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best friend about Ian. “Ian cheated on me, and I broke up with him. That’s pretty much all there is to it. I thought I knew him, but I found out I didn’t.”
    “I’m sorry Ian broke your heart. And if I didn’t have a quickie wedding to plan, I’d hop on a plane and punch him in the man parts.”
    I’d already done that, but it was nice to hear.
    “You’ll find love,” Frances said like an age-old sage who had it all figured out. “And when you do, it will make every old hurt fade away. One day you won’t even think about Ian.”
    Funny, I seemed to already have arrived at the point of forgetting Ian. Maybe it was the hard bump to the head. But all I could think about was Charlie.
    “When do your parents leave for Haiti?” Frances asked.
    “Monday. I miss them already.”
    “I wish James could perform my ceremony.”
    I bit my lip on further helpful comments. We chatted and planned for another two hours, then I hugged the future Mrs. Benson and walked to my car.
    “Thanks for flying in for my wedding, Katie,” Frances said as she stood by my Toyota. “It means a lot to me that you’d come in for a long visit.”
    “Oh, I’m not here to visit.” I settled in behind the wheel. “I’m here to stay.”
    *
    All the marriage talk had left me more than a little depressed. Frances was getting married, fully stepping into the adult world. And where was I? In some alternate universe, caught between the college years and whatever came next.
    My car seemed to have a mind of its own, and before I knew it, I was on Maple Street, pulling into the parking lot of the Valiant Theater. Between college and church, I had gotten to travel abroad in the last five or six years—France, Ireland, London. I had seen the Eiffel Tower at sunset, sitting on a blanket with a crusty loaf of bread and a chilled bottle of wine. I had done mission work in the wet, raw wilds of a Panamanian rain forest. I had stood on a bridge overlooking the Thames, as well as watched the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.
    But no place was as lovely to me as the Valiant Theater.
    James and Millie had purchased the 1930s remnant, lovingly restoring it ’til it was a reborn architectural masterpiece. The crown jewel of In Between, the Valiant was the place where I had first given my heart away, finding my soul and purpose on the wooden planks of the stage. The theater had a history, every inch of it holding a story. My own tale was within these walls.
    As I opened the doors, the familiar smell greeted me. Popcorn, wood polish, and a magical scent that slipped from the dressing rooms, swirled around the spotlights, and flew in the air with all the boldness that accompanied hopes, dreams, and what-ifs.
    It was easy to believe anything was possible here.
    “Well, aren’t you a sight for these old, tired eyes.”
    Sam Dayberry, caretaker of the Valiant, and my grandmother’s sainted husband, intercepted me in the lobby, arms outstretched, smile wide.
    “Hi, Sam.” I hugged him tight, grinning at his ever-present ball cap and overalls. Happy that some things, at least, would never change.
    He held me at arm’s length and gave my face a grandfatherly inspection. “I wanted to come with the others to Houston, but some stuff came up and someone had to stay here. Prayed like crazy for you.”
    “I know you did.”
    “That’s quite a bruise you got going there.”
    “Just a little bump on the head.” I glanced at a production poster hanging on the wall behind him. “ Sound of Music , huh? Pretty ambitious. I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be.” He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Our Captain Von Trapp towers at five-foot-three, and Maria sings like a howling coyote.”
    “Save me a front row seat.”
    He chuckled, the lines around his eyes a gathering of creases and folds. “Your grandma sure is glad to have her little buddy back. How long are you staying?”
    “Oh, probably indefinitely.”
    Sam blinked. “What do you