jaw locks up, my heart starts thudding and I can’t get a word out. I’ve struggled with it for years. As an actor, I’m the bottom of the barrel. Choose someone else. Please?”

“There is no one else, Luc. Just you. Please don’t give up.” Dani offered a smile to bolster his courage, certain it must have been hard for him, a competent doctor, to admit this flaw. “I’ll help. I’m a pretty good director.” I think.

“You’ll need to be.” Seeing the expectant faces around him, Luc sighed, then nodded. “Oh, all right. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he whispered.

“I won’t.”

He lifted his lips in a sickly smile and followed her directions, moving to a seat in the front row. He picked up a copy of the play and read his part. As one of many among the cast, he seemed to lose his nervousness, his confidence growing as he continued through to the end of the play. Dani wondered if he’d been teasing about the stage fright.

“This is very good. Who wrote it?” He turned the sheets over, searching for the author.

Dani smiled, but ignored the question. “I’m glad you like it. I think you’ll make a great inspector.”

Her decision was echoed by the other players, spirits rejuvenated now that someone had finally been found who could read the lines with impact.

“If no one objects, I suggest the part of Inspector Merrihew be assigned to Dr. Luc. What do you think?”

Heads nodded in agreement all around the room.

Big Ed’s beefy fist shot up as he began to speak, his excitement obvious. “The boy’s perfect for that part. No denying that. Has that accent down pat. I never could get the hang of that.”

Dani nodded, delighted with the cowboy’s easy acceptance of Luc.

“Great. It’s unanimous. Now, Inspector, do you want to try the part on stage?”

“I—I guess.”

But he didn’t, she could see that in the hunted look in his eyes. Try, she begged silently. Just try.

“‘Gertrude Mortimer baked the best chocolate cake anyone had ever tasted.’ Now you say it.”

He stood at center stage, stared at her. Dani repeated the phrase.

“Gertrude Chocolate mortimered anyone…” He stopped, gulped.

The others chuckled in sympathy.

“You’ll get it. Just keep trying,” the crowd encouraged.

But Luc didn’t get it. Half an hour later Dani dismissed the rest of the cast and watched them scurry away, undoubtedly grateful they didn’t have to endure any more of his line-mangling.

“It was distracting with the others here,” she excused as the door banged shut for the tenth time. “Way too noisy. We’ll practice one-on-one. Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s try it down here.”

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He sighed, took the stairs two at a time and flopped down beside her. This time the words emerged perfectly. But as soon as they returned to the stage to practice their movements with the lines, he tightened up, forgot what he was doing.

By ten-thirty Dani was ready to phone Big Ed and beg him to take over. Unfortunately Winifred Blessing didn’t know the meaning of the word defeat.

“Tiredness, that’s all it is. Simply too weary. Everyone’s had a long, busy day. So many things to do.” She cluck-clucked her sympathy, patting Luc’s shoulder as if he were four. “Try again when you’re fresh, dear. You too, Dani.”