Thirteen
THE SUNRISE REFLECTED ON THE PACIFIC OCEAN WAS EVERY BIT as beautiful as Brandon had said. Bailey climbed out of bed and saw she was the only one awake. Her brothers — and probably the rest of the family — were still sleeping. She checked the clock on the nightstand. Just seven in the morning. The time change must’ve had her body confused.
She had slept in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, plenty warm enough for the California night. The entire back wall of this part of his house was glass, the panoramic ocean view mesmerizing. Bailey walked to the balcony, slid the door open, and stepped outside. Back home the weather was still chilly, snow still piled up in most parking lot corners. But here in Malibu, the breeze off the water was warm and full and fresh against her face.
Bailey breathed in deep and leaned against the railing. No wonder the movie industry had settled here in Southern California. It was impossible not to dream and create and believe the impossible standing here on the edge of the ocean. Bailey lifted her eyes to the vast blue that hung like a canopy over the sea. Dear God, this is the day … the premiere … please, Father, use this film to change our country … to lead people to You.
She hadn’t given a lot of thought to the movie, really. For her and the other actors, the film had been behind them for many months. But for the public, today was a beginning. Goosebumps flashed on her arms and bare legs. The possibilities were endless, and suddenly she was glad for this moment, for a sliver of sanity and solitude at the beginning of what would inevitably be a frenzied day.
Brandon’s beach house was situated so that the ocean was his backyard. No paparazzi could’ve gotten into the small grassy yard behind his house unless they scaled a steep cliffy embankment and found a way over his eight-foot brick wall. The front, of course — where they had entered the house through the garage last night — was fair game. Bailey bet there were cameramen already outside waiting. Especially since she and her family were staying here. One more reason for them to think they’d catch a glimpse of something newsworthy, like her and Brandon, or her family, leaving the house together. The Flanigans were new and different to the Hollywood crowd, and Brandon had warned her last night that all of them would be under scrutiny the entire weekend. She laughed to herself. BJ was right about his teeth — at least for the next forty-eight hours.
“Hey,” Connor joined her on the balcony. He shielded his eyes and scanned the ocean view. “Is this amazing, or what?”
“It is.” She motioned for him to join her, and he did, leaning on the railing beside her, their arms touching. Connor had been her best friend all her life growing up. Only lately — when he’d been busy with football and music and she’d been in college — had they allowed some distance between them. “Could you live here … in Los Angeles?”
“I was thinking about that.” Connor turned toward the water.
“And …?” Bailey loved her brother so much. He was strong and virtuous and he wanted so badly to glorify God with his life. This moment alone with him was one more amazing gift to start the day.
Connor nodded slowly. “I think I could.” His eyes danced, and his seriousness cracked and became a laugh. He looked again at the deep blue Pacific. “I mean, come on, Bailey. You couldn’t do this?”
“Remember, this isn’t exactly real.” She turned her face to the breeze again. A pair of seagulls swept by and squawked as they lighted on the damp, sandy shore. “Brandon might come home here, but he spends his days fighting LA traffic, finding his way through the maze of city cement and asphalt and stucco and steel. High-rise buildings and almost no trees or grass or ocean views.”
“Really?” Connor gave her a pointed look. “This from the girl who dreams about living in New York City.”
Bailey hesitated, but then she laughed. “Good point.” She thought for a long moment, trying to put into words the difference. “New York’s a city, but it’s more like a village. You can get around on foot or by subway.”
“Yeah,” Connor looked at her. “LA’s more of a concrete jungle, I guess.”
“Exactly.”
“But for me … if I want to act or sing … this,” he spread his hand toward the vista, “all of this is where dreams come true.”
This was something Bailey hadn’t heard from Connor … at least not with so much certainty. “You might want to act?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I mean, I want to try out for American Idol first, of course. And I’ll always love singing … but Broadway’s not for me, Bailey. The culture would drive me crazy.”
Bailey understood. It was a very artsy community … Connor — the quarterback of the football team — might have a hard time finding his place in New York City. “So acting, huh?”
“Maybe.” He turned his back to the view, his arms crossed. “We’ll see. But I could do this — the LA thing. I liked how Brandon handled the paparazzi yesterday.” He paused, thoughtful. “I think if a guy is living for God, the whole fame thing isn’t impossible.”
“Hmmm.” Bailey smiled at her brother. “I miss this, you and me talking.”
“Me, too.” He opened the patio door. “Hey, Brandon’s making breakfast. He says we’re eating in half an hour. Then he’s taking us down to the beach for a walk. He has a secret path or something.”
“Brandon’s making breakfast?” Bailey contained a lighthearted giggle. “Really?”
“Okay, not Brandon. His staff.” Connor gave her a look like this was normal, hanging out on the balcony of a beach house and having breakfast with Brandon Paul. “You know … just living the life.”
They both laughed, and Connor went to get ready. Bailey remained on the balcony for another few minutes. She could stay in her shorts and T-shirt if they were headed down to the beach. Put her hair in a ponytail, grab a baseball cap, and call it good until later when they needed to get ready for the night. For now, she wanted to soak in every moment of how it felt to be here. Just the big wide ocean, the Lord, and her.
She replayed in her mind the time with Brandon last night. He was as charming as ever, but this time he was so much more thoughtful, more aware of her as a person. She stared at the crashing waves and tried to imagine her life, if somehow she found a way to live in Los Angeles and keep trying out for movie roles.
If she actually dated Brandon Paul.
For a single instant Cody’s face came to mind. What was he doing this weekend while she was here celebrating the premiere of her movie? Did he even know the film opened this weekend? Did he care? Bailey felt again the pain in her heart, the ache that would probably always be there when she thought about Cody. The more time that passed, the more she realized how right her mother was. Cody had broken her heart, and he had done so seemingly without regret. Never mind that he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. That argument was old. Whatever had really caused him to move on, it shouldn’t have mattered as much as her, as much as she should’ve meant to him. Especially after she had loved him all this time. The truth was, he didn’t care, not that much anyway. He couldn’t have cared. Otherwise he’d be calling her and insisting they meet and talk about what happened. He wouldn’t let her go if he loved her.
The reality was that simple.
Brandon’s interest — no matter how lighthearted — eased the hurt in her heart. It even helped distract her from the disappointment of not winning the Hairspray role. She could hardly feel sad on a day like today—no matter what doors God might close in New York City. Again she stared at the crashing waves. A few guys on boogie boards ran into the water, laughing and splashing up foamy surf as they headed for the breakers. Bailey watched them paddle out and then wait … one minute, two … until finally the perfect wave appeared. They caught it and rode it all the way to shore.
Life was like that. A lot of work and training and preparing, all so that when the time was right a person might catch the perfect wave. One problem … Bailey wasn’t sure what to look for, whether that wave would take her onto a Broadway stage — something that seemed less likely than ever — or whether it might even lead her to Los Angeles.
Enough daydreaming, she told herself. Dear God … You’re in charge. I won’t worry about which wave is the right one. Instead, I’ll trust You that when the time is right, the perfect wave will appear. Just help me be ready to ride it in, Lord. She smiled, enjoying the analogy. Thank You … for the beauty of today.
I have loved you with an everlasting love, Daughter … I am with you always.
Bailey savored the sensation, the feeling that the Creator of the universe was communicating with her right here on Brandon Paul’s balcony. It was the best thing about loving God: knowing that He would never leave her, never let her walk alone. With that in mind, she fixed her hair, found the baseball cap from her suitcase, and met her family and Brandon for breakfast.
The smorgasbord of eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, waffles, and homemade jams was certainly not something Brandon whipped up that morning. But he teased that he had a knack for cooking. He took the seat beside Bailey, and he looked better than ever. Fresh and full of light, his eyes bright with possibility.
Amazing, Bailey thought, how much better a person could look with God in their lives. When she first met Brandon, he had a drinking problem. His eyes were dark, no matter how much he teased and laughed and charmed his way through the days. But now … now she caught herself watching him, thinking about him, listening to him more than usual.
When breakfast was over, he led them through a door in the gate at the back of his yard. “Everyone thinks this hillside can’t be climbed. But the previous owner built a trail.” He laughed. “It takes a while, but it’s worth it.”
Bailey stayed close to Brandon, with the rest of her family following behind. The path zigzagged from one side of the hill to the other, cut into the rocks and protected by a small railing system on the cliff side — otherwise the path couldn’t possibly have been safe. Not when they were a good two hundred feet above the beach.
“Coach Taylor would love to get a hold of this hill.” Connor was behind Bailey. He looked back at the other boys. “Can you see it? ‘Okay, men, let’s run the hill!’”
Shawn and Justin laughed, and their dad stopped, studying the steepness of the path. “Good idea. Maybe we’ll run back up. Just so we can tell him you didn’t miss a day of training.”
“I’m up for it,” Ricky was always first to believe he could compete with the other boys. “Maybe we should run it one at a time and see who’s the fastest.”
Ahead of her, Brandon laughed and shook his head. “My dad would’ve given anything for a son like Ricky. The kid’s competitive from the minute he wakes up.”
The statement reminded Bailey of a time when Brandon had confided in her about his past, how his father had mocked him for liking theater, wishing instead that Brandon would’ve played sports. Back then a hike like this — with half a team of football players — might’ve been tough on Brandon, a reminder of all he hadn’t been as a kid. The ways he had let his father down, however cruel his dad had been.
She put her hand briefly on his shoulder as they headed down. “You were the perfect son, Brandon. You know that.”
He looked back at her, and his smile was warmed by a contentment, a peace that certainly hadn’t been there last year. “You’re right. I know that now.” His eyes took in the boys behind them. “I was born to act. But your brothers … they were born to compete. God makes everyone to carry out different tasks.” He looked forward again, navigating the trail. “I’m good with that. I think my dad’s even good with that now.”
The conversation made Bailey realize how much they had to catch up. She wanted to know about conversations Brandon must’ve had with his parents in the time since he’d become a Christian. But this wasn’t the place to talk about it.
“Don’t leave me behind!” The voice was her mother’s from the back of the caravan. Laughter marked her words, but she was definitely falling back. “My ankles aren’t as strong as all of yours.”
Shawn was the first to stop. He let the others pass and waited for their mom to catch up. “Go ahead.” He motioned the others to keep their pace. “I’ll walk with her.”
Bailey loved that about Shawn. Of the three boys her family had adopted from Haiti, Shawn had the most tender heart — and for good reason. He had been abandoned by his mother, abused and rejected. Now that he had a family who loved him, he was loyal and kind to the core. Bailey wouldn’t be surprised if Shawn wound up in ministry somewhere. He had that sort of heart for people.
“Almost there!” Brandon peered back up the hill. “I love that the paparazzi hasn’t figured out about this path. I’ve only come down here a handful of times, but still … it makes me feel like a regular person.”
“That’s cool.” Connor was close enough that he could hear Brandon. “I like how you handle the pressure. You make it look possible.”
“Connor’s thinking about acting.” Bailey could feel the downhill climb in the back of her legs, and she loved it. She hadn’t thought they’d have time for a workout today. “We talked about it this morning.”
“Really?” Brandon looked back at him. “That’s great, man. Let me know when you’re ready. I can hook you up with an agent.”
They reached the beach, and the expanse of sand was all but empty. “Is this … is it private?”
“It’s called Paradise Beach,” Brandon scanned the distance, probably making sure there were no photographers lurking anywhere. “It’s part of Malibu, and it’s open to the public. But it’s more private. Too hard to get to.”
“I love it.” Bailey kicked off her tennis shoes and worked her toes into the warm sand. “I’d be down here every day.”
“Until the paparazzi figured it out.” Brandon stared back up the hillside, waiting until everyone in Bailey’s family was safely down the trail. “So far, so good.”
They walked to the water and played in the surf and searched for sand dollars on the damp shore. The sun was warm, but here on the beach the water was colder than it looked. Way too cold to swim without a wetsuit. Bailey walked out to where the water was knee deep, and suddenly from behind her she heard someone run up and grab her by the arm.
“Come on, Miss Bailey … let’s get wet!”
Bailey made a sound that was part laugh, part scream. “No … the water’s freezing!”
“It’s not that bad.” Brandon tugged at her, leading her toward the frothy surf. Water splashed up onto her shorts, and in the distance she could see her family watching, laughing at the possibility that Bailey might get tossed into the ocean even for a few seconds. The water was so cold it burned against her legs, and she turned to Brandon, pleading with her eyes. “Please … it’s too cold!”
He looked into her eyes, and even here with everyone watching she could feel the connection, a connection that went straight to her soul. “Bailey … I’m kidding.” He stopped pulling her, but he still held on. With his other hand, he presented her with the most perfect sand dollar she’d ever seen. “This is for you.”
She took it, walking slowly back to more shallow water. “Brandon … thank you.”
“I want you to remember this weekend,” he kept his pace even with hers. The sunlight made it hard to see, but even squinting his eyes held hers. “So that maybe someday … you’ll come back and hang out with me again.”
The sand dollar fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, and she knew that she’d keep it as long as she lived. She smiled at him. “I won’t forget … I promise.”
Their time at the beach was over, and like their dad suggested, the boys all ran the path back to Brandon’s house. Brandon and Bailey brought up the rear, walking slowly so that Bailey’s mom wouldn’t be left behind. She shivered a little, because her shirt was damp from the splash of the waves — and because of the nearness of Brandon and her changing feelings for him.
He must’ve noticed, because he put his arm casually around her and then gave her a helpless look. “I have to keep you warm, right?”
“Right.” She wasn’t going to argue with him. He had been very respectful, and now she couldn’t help but enjoy how it felt to walk the path with Brandon beside her, his arm around her.
“You think I’m kidding, don’t you?”
Their pace was slower than before … like neither of them wanted to rush this moment. She looked at him, letting her gaze hang on his for a few seconds. “About what?”
He hesitated, clearly not willing to rush ahead, making sure the impact of what he was about to say wasn’t lost on the ocean breeze. “About us …”
She sighed. “Brandon … you know how I feel.”
“That was before.” He tightened the hold he had on her, ever so slightly. “When you had a boyfriend.”
His point was a good one. Back then she’d had a reason to resist his charm, to discourage him when he acted interested in her. But now … She stared at the dusty, rocky path … searching for the right words. “I guess … I never think you’re really serious.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I mean … you have a lot of girls, Brandon.”
“No.” He shook his head, and again she saw something very different in his expression, a wisdom and maturity that told her he was being utterly honest. “I haven’t dated once since we finished filming. I figured I needed time with God, time to see what He wanted from me the next time I fell in love.”
If he wanted to melt her heart, his words were right on. She allowed a soft laugh. “When did you become so amazing, Brandon Paul?” She angled her head, searching his heart, his soul. The path beneath her feet felt less solid than before — like she was walking on air.
“You want to know the truth, Bailey?” He stopped and faced her. He was just ahead of her, and as he looked down at her, the vulnerability in his eyes was both raw and real. The rest of her family was nearing the top of the path, so they were alone now — the two of them on a Malibu hillside, the ocean spread out below them. He brought his hand to her cheek, a show of tenderness more than anything else. “The truth is I’ve been looking forward to this ever since the last time we were together. Asking God … if He’d make me into the sort of guy you could fall in love with.”
Bailey’s head began to spin, so much that she covered Brandon’s hand with her own and steadied herself. Was she dreaming? Could this really be happening? She had come to Los Angeles for a premiere and some time with an old friend — nothing more. But now she could see that Brandon was serious. And for the first time since she’d met the young actor, she had to actually consider what he was saying. “Brandon, I … I’m not sure what to say.”
For a moment, he looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never known a girl like you, Bailey.” He glanced back at his house on the hillside and the ocean behind her. “My life’s crazy and different and very public … I know that. But what would it take … I mean, really?” His voice mixed with the warm breeze and she couldn’t tell what smelled better: his cologne or the honeysuckle on the mountainside. He smiled at her, warming every cold place left in her heart. “This weekend … at least consider the possibility.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it—gently, tenderly. “Okay, Bailey?”
She could barely draw a breath. This wasn’t a dream, it was happening. And Brandon was waiting for an answer. “You really mean it,” her voice was soft, spoken from her heart to his. “Don’t you?”
Again he ran his hand along her hair, her cheek. “With everything I am.”
For a moment, she wished he would kiss her. Because what could be more romantic than sharing a sweet, innocent kiss here with Brandon, a guy who had been her friend, and who now was admitting he had deeper feelings for her. But Brandon didn’t try to kiss her, and deep inside Bailey was grateful. God might be leading her toward a relationship with Brandon — she wasn’t sure. But He wouldn’t want them to kiss just because to do so would feel wonderful and romantic and unforgettable. The closeness between them was enough for now.
He pulled her into a hug and held her for a long time. “Just think about it.”
She waited, listening to his heartbeat as it kept time with the pounding surf below. “I will.” She pulled back and found his eyes again. “I promise.” Their hug lasted another half a minute, and then Brandon kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get back up. We have about two hours to get ready for tonight.”
Bailey nodded and they continued up the hillside. Brandon was right — they had a lunch scheduled with the team handling distribution — and a meet-and-greet with the studio staff and executives. After that there would be an early dinner with Brandon’s agent, and interviews with a few key media representatives. Then it would be time to walk the red carpet, time to sit next to Brandon in a dark theater full of Hollywood’s elite and watch the movie they’d made together.
Suddenly everything about the coming hours seemed more exciting than Bailey could’ve dreamed a few days ago. Because today there were possibilities that God had only just now begun to present … waves that were appearing on the horizon that had never been there before. And for all Bailey knew, this new twist, these new feelings might mean the one thing she’d prayed about earlier that morning was already happening.
The perfect wave might even now be taking shape.