Angels Everywhere - Debbie Macomber [140]
Jenny rolled her eyes.
“I’m not blowing smoke out my ears, either.” Michelle sounded slightly offended. “I mean it, Jenny. I really think you’re going to get a part, maybe even one of the leads.”
Jenny knew otherwise. She sang her heart out the way she did for every audition. Nothing was going to change. She refused to build up her hopes again.
“This looks interesting,” Michelle said, holding up an envelope and tossing it to her. “It’s addressed to you. It might even be a Christmas card. Already? Good grief, it’s not even December yet.”
Jenny examined the envelope, her gaze scanning the return address. She recognized it immediately, and her breath jammed in her throat.
“Jenny? What is it?”
“It’s from Trey,” she whispered.
“Trey who?”
She stood and walked around the table while motioning with her hands, unable to formulate the words. “Trey LaRue . . . my neighbor, or rather my parents’ neighbor.”
“You’ve never mentioned him before,” Michelle said.
“I haven’t?” That seemed impossible. He was an integral part of what she considered home and family.
“Well, open it and find out what he has to say,” Michelle encouraged.
That seemed the most logical thing to do. Jenny’s hand trembled as she peeled back the flap and withdrew a card. A colorful turkey decorated the front, its plumage fanned out across the top. She opened the card and found Trey had written only one short sentence: “I’m eager to see you this Christmas.” His name was signed below in smooth, even strokes of the fountain pen.
Jenny’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. She handed the card to Michelle.
“You’re going home for the holidays?”
Jenny shook her head. “You know I can’t. Not with money so tight.” Not after she’d let everyone believe she had a starring role in an Off Broadway production.
“I like his signature,” Michelle said, studying the card. “You can tell a lot about a man by the way he signs his name.” Her look was thoughtful. “But,” she continued, grinning at Jenny, “I’d rather have you tell me all about him yourself.”
“What can I say?” Jenny murmured, surprised to discover she didn’t want to discuss Trey with her best friend.
She’d never missed home more than she did right at that moment. She longed to gaze into a night sky where the stars weren’t obliterated by city lights. She wanted to close her eyes and smell the scent of fresh hay. Home was cattle and mud and frustration. Home was love. Home was Trey.
“He’s hasn’t written you before, has he?” Michelle pressed.
“No.”
“Why now?”
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. He owns the spread next to ours,” she volunteered, hoping her friend would help her reason it out. A smile touched the edges of her mouth. “He’s a cowboy from head to foot. Full of grit and mettle. Stubborn and determined, with skin as tan as leather and a constitution of iron.”
“Did you date him?”
“No . . . he’s older than me by several years.” Eight years had made a world of difference when she was in high school, but it didn’t seem all that important now. “He’s probably one of the most decent, hardworking men I’ve ever known.”
“It’s obvious he wants you to come home.”
Jenny set aside the card and exhaled a long, slow breath. “Well, I can’t, so there’s no use sitting around here stewing about it.”
“It seems a shame, after him writing and all.”
“I can’t go home,” Jenny said forcefully. “You can’t, either, because the both of us are going to have plum roles in the new Lehman musical, and we’ll be in the thick of rehearsals.”
“You’re right,” Michelle said as if this were something she hadn’t considered.
“We’ll be stars.”
“Stars,” Michelle repeated. “Our names will light up the marquee.”
“Bright lights, and bright futures.” But even as she said the words, they rang false in her ears.
“Goodness.” Gabriel was furious. Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy had ignored him at every turn, and he wasn’t putting up with it this year. His schedule