Page 89 of This Loving Feeling (Mirror Lake)

Sam smiled. “I’m really happy for you.” It wasn’t a lie. Someone should be happy around here, right?

“What about your second chance? With Lukas?”

“Didn’t work out,” she said. “But it’s okay.” She’d survive. With the help of her wonderful friends and family.

The overhead lights blinked a few times, signaling the crowd to take their seats. Sam started up the grand staircase, waving and chatting to everyone she knew before walking down the aisle to take her seat in the front row next to Brad. She could do this. For the next couple of hours she could smile and be social and brave. Yes, she could, even though it was exhausting, and as long as she blocked out every single thought of Lukas, because every time she let her thoughts drift in that direction, she got teary. Her speech faltered. And she fought the urge to run screaming down the aisle.

Yes, she might be borderline crazy. She just had to hold off tipping over the edge for another couple of hours.

As soon as she sat down, Olivia gave her a little wave from her seat on Brad’s other side, and Brad took her hand and gripped it tightly. “You look lovely tonight. I’m so proud of you.”

She shrugged, unable to speak.

She wanted to tell him so many things. Thank him for being here. For supplying all this food on a few days’ notice.

“Looks like you were right about Lukas after all,” she managed. “For all I fought you on it.”

He squeezed her hand. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. But I’m done interfering, Sam. Only you know what’s best for your own life.”

“Yeah, well, I did a great job of that, didn’t I?” The pull of success had taken Lukas away again, and it always would. He wasn’t the kind to settle down. She’d known it all along. She’d just hoped for a different ending.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Brad said.

The lights dimmed. Her beloved stars shone on the dome overhead, the wisps of clouds threaded through the softly twinkling lights. She couldn’t help but remember Lukas kissing her neck while she looked up at those stars, whispering sweet words to her ...

“May I have your attention,” Mayor Kline was saying. He welcomed everyone, told them how important the theater was to the community, and asked everyone to give generously to such a great cause. Sam had asked him to make the final plea for donations and not to recognize her. It wasn’t necessary, she’d said. But truthfully, she just didn’t have the heart.

Sam tilted up her chin and braced for the curtain to open. She realized her fists were clenched and she was holding her breath. Some stupid, naive part of her was still holding out hope that the curtain would open and there Lukas would be, his thick black hair shiny in the spotlight, his dark eyes and satiny voice telling her that he’d come back for her, that he’d do anything for her ...

The curtain rose. There, center stage, was a red-haired man with a guitar. The crowd screamed and applauded. She clapped and smiled, but disappointment crushed her. Not that she didn’t love Ed but he simply wasn’t Lukas. Well, of course he wasn’t! Lukas was in New York opening for the Stones. Far, far away from this ancient relic of a theater that wouldn’t ever have state-of-the-art sound and lighting unless the renovation got funded. Which was dubious at best, even with this benefit.

She turned to Brad. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Are you okay? Let me come with you.” Brad immediately started to get up, until he must’ve realized he really couldn’t accompany her to the bathroom. He turned to his wife. “Olivia, will you go with Sam to the bathroom?”

Sam held out a hand to stop them. “I just need some air. Do not follow me. I promise I’ll be all right.” She didn’t wait for his answer, instead she began gingerly climbing over people’s legs and purses. “Excuse me. Sorry, Mrs.Christopolous. Hi, Mr.Marks, Jeannie. Good to see you. Thanks for coming.” Then she was bolting down the long aisle. If she could just not cry long enough to hang a left into the hallway past the restrooms and out the back parking lot door into the fresh, cool night, she’d be all right. But she never made it to the back of the theater.

A lovely British voice rang through the theater loud and clear. “Is Samantha Rushford here?”

She froze in the middle of the gaudy carpet. Turned slowly toward the stage.Why was Ed Sheeran asking for her?

“I understand that Samantha is the head of the Palace Theater Restoration Committee, and if it weren’t for her, this event would never have happened. Let’s give Samantha a round of applause.”

A spotlight sought and found her. She had only seconds to wipe away what she could of the ghoulish mess that was her makeup. Plastering on a smile even as she felt her heart in her chest, heavy and full as a wet sponge, she waved to the packed crowd. Applause thundered around her. Whistles and whoops. Then suddenly everyone was standing, and the clapping kept going on and on and on.

“Would you come on up here, Samantha, and say a few words to your community, who clearly loves you so much.”

Sam looked at the faces of so many people she’d known most of her life. Even in her heartbreak, she was overwhelmed. They wanted the theater. They were glad she’d tried so hard to save it. They’d given their all to help her pull this off tonight. How would she have the heart to tell them she hadn’t succeeded? At least she could tell them how much she loved them all. For them she could be strong. Even without Lukas.

She’d been so frightened to let go of Harris. So afraid to be cut loose, adrift without him and the safety net he represented. But she knew the safety net was more like a fishnet she’d become bound by, and knew now that she hadn’t loved him, not the way you were supposed to. Not in a way that made your heart ache and your lungs hurt just from breathing when you thought of your entire life alone without the man you loved. Real love sucked in a way, didn’t it? Because it ripped your heart out without mercy and let it bleed all over the floor.

She saw her brothers looking at her, frowning, their dark brows knit low. Tom was already halfway down the aisle, and Ben was out of his seat. But she forced a smile and waved them back. She didn’t need their help. She could do this alone.

She walked onto her beloved stage. The Moorish castle façade was bathed in a soft glow on each side, the night sky peeking out between the columns and walls, and fake flower vines wrapped around the intricately carved columns. It was so realistic, she half expected to hear crickets chirping. She smiled widely and gave Ed a big hug. Someone handed her a microphone.

“I wanted to thank everyone for coming. The restoration committee has worked hard over these past two years to raise a lot of money to maintain our magnificent theater as a historic landmark that will be preserved for generations to come. My students made all the decorations tonight and served. Brad Rushford, the owner of Reflections, provided the appetizers, and Ted Lawrence, owner of Mona’s Bakery, provided the sweets. Ed, I wanted to thank you for coming to our little town and attracting such a large crowd tonight.”

She paused. She’d hoped to quietly fade into the background and go home as soon as the concert was over, and pray that other people felt the beauty of the theater and donated and that somehow they’d make the cut.

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