“The last time you made me breakfast wearing my clothes was college.” Vaughn’s voice was pensive. “I was living in an apartment off campus. You wore my Heritage High football jersey.”
“I remember that.” Benita kept her gaze on her plate as she fed herself a forkful of French toast.
“I’m still upset about losing that jersey.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Benita pictured his jersey in her drawer with the rest of her night wear. She felt guilty but not enough to return it.
“It just disappeared.”
“Hmmm.” Benita made herself swallow another bite of French toast. They ate in silence for a while. Benita wrestled with her guilt over Vaughn’s jersey.
“The same thing happened to my diary.” She finally broke the silence. “I used to write in it every day. One day it was there, the next it was gone.”
“That’s strange.”
“I think my mother took it. It disappeared while I was home from college during summer break.” Benita sipped her coffee. “She denies it, but who else could it be? She knew about the diary and had access to it.”
“You have a point.”
“It’s bad enough that she’d take my diary, but why keep it for all these years? That’s just silly.” Benita shrugged off her irritation. “Anyway, let’s talk about something happier, like how wonderful Mystic Park is.”
“Thank you.” Pleasure warmed Vaughn’s cocoa eyes.
“I know some producers who’d be happy to read it. It’s right up their alley.”
The pleasure faded from his expression. “I’m not interested.”
Benita had anticipated that response. She knew Vaughn too well to have expected this pitch would be easy. “Why not?”
“I’m producing my play here, in Trinity Falls.”
“I know, and I’m proud that you’re using your work to raise money for the community center. But after the fund-raiser, you could produce Mystic Park in other cities and expose your work to a wider audience.”
Vaughn stacked his dishes with Benita’s, then rose from the table. “Benny, why do you want to show my work to this producer?”
Was he kidding? Benita followed Vaughn to his dishwasher.
“Your play is fantastic, the script as well as the music.” Her words sped up with her enthusiasm. “It should be performed in front of as many audiences as possible. Why don’t you want that?”
“I’m not interested in meeting with producers, pitching my work to investors, touring. I don’t want any of that.” Vaughn stacked the dirty dishes in his dishwasher. “All I ever wanted was to share my work with my community.”
“But, Vaughn, you could do so much more with your talent.” Benita spread her arms. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to.”
Vaughn straightened from the dishwasher. “And I don’t understand why what I do want isn’t enough for you.”
“Because it isn’t.” Benita spun on her bare heel and marched out of the kitchen. “You have too much talent to let it go to waste.”
Vaughn followed her up the stairs and into his bedroom. “Putting my talents to use in Trinity Falls isn’t a waste. This town is enough for me. It used to be enough for you, too, before you let your mother change your mind.”
“My mother was right. And, if you’d ever left this town, you’d see that.” Benita kept her back to Vaughn as she pulled on the clothes she’d worn yesterday.
If she faced him as she took off her clothes, she’d drag him back to bed. Sadly, it was getting late. Vaughn had to get to work and she wanted to accompany her great-aunt to another meeting with Foster.
“I’ve visited you in Los Angeles several times. If that’s your idea of having more, you’re welcome to keep all of it.” Vaughn’s disgruntled words carried to her from across the room.
“Is that your final decision?” Benita turned as she adjusted the hem of her T-shirt over the waistband of her capris.
“Yes, it is.” Vaughn’s tone and expression were stubborn.