Two
THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK CITY GLOWED IN THE NIGHT SKY AS Bailey Flanigan and her mom arrived in busy, bustling Times Square. They shared a quick dinner at Sbarro on Broadway across from the DoubleTree, and headed to their room at the Marriott Marquis. Since her mom had slept the entire flight in, and because of the noise of the city and even the restaurant, Bailey still hadn’t found a time to tell her mom about her meeting yesterday with Cody. Finally, alone in their hotel room, Bailey sat on the edge of the bed near the pillow and tried to remember every detail.
“I feel terrible for the girl … her name’s Cheyenne.” Bailey sat cross-legged, her long hair in a side ponytail. “But still … I had no idea he’d moved on.”
Her mom took the chair a few feet away, and a sad, knowing sort of look filled her face. “I figured you had more in that heart of yours than the goodbyes you said to your dad and your brothers.”
Bailey nodded. “It was a lot. Too much to talk about.” She exhaled, feeling the weariness from earlier that day. “I wasn’t sure I could take all those goodbyes.” She tilted her head, thoughtful. “Isn’t it so weird, Mom? I mean, like, I’ve said goodbye to not only my childhood, but to my family. Now …” she didn’t want to cry again, and her eyes were dry. But that didn’t make the situation easier to accept. “Now they’ll grow up without me. Like, when I see them again they’ll be taller and older looking.”
Her mom’s eyes looked a little damp. “We’ll visit. We’re coming the first weekend after you join the show.”
“I’m glad.” Bailey wasn’t distraught, not really. Her moving just made life so different, their family so unlike what it had ever been before. “So, yes, Cody was on my mind. We … we didn’t talk much at the hospital.”
“Maybe he’s feeling hurt too. Have you thought about that?” Always her mom had been a great listener, even when she didn’t agree with Bailey. This was one of those times. “I mean, sweetheart, he has to know about Brandon Paul. He came to our house and saw the two of you. And then he drove away.”
“Right, and he should’ve talked to me.” Bailey leaned against the headboard. “Cody’s always running, Mom … I’m tired of that.” She set her heart’s resolve, unwilling to spend the evening feeling sad about Cody. “Besides, he has Cheyenne. And he clearly has her. He was sitting by her side like … like they were married or something.”
“Honey, …” again caution rang quietly in her mom’s voice. “He’s doing what anyone would do in the situation. Cheyenne is fighting for her life.” She paused, her eyes still on Bailey. “Did you see anyone else there?”
“An older woman. But that’s all.”
“So Cheyenne probably needs him.”
Bailey hadn’t thought about that. Despite the girl’s injuries all Bailey had seen was Cody sitting by her bedside. As if he cared for her more than anyone in the world. Like he maybe even loved her. She felt suddenly terrible for her assumptions. “You’re right. I can’t tell anything from what I saw.” She looked out the window at the dazzling lights, and she remembered again where she was and why she was here — and that she wasn’t going back home at the end of the week. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We said our goodbyes.”
Bailey spent the next hour talking about how Cody had begged her to stay longer, and how he’d asked her to sit by him while he went through the things in the box. But how she had hurried away, anxious to be done with the visit. “I think I learned something.” Resignation sounded in her voice. It was the saddest part of saying goodbye to Cody, this realization that had stayed with her since then. “I can’t be Cody’s friend. I care too much about him.”
“Hmm.” Her mom’s face was open and kind … not the least bit judgmental. “I understand.” She wasn’t in a hurry, clearly wanting Bailey to feel her support. “How are things with Brandon?”
Bailey felt a smile start in her heart and work its way to her face. “He’s great. I mean … every time we talk I feel the possibility a little more.” She explained how Brandon had plans to visit often and for whatever reasons he could think of.
“I’m sure.” Her mom laughed. “Especially if he would fly to Indiana to help you clean your room.”
The conversation lasted well into the night, until finally they were both too tired to keep their eyes open. As Bailey fell asleep she recounted the time with her mom, how close the two of them were. Tonight’s talk was the sort of one she couldn’t have on a regular basis once her mom returned to Bloomington on Wednesday.
She reminded herself to appreciate this time with her mom, and she thanked God for the opportunity — both that night and the next day as they took a car into the city and saw Mary Poppins. By then, the sadness from the night before had faded, and after the play Bailey and her mom set out down Seventh Avenue toward Forty-second Street — and past the J. Markham Theater where Bailey would perform. The Hairspray marquis looked twenty feet high and the lights around it shone even now in the brightest sunlight.
“I can’t believe it.” Her mom slid closer to Bailey in the backseat of the cab and gave her a quick side hug. “This is where you’ll be working!”
They asked the driver to stop, and they jumped out of the car and took pictures in front of the theater. The building was locked and empty now, since it was only ten in the morning. Rehearsals took place a few blocks away. But still Bailey wanted to capture this moment, and she took a final photo using her phone. Then with a few taps of her fingers she texted it to Connor with this caption: Working on Broadway … God is great!
They were back in the car when Bailey felt her phone vibrate and saw Connor’s response. He’s got big plans for you, Bailey … glad to see you smiling today!
A warmth spread through her, and she felt the certainty of being exactly where God wanted her to be.
She gave the driver directions to the rehearsal location: Big City Studios on Fifty-fourth Street. Traffic was bad — but then that was always the case. “We could’ve walked faster,” her mom whispered to her, grinning.
“I know … I think that’s what I love about New York. You’re never alone.”
“That’s for sure.” They both laughed, and fifteen minutes later the driver reached the studio. They asked him to be back in an hour, and they hurried inside. A guard at the front door looked over Bailey’s paperwork, checked their IDs, and let them inside. As soon as they walked into the lobby of the rehearsal space, they heard the music. On the other side of the door the cast was practicing the song “Without Love,” and suddenly Bailey’s heart soared with what lay ahead. It was really happening! She belonged here … performing on Broadway.
Quietly they crept in the back door of the studio and looked for a seat along the rear wall. Francesca Tilly, the show’s director, had asked them to come. But that didn’t mean she would want her rehearsal interrupted. The space was large enough for the entire cast to be spread out, and from what Bailey could tell, everyone knew the dance. But this was how they stayed strong. They practiced until the movements were like breathing.
The moment the song ended, Francesca clapped her hands and pointed toward the back of the room. “Alright, family, turn around.” Twenty-some dancers did as she asked, curious looks on their faces. “This is your newest sister. She’ll begin rehearsals Wednesday.” Francesca smiled big toward Bailey and her mom. “Welcome, Bailey Flanigan. And Bailey’s mother, I assume. We’re glad you’re here.”
Bailey had the sense this was how Francesca always introduced the newest cast members, because the guys and girls smiled and waved, and there were a few who called out, “Hi, Bailey … glad you’re here.” Or some other such thing.
She returned the waves, and so did her mom.
As soon as the cast turned back to Francesca, the director dropped the friendly persona and scowled at each of them, her eyes moving over them the way they had over the hundred girls who had tried out with Bailey. “Now … I was at the show over the weekend … I know, I know … I didn’t tell you I’d be there. But when you sang “Welcome to the Sixties,” I felt like you wanted me to leave!” her voice boomed through the rehearsal space. “I absolutely did not feel welcome, because none of you — that’s right none of you — looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
Bailey smothered a smile behind her hand. Her friend Tim Reed was dating a girl who used to be in the Hairspray cast, and a few months ago when Bailey had auditioned, the girl had warned her. Francesca was very, very difficult to work for. But Bailey liked that she demanded perfection. How many directors would tell a cast of professional singers and dancers that they hadn’t looked like they were enjoying themselves? Not many, Bailey figured. That’s what set Francesca apart from the others. And it was why she was grateful she’d be starting her Broadway career here under the critical but careful hand of Ms. Tilly.
The director was explaining that the number should be so fun, people will have to hold back from jumping into the aisles and dancing along. “That’s the sort of welcome we want people to feel when they watch this number. Like they’ve just been reintroduced into the era of the sixties, and they wish with every heartbeat they could get on stage and join you.”
They watched for nearly an hour, and Bailey soaked in every correction, every bit of direction Francesca gave them. Being here was good. She would come to her first rehearsal that much more prepared. Finally, Bailey’s mom gave her a gentle nudge, and Bailey stood. The driver would be waiting. Besides, it was time to meet her new landlords, Bob and Betty Keller. Bailey followed her mother to the car, which was already waiting out front.
“That was amazing.” Her mom’s look was part exhaustion, part nervousness. “I can’t imagine performing in front of her.”
“It’ll be fun.” Bailey slid into the backseat and made room for her mom to join her. “She only wants everyone to be better.”
“But the way she does it … I’d be crying in ten minutes.”
Bailey laughed, imagining Francesca’s reaction if one of her dancers broke into tears. “I don’t think you’d work long on Broadway.”
“You got that right.” Her mom pulled a folder from her purse and gave the driver the address for the Kellers'. “We’re running a little early … but they’re expecting us.”
This time they tipped the driver as he helped unload their suitcases from the back of the car. The hotel was only eight blocks from the Kellers’ house. They really hadn’t needed a driver that morning, if it weren’t for their heavy bags. Bailey was glad the Hairspray producers had provided one, for that reason alone. Once the car pulled away, Bailey spotted a man selling roses not far down the street. “Let’s buy some. For Betty.”
“Good idea.” Her mom pulled two suitcases, while Bailey pulled the other two, and they walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the crowded street until they reached the florist. They bought yellow roses and then headed to the apartment building where the Kellers lived. A doorman stood at the entrance, and when they explained who they were, he buzzed the Kellers and welcomed them into the lobby. Bailey’s mom whispered to her, “I like that they have security.”
Bailey smiled to herself, grateful to God. She had worried about how safe she would be in New York, and prayed to leave the matter in the Lord’s hands. And now here He had answered her prayers abundantly. Not only was she safe, but completely taken care of. They wheeled the suitcases into the elevator, rode it to the eleventh floor, and as they stepped off, a pretty white-haired woman was waiting for them.
“You must be Bailey and Jenny.” Her smile filled her face and she held out her hands. First she hugged Jenny, then Bailey. “Aren’t you the prettiest thing?” She stepped back, her hands still on Bailey’s shoulders. “You’ll be marvelous on that Hairspray stage.” She looked back at Jenny. “Come on … I have lunch ready, and Bob’s setting the table.”
Bailey handed the roses to the woman. “These are for you. Thank you so much for having me … you have no idea how much this means.”
“Oh, dear … it’s our pleasure. We haven’t had a Broadway actress living with us for far too long. Having girls like you … it keeps us young. We’re going to have a wonderful time together.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, dear … please,” the woman grinned at her and gave her another quick hug. “Call me Betty.”
“Okay.” Bailey laughed at herself for thinking this situation might be even the slightest bit awkward. “Thank you, Betty.”
Bailey could tell immediately that she was going to love Betty Keller. The woman reminded her of Elizabeth Baxter — the matriarch of Bloomington’s Baxter family and the first wife of John Baxter. Elizabeth had died of cancer several years back, but her genuine kindness and warmth for everyone she met lived on in the memories of all who knew her. Bailey was no exception.
They went into the Kellers’ apartment, and the view caught Bailey by surprise. She stopped, and a quiet gasp sounded on her lips. The entire far two walls of the living room were made of glass, and they offered a view of not only the city streets below, but also of Central Park. “Your view … it’s breathtaking.”
“Thank you.” Bob walked up and introduced himself. He was completely bald with a tanned face and dimples when he smiled that made him look half his age. He gave a silly shrug. “Of course, I can’t take credit for the view, actually. Not really. That’s God’s doing.”
“But it is always surprising to people how close the park is when you’re this high up. It’s just a few blocks away, really.”
Bailey imagined sitting on the Kellers’ sofa looking out that window. She would journal here and read her Bible here and even on the craziest day, after crazy difficult rehearsals with Francesca, she would have this respite to come home to. “It’s perfect. Really.”
Her mom agreed, and for a few minutes they talked about the flight in, and the stop at rehearsals earlier today, and all that lay ahead for Bailey once she began working with the rest of the cast.
“Francesca is a friend of ours,” Betty winked. “Most people don’t know that. We’re … well, we’re very different.” She slipped her arm around Bob’s waist. “We love Jesus in our house,” she smiled at Bailey, “as you know. Francesca … well, she’s not a believer. She has made that clear a vast number of times, isn’t that right, Bob?”
“It is. She doesn’t believe a word of it.” He winked again. “Not yet, at least.”
Bailey felt a ripple of anxiety. She knew about Francesca’s lack of faith. Tim’s girlfriend had told her that. But this confirmation was just a little chilling. “Does she … does she hold it against you if you believe?” If so, then fine. Bailey was ready for the challenge. But she wanted to know now, rather than find out later.
“Not really.” Betty led them through the living room, around a corner, and down a hallway. She looked back at Bailey. “The thing to remember is, you must show your love as a Christian on Broadway. No one wants to hear about your faith. They must see it.”
Wise words, Bailey told herself. She nodded. “I’ll remember that.”
Bob had stayed back in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the lunch. Now Betty opened the first door on the right and stood back while Bailey and her mom entered first. “This is your room.” She put her hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “I hope it’ll work for you.”
Again Bailey wanted to stop and catch her breath. The room had plush white carpeting and an elevated queen bed, with pale yellow and white bedding. The walls were a deep taupe, and the trim was painted the whitest possible white. All that and she had a window — one that overlooked a part of the street below and more of Central Park. “Mrs. Kel — “ Bailey caught herself. “Betty … it’s beautiful. Beyond anything I ever imagined.”
“Well, good.” She stood back, happy with the situation. “That’s how God works.”
“Sound familiar?” Bailey’s mom moved Bailey’s suitcases into the far corner of the room. “Not that we’ll always have a view of Central Park,” she laughed quietly. “But He’ll always exceed what we can imagine Him to do, the ways He comforts us and leads us.”
“Amen.” Betty turned smiling eyes at Bailey’s mother. “You remind me of my oldest daughter. I’m sure the two of you would’ve been friends.”
Bailey looked forward to learning more about Betty and Bob, about their family and their lives together, and about their adventures on Broadway. After she’d looked around her new room and noted the large empty closet space and the small attached bathroom and shower, they moved back to the living room. Along the way, Betty explained that she and Francesca had performed in the same cast of Forty-Second Street back in the day. “Not a person on Broadway would’ve figured Francesca would be a director one day,” Betty said. “She was the least serious person in the cast. But something happened to her back then. It’s a long story.” Betty looked back at Bailey. “I’m sure we’ll have lots of time to talk later, when you get in your routine.”
They all agreed, and for the next hour they shared lunch and talked about how Bob was the cook between the two of them. “I got tired of eating crunchy pasta and microwave dinners.” He chuckled, a fond look on his face. “Bless my Betty’s heart. She’s a much better singer than she is a cook.”
Bailey flashed a nervous grin at her mother. The same could be said for her, she was sure. She might have to spend a little time with Bob … learn a little about cooking. Now, before she was really on her own. The meal ended, and Betty and Bob encouraged them to have a look at the city, take a walk to the park. Like old friends, Betty and Bob seemed to understand how important the time between Bailey and her mother was. Bailey appreciated their consideration, and she told her mom so when they were back outside on the street. “I’m going to like Bob and Betty.” She walked with a spring in her step. The sun warmed her shoulders and the air was a perfect temperature. “They already seem like family.”
“Exactly.” She looked at Bailey, her expression curious. “Didn’t you think Betty was a little like — “ “Elizabeth Baxter?” Bailey laughed.
“Really? Did you see it too?” Her mom stopped, taken by the fact.
“Mom, seriously … she was just like her. I thought it the moment we walked off the elevator.” Bailey loved this, the way she and her mom saw so much of life the same way, how they had similar viewpoints and revelations throughout the day. It was one of the many things she was going to miss when they were living a thousand miles away from each other.
The rest of the day went quickly, and after a fun night at the Kellers', Bailey and her mom spent the next afternoon shopping.
“Have you thought about how much money you’ll make?” Her mom looked through a rack of sweaters and stopped to meet Bailey’s eyes. They were at H&M, a discount clothing store on Fifth Avenue. “We haven’t really talked about it.”
Bailey knew the answer. She would make as much in a month as some people made in a year. It was an amount that didn’t make sense to her, since she would’ve gladly performed on Broadway for free. And the Kellers had already made it clear they wouldn’t take rent. She had a year-long contract, so truly she would be able to give and save a significant amount — depending on how long the producers kept her on the show.
“I know. I guess it hasn’t really sunk in.” Bailey looked through a rack of exercise pants — perfect for rehearsals.
That night Bailey and her mom took the Kellers out to dinner, to one of their favorite restaurants — the R Lounge at Two Times Square on the second floor of the Renaissance Hotel on West Forty-eighth Street and Seventh Avenue. The place was quiet, and the views of Times Square were the best in the city. There they learned a little more about Betty and Bob. They had three children — two who lived in upstate New York with their families, and a third who was making his way. That’s how the Kellers described him. He was making his way. Bailey wasn’t sure what that meant, but she guessed she would find out in time.
Bailey and her mom turned in early that night, since she had rehearsal at nine the next morning. Originally Bailey had been told she’d start rehearsing a few weeks after her arrival, but Francesca changed that. The director wanted her to join the production as soon as possible. As for tomorrow’s rehearsal, her mom had been invited to watch. As they arrived at the studio and Bailey took her place with the other dancers, she was grateful again that her mom was there. This way when they talked about Bailey’s experience with Francesca and the practices, and even the various people in the cast — her mom would know what she was talking about. Because she’d taken the time to be here now.
Francesca gave the cast a brief description of Bailey’s character. “I’ll have you know that this young dancer won her spot with a resounding audition.” Francesca gave a pointed look to Bailey. “Respect her, family. She is your sister, your peer, and your equal. She will play ensemble, and she will understudy for Penny.” She looked them over the way a teacher might look over her slightly disheveled first grade class. “Alright then, let’s begin. We’ll work first on the song that’s most appropriate for the occasion.” She smiled to herself, and in that moment Bailey could see how much the director enjoyed her job. She pointed at her assistant, poised over an iPod and speakers. “Cue ‘The New Girl in Town.’”
Bailey smiled and then immediately forced herself to be serious. No matter the irony, it was time to learn. The others were here to help her catch on, and she would slow them down until she did. “Alright, Bailey, … line up behind the last line of dancers and watch feet. Only feet. We’ll go through it once, and then I’ll break it down.”
Two hours passed in a blur of music and dancing and memorized movement. When they were done, Bailey was confident of the steps in “New Girl,” and she had a vague idea of how to get through “Run and Tell That.” But she had a mountain of work ahead — enough that she felt dazed and dizzy as Francesca dismissed them.
“Don’t let her get to you.” A thin blonde came up to her as they were leaving. “I’m Chrissy Stonelake. I understudy for Amber.” Bailey shook her hand, and both girls apologized for being sweaty. Bailey laughed, grateful to have a friend in the cast. But even as she did, she noticed how thin Chrissy was. Too thin. And there were dark circles under her eyes. Bailey wondered if one day she’d be close enough to Chrissy to find out about the dark circles. “I figured she’d work us this hard, but being here … going through it … nothing could’ve really prepared me for this.”
“I know.” The girl seemed like she was trying to look confident, or like maybe the rehearsal had caused her to feel alive and complete. “But you’ll learn more from Francesca than anyone in the business.” She grinned as she grabbed her bag. “Our rule in the family — she always calls us her family — is just do what she says and bring a lot of water.” She waved. “See you tomorrow.”
Bailey said the same, and found her bag along the wall. Her mom waited nearby, and as they walked out they shared a smile. “That was incredible.” Bailey wondered if her legs had the strength to carry her down the steps to the waiting car. Again, the producers had provided a ride. This time so they could take Bailey’s mom to the airport. Her flight was set to leave in three hours.
“You did great.” Her mom took Bailey’s bag from her, found a small towel inside, and handed it to her. “She really worked you.”
“I loved it …” Bailey’s laugh gave away how tired she really was. “I mean, I’m not sure I can take ten steps after that, but still … I loved it.”
“You’ll catch on quickly.” Her mom had a single small bag herself, and they slipped it in the car. Already Bailey could hear a difference in her voice, the awareness of how little time they had together.
On the way to the airport they talked about their morning conversation with the Kellers. Bob and Betty had already decided they would walk with Bailey to the theater every time she had a show, and they’d wait for her at the end of the night to walk her home again. As for rehearsals, Bailey would have access to a car any time she wanted. Part of the package of being a tenant in the Kellers’ apartment building. “We’ll make sure the car picks her up and gets her to rehearsals and then brings her back when they’re finished,” Bob told them. “It’s part of our role … the way we handle hosting a young star like Bailey.”
Now her mom smiled at the term. “I heard him say that, how he called you a young star, and I looked across the breakfast table at you.” There was a tenderness in her mother’s voice. “I wanted to say, no … you weren’t a young star. You were my little girl. My Bailey … and that, I don’t know, somehow I guess I expected you to come back home with me when you were done playing pretend on Broadway.” She reached over and put her fingers over Bailey’s. “But then I only had to remember how I’ve seen you perform … what you’re capable of doing. And I realized they were right. You’re a young star on Broadway, Bailey.”
“Not really.” She understood what her mom meant, but she didn’t like the term. “I never think about people being stars or … I don’t know, having fans. Like some people are above others … better somehow.”
Her mom angled her head, thoughtful. “I love that about you. I mean … they were only saying it in the kindest way. But you’re right … people are people.”
Bailey smiled. “It’s what you and Dad always taught us.”
“And now … sweet girl … you get the chance to live that out here in New York City.” She leaned in close and hugged Bailey. “You’ll be brilliant, honey. And everyone will see something different about you, how you’re not like anyone else. And along the way, I’m absolutely sure people will be changed.” She pulled back, her eyes still on Bailey’s. “Maybe even —”
“Francesca Tilly?” They hesitated for a moment and laughed. Because once more, one last time before her mother would return to life in Bloomington and Bailey would start her own here in New York, they had finished each other’s thoughts.
The ride to the airport was too fast, and as the driver pulled up to the American Airlines drop-off area, Bailey felt her throat tighten. It was one thing to walk around the city with her mom, marveling at the sights and being grateful about her new place and her incredible opportunity. One thing to go through an intense rehearsal with Francesca barking orders at her one on top of the other while her mom was watching. Her mother was her best friend, after all. But now …
Her mom set her bag down and they stood facing each other on the curb. “When you were born … I would stare at you for hours and somehow believe that this day would never come.” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she spoke just loud enough to be heard above the occasional passing car. “I couldn’t imagine it … you all grown up and leaving.”
“I know … me either.” Bailey took her mother’s hands. “You’re my best friend, Mom. We’ll talk every day. No matter how long I stay here.”
Her mom didn’t say that even if they talked every few hours it would never be the same … she didn’t mention that there was no way around the fact this was a very real and dramatic ending to a special time in their lives. Instead she smiled through her tears. “You’ll stay a long time … I know that.” She kissed Bailey’s cheek. “Because you’re that good, honey.”
Bailey only looked at her mom for a while, memorizing the support and confidence her mom had for her. “Do you think … do you think I can do this?” Her voice had fallen to a choked whisper.
“Yes.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in her mom’s response. “You can do this … and you will be brilliant, Bailey. You will.” She smiled, gathering her composure. “I’ve loved every minute of raising you … my only girl. But you’re ready, sweetheart. Go shine brightly for Jesus.”
“I will.” It was all she could say before the tears broke for her too. She flung herself into her mother’s arms and they stayed that way, clinging to each other for a long time. Finally, Bailey eased back first. “You need to go.”
“Yes.” Her mom sniffed, and took the handle of her bag. “I love you, Bailey.”
“I love you too. Thanks for everything, Mom. You and Dad … we wouldn’t be who we are without you.”
There were no more words, nothing else either of them could say. They simply let their eyes speak the volumes between them, recapping a lifetime they couldn’t fit into this final moment. Her mom waved as she walked to the revolving glass door, and Bailey did the same. And after a few seconds, her mom walked out of sight.
A shiver came over Bailey as the realization hit with a finality she’d never felt in all her life. This was it. She was on her own in New York City, ready to tackle her greatest dream and her biggest fears. As she climbed into the car, she reminded herself that everything would be okay, because God had brought her here, and He had provided the perfect place for her to live, the perfect way for her to get safely around the city, and the toughest director in New York City. Bailey smiled through her tears as she climbed back in the car.
She could hardly wait for tomorrow.