The Prodigal Comes Home (17 page)

“H
old still, Zoey, or I’m going to tie you to this chair.”

Brit, the makeup girl, attacked Zoey’s cheeks with a sable brush almost the size of Melissa’s feather duster. “Why so jittery? I heard that last night’s performance went great.”

Zoey closed her eyes as a cloud of beige face powder mushroomed into the air around them.

She wished she could shrug off her restlessness as stage fright. But Zoey knew that if she followed it to its source, she would find her feelings for Matt at the center.

Melissa breezed in. “My turn.”

“What do you think, Mel?” Brit eyed Zoey the way an artist would a painting that hadn’t turned out quite right. “I covered up the dark circles but I can’t seem to do anything about the lovesick, puppy dog look in her eyes.”

Zoey groaned. “Melissa.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Process of elimination,” Brit said. “If stage fright or a double shot of espresso didn’t put that look in your eyes, it has to be love.”

“Very funny.” Zoey slid off the chair and stripped off the towel that had been protecting her costume. She wore the same pair of faded blue jeans and tennis shoes she had been wearing the first time she’d met Matt.

“You’re thinking about him again.”

With a start, Zoey realized that Brit had left. Melissa stood near the door, arms folded over her chest.

“No.” It wasn’t a lie. Because the truth was, Zoey hadn’t
stopped
thinking about Matt.

There was a tap on the door. “Ready, Zoey?”

“Lead the way, Mike.”

Melissa reeled her in for a quick hug as she walked by. “Smile.” Her eyes matched the sequins in her dress for sparkle. “You’re about to meet your prince, remember?”

A smile tugged at Zoey’s lips. The last performance, her “prince” had been seventy-five years old and while they’d waltzed together, he’d whispered in Zoey’s ear that he was considered quite a catch in the senior apartment complex where he lived.

Because the play encouraged audience participation, ushers stood on either side of the stage with “cues” written on large pieces of tag board. Most parts were cast as people took their seats, but the important roles—Zoey’s “stepmother,” her two stepsisters and the prince—were often purchased in advance by people who wanted a friend or family member featured in a more prominent role.

Those characters were given a simple, one-page script attached to a clipboard. Part of Zoey’s job—and that of the cue card holders—was to generate laughter and make sure the characters said their lines at the right time. Fortunately, those two things usually went hand in hand.

Zoey took her place behind the heavy velvet curtain as the lights in the theatre dimmed. The hum of conversation and the clink of dishes subsided. The orchestra launched into “Until I Met You.”

It was the song Zoey had been practicing the day Gina Galway had shown up.

The day she’d realized that she was in love with Matt.

The usher chuckled when Matt showed him his ticket.

“Brit!” He waved to someone lurking in the shadows. “Here’s your guy.”

Before Matt could blink, a young woman appeared and whisked him behind the stage area down a narrow, dimly lit corridor, walking faster in stilettos than Matt could in his favorite pair of Nikes.

“Where are we going?” Matt looked around, hoping to get a glimpse of Zoey.

“Costume,” the mysterious woman named Brit said as she ushered him into a small room.

“Costume?”

“You’re Elliot Charming. Aka the prince.”

“I don’t think so.” Matt laughed.

Brit didn’t.

She pulled a black tuxedo jacket off a portable rack in the corner of the dressing room and held it up, silently measuring it against the width of Matt’s shoulders. “Gold crown in the corner of your ticket?”

“Yes.”

“The ticket is kind of a special one,”
he remembered Morgan saying.

Matt winced.

Thanks, guys.

“Then you’re it.
Him.
” Brit sounded way too cheerful as she pushed him down into a chair and turned to a tray of instruments that looked more intimidating than the ones Matt had seen in the dentist office.

In less than sixty seconds, he was back on his feet. And afraid to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“Listen—” Matt knew he sounded a little desperate. He’d been hoping to alert Zoey to his presence before the performance started, but a fender bender involving two minivans at an intersection had eaten up eleven minutes of the extra fifteen Kate had promised him. “I need to talk to Zoey Decker.”

Brit snapped her gum and held out the tux. “Put this on.”

“My name is Matt Wilde.” He wrangled one arm into the sleeve. “Can you at least tell her that I’m here?”

Brit adjusted the silk handkerchief in Matt’s pocket and gave him a gentle shove. “Honey, walk straight through that curtain and you can tell her yourself.”

There was no time to escape. A stagehand spotted Matt and waved him over.

“Here’s the prince.” The guy pressed a clipboard into his hands. “Don’t look so nervous. This is going to be easy. Walk across the stage toward the dark-haired girl—she’s your Cinderella, by the way—and read the first line of the script. We’ll take care of the rest.”

The words on the paper began to dance.

“Three, two…you’re on, Mr. Charming.”

Somehow, Matt got his legs to work.

Light applause and a few whistles drowned out the song she was singing as Matt stepped onto the stage.

According to the script, Zoey was supposed to tip over the bucket. That was Matt’s cue to say his line.

Matt looked down at the clipboard again.

PRINCE CHARMING: CAN I HELP YOU?

He should be able to handle that. He hoped. The closer he got to Zoey, the more uncertain he became.

Until this moment, Matt hadn’t realized that everything about Zoey had become imprinted on his heart. The cherry-cola curls that framed her delicate face. The sweep of dark lashes. The curve of her jaw…

Metallic-blue confetti from the overturned bucket next to Zoey fluttered toward his boots. His hiking boots. He was wearing a formal tux and
hiking boots.

If it didn’t involve breaking one of the ten commandments, Matt could have cheerfully killed Kate Nichols, along with the rest of the well-meaning kids in the youth group.

He cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

Zoey looked up and the smile died on her face.

According to the script, she was supposed to say ‘No, thank you.”

But she didn’t say anything.

Not a single word. She just stared up at him in disbelief.

“No, thank you.” Matt mouthed her line.

Zoey blinked. “What are you doing here?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw the guy holding the cue card shake his head.

This wasn’t good. He was supposed to be talking to Zoey over a cup of coffee in a quiet restaurant…
not
ruining her performance.

“NO, THANK YOU,” a stagehand whispered loudly.

Zoey rose to her feet. “No, thank you,” she repeated with a wide smile.

Relief poured through Matt. Until he glanced down and noticed the word SMILE in the script.

Then he saw the next line.

EXIT PRINCE.

Matt decided it would probably be a good idea.

Zoey wasn’t quite sure how, but she managed to make it through the performance.

Matt, who had looked as if he’d been struck dumb by the spotlight, discovered his inner fairy tale prince halfway through Act One. By the time Ella Cinders and Elliot Charming met again at the dance studio, Matt had the entire audience laughing uproariously every time he twitched an eyebrow or pretended to sneeze whenever Melissa pointed the feather duster at him.

The fact that he looked spectacular in a tux didn’t hurt, either.

In the final scene, Zoey came out wearing her ball gown. It was her favorite costume, a cloud of white satin, seed pearls and miles of delicate lace. The toes of her pink high tops peeked out beneath the hem.

When Matt’s eyes met hers, Zoey forgot her next line again. Their eyes met as he took her hand. But instead of going down on one knee and professing his undying love for her the way the prince was supposed to do, Matt drew her gently into his arms.

His hand traced the curve of Zoey’s jaw. She would have looked away but Matt’s fingers curved under her chin and he lifted her face. In the warm depths of his hazel eyes, Zoey saw her reflection. And something else, too. Something unexpected that weakened her knees.

Something that looked like…a promise.

Before Zoey had time to think—to tell herself that she was imagining things—Matt lowered his head and his lips touched hers in a tender, almost reverent kiss.

Zoey’s heart almost stopped beating.

“That’s not in the script,” she heard one of the extras muttered.

Zoey felt Matt smile.

And then he kissed her again.

Applause erupted from the audience, who obviously thought the show was over.

The stagehand standing in the wings tossed the cue cards into the air and walked away.

Matt’s breath stirred the curls near Zoey’s ear.

“If we leave right after the performance, we’ll be back in Mirror Lake by midnight.”

Zoey had a long car ride to think about that kiss.

As she followed Matt’s truck back to Mirror Lake, she felt a little like Ella Cinders, who had found love when she least expected it. With the kind of man she’d only dreamed of.

Except in Zoey’s dream, the man she’d dreamed of hadn’t been a pastor.

She still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. She and Matt hadn’t had a lot of time to talk after the performance, but he had explained that the youth group had bought the ticket for tonight’s performance.

“You’ve worked so hard to put this together. The kids want you to be there,” Matt had said. “And so do I.”

How could she say no?

As Zoey passed the Mirror Lake city limits sign, it seemed like months, rather than weeks, had passed since she’d first laid eyes on that sign and pulled over to the side of the road. And met Matt.

Everything had changed except the panic that pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe.

You’re going to have to help me, Lord.

As Zoey followed Matt through town, his truck slowed down to make a right turn onto Carriage Street.

At the end of the block, lights blazed from the windows in Gran’s house and Zoey saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked in the driveway. It was just after midnight and Liz never stayed up past the ten o’clock news.

Zoey wrenched the Jeep into park and opened the door. Matt was at her side the moment her feet hit the ground.

“I’m sure everything is fine or someone would have called,” he said reassuringly.

“If Gran
let
them call,” Zoey pointed out, remembering that Liz didn’t like to be, in her words, “a bother.”

“Gran?” Zoey felt Matt take her hand as she dashed inside.

“We’re in the parlor, sweetheart.” Liz’s lilting response made it a little easy to breathe.

“Who’s in the parlor with her?” she whispered.

“I have no idea,” Matt whispered back. “I didn’t recognize the car.”

Zoey sidestepped George as she entered the room and almost lost her balance. Matt reached out to steady her.

“Hello, Zoey.”

Zoey’s knees turned to liquid and she must have swayed because Matt’s grip on her hand tightened.

The man and woman who’d been sitting next to Gran on the sofa rose slowly to their feet.

“They just arrived an hour ago,” Liz said, her brown eyes beseeching as they met Zoey’s.

“We wanted to surprise you.” The woman took a hesitant step forward and then stopped, her eyes uncertain as they met Zoey’s.

“Paul and Sara, this is the pastor of my church.” Liz stood up, too. “Matthew, I’d like you to meet my son and his wife.”

Matt looked down at her, a question in his eyes.

Zoey nodded stiffly and tried to work up a smile.

“My parents.”

Z
oey skipped breakfast the next morning and slipped out of the house while everyone was still asleep. When she walked into the sanctuary, she found a whirlwind of activity instead of a quiet place to contemplate everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours—and to recover from the shock of seeing her parents again.

If it hadn’t been for the warmth of Matt’s hand, infusing her with strength, she would never have made it through the awkward silence that fell after the introductions.

Gran had come to the rescue, reminding everyone that it was late and how a good night’s sleep made a difference.

Zoey wasn’t sure what
kind
of difference her grandmother meant, but she took advantage of the suggestion. With a mumbled “goodnight,” she’d fled.

Matt must have sensed how close she was to falling apart because he didn’t try to stop her.

For the next hour, Zoey lay awake in bed, listening to the soft murmur of voices in the guest room next to hers. Her parents’ voices.

Zoey could only imagine why they were there. Were they worried about Liz? Had they found out that Zoey was staying there and decided to fly back from Africa to check on things?

That seemed to be the more likely reason for the surprise visit.

“Zoey!” Someone spotted her and all activity ceased.

For the next half hour, Zoey was mobbed. She admired the set. Listened to the opening notes of Trudy Kimball’s flute solo and wrote down the ingredients of a sore throat remedy for Morgan, who had strained her vocal cords while practicing at home the day before.

Haylie pulled Zoey aside when the others returned to their tasks.

“How are you doing?” Zoey asked, even though the girl’s bright expression provided a clue.

“Good.” Haylie grinned. “Now. We were all a little worried when we heard you had to leave.”

Zoey noticed Rob watching them. Haylie followed the direction of her gaze and turned pink. “We had a long talk.” Her voice dropped. “I told Rob what you said about not being able to change the past, but we both want our relationship to be…different. And you know what? Pastor Matt said the same thing you did. That God will help us.”

Haylie sounded a little amazed by that. To be honest, Zoey was often a little amazed by it, too.

Something else the girl said suddenly registered.

“Pastor Matt talked to Rob?”

“Uh-huh. He didn’t tell me everything they said because it’s
guy stuff.
” Haylie shook her head. “But whatever it was, Rob said that he wants to trust God with his future. And he doesn’t want to do anything to mess up His plans for me either.”

“Wow.” Zoey couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“That’s what I thought.” Haylie smiled. “They are going to meet for Bible study once a week. I was wondering if you and I…if you’d do that with me.”

Zoey sat down on the piano bench. How could she commit to meeting with the girl on a regular basis when she planned to leave Mirror Lake in a few days?

“We’ll talk later.” For now, it was the only promise she could make.

“Okay.” Haylie skipped toward Morgan. The two girls began to set up music stands together and it became obvious there was a friendship in the making.

Thank You, God.

Kate pressed a cup of coffee into her hand. “You look like you could use this.”

“Thanks.”

“For the coffee or for sending Matt to get you?” Kate’s shamrock eyes sparkled.

Until now, Zoey had had no idea that Kate masterminded the scheme. It shredded her theory that Matt and the cafe owner were interested in each other.

But then again, so had Matt’s kiss…

If Melissa were there, she would accuse Zoey of blushing again.

Kate cleared her throat and Zoey realized she was waiting for an answer.

“Right now, for the coffee,” she said. “I’ll let you know about the other one after the cantata tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be great.”

Zoey wished she could be sure. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d been concerned about how many people might
not
attend the service instead of the two she knew who would be there.

Her parents.

She continued to pray for wisdom, but Zoey still wasn’t sure what to do. Everyone assumed that her arrival meant she was still planning to direct the cantata, but Zoey couldn’t stop thinking about the terrible things Gina had said. The threats she’d made.

Was it fair to jeopardize Matt’s standing in the community? To undermine the respect his congregation had for him?

“Hey, you two!” Abby breezed up to them, a wicker basket tucked under her arm. “It looks beautiful in here.”

Kate leaned closer and sniffed the air. “Pecan pie?”

“I used your recipe.” Abby grinned. “I made two for the potluck dinner this evening.”

“I haven’t had time to make a thing yet,” Kate confessed. “It doesn’t start until six, right? That means I still have time.”

“So, where is the potluck?” Zoey asked.

Kate and Abby exchanged looks.

“Uh…
here,
” Kate finally said. “Because of the cantata, we don’t have a sunrise breakfast like a lot of churches—we host a potluck meal the night before. It’s an annual tradition.”

To Zoey, it was another obstacle in her path.

“No one mentioned it.” Not even Gran. But maybe like the others, her grandmother had assumed Zoey remembered the event.

“Emma and I are on the hostess committee, but we decided not to ask you to bring something because you’ve been busy enough with the music,” Abby explained. “There is usually a good turnout from the community.”

The innocent comment was another reminder that because of her, there might not be a good turnout from the community. Or from the rest of the church, for that matter.

“I’m sure you’ll have a good time,” Zoey murmured.

“You aren’t coming?”

And risk a scene with someone like Rose Williams or one of her friends? “I don’t think so.”

Kate frowned as if something else had occurred to her. “If no one mentioned the potluck, does that mean you didn’t hear about the special music?”

“Special music?” Zoey echoed.

“Every year someone performs a piece from the cantata. You know, kind of a sneak peak before the service tomorrow morning.”

Zoey stifled a groan. “No one mentioned that either.”

“Maybe Delia is taking care of it,” Kate said.

Zoey hoped so. Gran could have taken it upon herself to assign Delia or one of the other choir members to take care of that particular detail. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“In person, right?” Kate wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t let a few people and their opinions keep you from doing what you’re meant to do,” Kate said softly.

Which meant she’d heard the rumors, too. Zoey shouldn’t have been surprised.

“We’re supposed to let our light shine, not hide it.” Abby reached out and gave Zoey’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Zoey knew the verse in the New Testament that her friend was referring to. But what if letting her light shine ended up casting a shadow over Matt?

Was it still the right thing to do? That’s what she wasn’t sure of. “Hey, Zoey!” Zach Davis jogged up to them. “We need you.”

The next hour passed quickly, and Kate decided the volunteers needed some sustenance. She took the choir members and the youth group down to the fellowship room to distribute cold drinks and snacks. Zoey stayed behind to finish the decorating.

The delicate scent of lilies hung in the air as she picked up a purple cloth to drape over the cross on the wall behind the altar.

“Let me help you.” Sara Decker picked up the other end.

Zoey’s father stood behind her.

Zoey swallowed the lump in her throat. Her father looked different. Streaks of silver shot through his dark hair and the African sun had turned his skin to bronze. But physical changes weren’t the only ones that Zoey noticed. There was something in his eyes she didn’t remember. A softness that hadn’t been there before.

“We’d both like to help,” Paul Decker’s smooth baritone washed over her. “Your grandmother told us that you’re directing the Easter cantata tomorrow.”

The only thing Zoey could manage was a nod.

As if she couldn’t help herself, her mother reached out and brushed a stray curl off Zoey’s cheek. Zoey resisted the urge to lean into the touch.

“Gran must be so excited you’re here.” She strove to make her voice sound normal. “She said it’s been a few years since you’ve been back to the States.”

Her parents exchanged a glance.

When Zoey looked at her father, she was stunned to see tears in his eyes.

“That’s true, honey,” he said in a low voice. “But we came back to see
you.
”

Zoey stared at him, speechless.

“Ten years is too long, Zoey,” Sara said in a voice that shook with emotion.

“We thought we were doing the right thing by leaving you in Mirror Lake with your grandparents.” Paul’s eyes, the same of gray as Zoey’s, took on a diamond-bright shine. “Your mother and I love you. And we hope that you can forgive us. We made a mistake.”

It was the first time she had ever seen him cry.

Ten years
was
too long. And Zoey knew that she’d made a mistake, too, when she’d separated herself from the people that loved her.

“I do forgive you.” Zoey took a step forward, straight into her father’s arms. “But you have to forgive me, too.”