Throughout his career, actor John Paravati has stuck with what he told the gossip rags -- he's been in like, in lust, even in respect once or twice, but never love. All he's ever cared about is performing. If he's stuck now doing commercials for cruise lines, at least it's better than shilling adult diapers.<br><br>But Hollywood pretends, and John is a master. Because once upon a time, he loved two things more than anything -- his best friend Frank and the movie palace he used as sanctuary.<br><br>Over fifty years ago, John ran away from his hometown. Now, someone has restored the theater he left behind, and they want John at its relaunch. The memories still sting, but he agrees to attend, even though it means dealing with heartache. At seventy-seven, he's too old to hold onto the hurt. The question is, however, is he too old to start over once it's gone?

The Hearts of Yesteryear

The porch light flipped on as they ascended the stairs, and a swathe of illumination cut across the pale wood when the door opened. “Dad?” Amanda said, pushing open the screen. “Is everything all right at the theater?”


She was dressed for comfort, nearly lost in a pair of baggy sweats and a Duke T-shirt that hung off her thin frame. For a second, John could see the child she had been, the inquisitive overachiever Frank had described, the one who’d devoured stories of Shakersville like candy. He amended his earlier decision. If she gave Frank a hard time, he’d wait until after the grand opening tomorrow night to lay into her, and he’d do it in private to avoid upsetting Frank more than he feared he already would be.


“Everything’s fine,” Frank assured.


“Then what…I mean, I didn’t expect…” Shaking off her confusion, she flattened against the door to give more to room to enter. “We were just watching some TV. You want me to call Corrine for you, Mr. Paravati?”


Chapter 27