was it. If he didn’t recognize her now, she could maybe pull off anonymity until the summer was over. The only other choice was to deny Lizzie the opportunity to be part of the play, and Alex wasn’t about to do that. This was the first time in months Lizzie had shown such enthusiasm.
Standing next to her, Daniel offered his hand. “Daniel Chandler. Among other things, I am an amateur actor—sort of.”
Daniel had never been an amateur anything.
“May I join you?”
Alex took the hand that had felt as natural as a glove during that summer. “Hello, Mr. Chandler.” She moved over a seat so he could sit next to her. What else could she do?
He did, giving her the same friendly smile that had won her over years before, a smile that was as genuine as it was memorable. “Daniel, please. I don’t even get called Mr. Chandler at the statehouse.”
Alex didn’t comment, not wanting him to realize that she knew anything about him. As far as he was concerned, this was a first—and hopefully a last—meeting. After all, Glen was in charge of directing and producing. With any luck, Alex wouldn’t even see Daniel again.
Daniel stared at the stage. “Your daughter gave a good read,” he said before turning his attention to Alex. “We want her in the production.”
Alex’s gaze was caught in the warm beam of deep olive green eyes she’d never forgotten. She wanted to look away, look down, anything to keep him from scrutinizing her so closely. But his stare only became more intense.
And then his eyes widened. His brow furrowed. Another grin, slight, but just as charming as she remembered, tilted his full mouth. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I know you.”
She shook her head. “Well...perhaps...”
“Alex? Alex Foster?”
“No longer Foster now,” she stammered. “Alexis Pope.”
The grin spread. “So some lucky guy caught you. I’m not surprised. Do you remember me? If you don’t, it’s okay. There were lots of guys after you that summer.”
And she’d agreed to go out with a couple of them. But that was before Daniel became the best part of her stay at Birch Shore. The rest of her summer had been just Daniel.
“We were at the Birch Shore Resort together. I was going into my junior year of college at OSU and you were going to Wittenberg, I think, as a freshman.”
She never made it to Wittenberg. Instead, she enrolled in art history classes as Alexis Pope at the University of Chicago, where Teddy took her to live.
“I seem to recall having to talk you into joining the revue that summer,” Daniel continued. “It was the best way I could think of to get to know you better.”
And it worked. Daniel was unlike any of the boys she’d gone out with in high school. He was experienced in ways they weren’t. And he was nice. From the first day she’d met him, he’d treated her as if she was truly someone special.
Alex drew a long breath. She could hardly confess to not remembering the boy who’d... But then again, she couldn’t admit what they’d meant to each other that summer. Daniel might have forgotten her once he was back at school, once she told him she’d moved on.
“Oh, right,” she said. “I do remember you, though I don’t recall too much about that summer...” If lying was a sin, she was doomed.
His eyes narrowed with a flash of doubt. “You don’t remember spending time together, just you and me?”
“Well, yes, some,” she said. “But there were other kids around most of the time.”
He seemed to accept her answer. “It was a great summer, living in dorms, eating in the cafeteria, wearing those goofy uniforms.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Funny I’ve never run into you before now,” he said. “You still live in Fox Creek?”
At least she didn’t have to lie about that. “No. After I married, I went to live in Chicago. I’m just here visiting my father.”
“I hope you’ll be around long enough for Lizzie to have her chance on stage.”
“Yes, we plan to stay awhile.”
“Great. She’s a minor, right? So Glen will have to get your signature on some papers, but we’ll treat her with kid gloves.”
“How involved are you, Daniel? Will you have an acting part in the play?”
“Nothing as glamorous as that. While I’m on hiatus from my real job, I’m helping with the sets. And since I’ve had some acting experience, I may try my hand at coaching some of the newer players. It’s just a diversion for me really, and I’ve known Glen for a long time.”
He was being modest. He had been the star of the resort revue. Audiences had loved his singing and dancing. All the girls had confessed to having crushes on him. The resort guests asked for him personally when they needed a favor during the day. That summer he had cleaned up on tips, stashing away every cent to pay for college.
“So this has your stamp of approval for Lizzie, Alex?” he asked. “I hope so. She’s a natural.”
“Sure. Whatever she wants.”
He stood and called toward the stage. “Come on down, Lizzie. Your mom is on board.”
Lizzie bounded down to the main floor. She scurried up to her mother and Daniel. “It’s okay with you, Mom? I can drive myself whenever you don’t want to bring me. You won’t have to operate a taxi the whole summer.”
“Yes, honey, I think it’s a great idea.”
Lizzie gave her a hug.
“It’s settled, then,” Daniel said. “Take a copy of the script home and start learning the lines. We’ll have to get your dress size and shoe size so we can alert the costume designer that we have our Zaneeta. This was the last major role we had to fill.”
Having heard the exchange, Glen joined the others. “I’d say this calls for a celebration, not just because we have our Zaneeta, but because old friends have met in this theater today. We need to catch up with each other. What do you say, Alex? All of us, dinner on me at the Jug and Boar?”
Alex ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know, Glen. I have obligations...”
“You can bring your husband,” Daniel said. “And Lizzie can bring a friend...”
“I don’t have friends here,” Lizzie said. “And my father died...”
Alex felt the cold rush of guilt creep into her cheeks. There had been no reason for her to tell Daniel she was a widow, and yet she somehow felt as if she’d withheld that information from him.
Daniel stepped back. “I’m so sorry. How long ago?”
“It was January,” Alex said. “We’re still adjusting.”
“Of course you are. Wow, that’s tough. If there’s anything I can do...”
“There isn’t. I’m with my family.”
“Okay, but if you think of something...”
Glen covered the awkward silence. “I think that dinner is even more important now,” he said. “What do you say, Alex? Is tomorrow night good for you?”
Alex stood and maneuvered her way to the aisle. “I couldn’t. You understand. Lizzie and I have to go now.”
“Sure,” Glen said. “We start rehearsals on Wednesday, kid. We’ll see you at nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be here.”
Alex and Lizzie walked to the exit, and only when