Twenty
BAILEY REACHED TO THE BACK OF HER LOWER DESK DRAWER, amazed at the junk she’d managed to cram inside it. This Saturday she had set aside the whole morning and most of the afternoon to go through her things, figure out what needed to be tossed or given away, and what needed to make the trip with her to New York. Her dad was at practice with the Colts and her mom was getting the boys started with their homework, and then she’d be up to help.
She was playing Taylor Swift for the occasion … especially the song that spoke most to her right now. A song called “Never Grow Up.” The idea that someday soon she’d be in a different state, a new city … a new home without her family nearby was sometimes more than Bailey could take. She could give in to tears at any time if she thought about all she was going to miss.
But right now she didn’t have time to cry. She only had a week before she moved, and her room was a disaster. Not only that, but she still had no housing lined up. The uncertainties were enough to make her stay awake at night, and sometimes Bailey would lie in bed staring at the ceiling, tossing from one side to the other wondering if she were crazy to take the job.
Mornings were better. A breeze drifted through her open window. She would be fine. God would work out the housing, because He had opened this door, after all. If she needed to stay in a hotel at first, her parents had said she could do that. They’d help with the costs until Bailey was making a paycheck.
Dear Lord … how am I supposed to go through all this?
She blew at a wisp of her hair and doubled her efforts to clean her room. All around her were stacks of her belongings. Clothing she’d give away to the church’s Closet Essentials ministry, and old shoes that had long since seen their last day. One box held books she’d collected over the years and another held devotions and notebooks full of her thoughts on love and various Bible verses. She still wasn’t sure exactly what she was taking to New York City. She’d been on the phone with one of Hairspray’s assistant producers, and he’d assured her he was looking for housing. But until he found something, she wasn’t even sure how much space she’d have.
“You want to walk to work, right?” he’d asked her that morning. “No tunnels or subways?”
“If possible.” She and her mom had talked about what would be safest, and they’d decided that living with someone in the city made the most sense. Fewer places where she’d have to stand and wait by herself every day of the week. Bailey thanked the man for working on the situation.
“I do have something that might work,” he sounded lost in thought, and she could hear him turning pages of a document. “It looks like three of the dancers share a flat not far from the theater. They’re looking for a fourth person to share costs with.”
Bailey had ten questions immediately, but she only asked one. “Would I have my own bedroom?”
The man paused and a jaded laugh sounded across the phone line. “I don’t know anyone with their own bedroom. With those girls it’d be more like a cold spot on the floor. They don’t share their beds with broads,” he snickered. “If you know what I mean.”
She figured he meant the girls were straight. But his comment brought up another concern. If the girls shared their beds at all, the situation wasn’t okay with Bailey. Her mom and dad would rent her a place by herself and hire a bodyguard to get her to and from work each night if that’s what it took. “Let’s forget about that setup,” Bailey kept her voice kind. The man meant well. “I really would like my own room. And I don’t have to live with dancers. It can be a family … a couple … that sort of thing.”
“Oh, right,” the man chuckled. “I forgot. You’re the girl with money and connections.”
The comment hit Bailey like a slap in the face. Especially in light of the comments from some of the dancers at the audition. Like she hadn’t really earned her place on the cast. She wasn’t sure what to say to the man, but he didn’t seem to notice her hesitation.
He began rattling off boroughs almost like he was talking to himself. “Anyway, I’ll keep looking.”
Now Bailey was surrounded by boxes and piles of her things, and still she didn’t know where she was going to live. Her entire family was praying about the situation … and her dad had taken the prayer to a new level last night. She smiled as his words ran again in her mind. “Father, we trust You with Bailey … and we believe You’re working out her housing situation even at this moment. But we ask for more than a safe place to live, Lord. We ask that You place Bailey in a home where she can learn from the people she’s living with … and they can learn from her.”
Bailey loved the idea, and even now her father’s words helped her dismiss the comment by the assistant producer about her money and connections. Instead she focused on the very real possibility that this next season in life might not only be about learning how to work on Broadway and how to live in the city, but learning from the people around her. She looked at the chaos that made up her room. Every picture, every scrap of paper … all of it meant something. And now it was time to sort through it and take what mattered most. As sad as today would be at times, in light of her dad’s prayer she was beyond thrilled for what lay ahead.
She pushed her hand to the back of the desk drawer again, and this time she pulled out a journal. An old one she must’ve hidden here years ago. Bailey squinted at the cover, trying to remember how long ago she’d written in this book. It was faded pink and white, with butterflies fluttering across the top corner. Across the middle it read, “For I know the plans I have for you … to give you a hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11.”
Bailey smiled and ran her thumb over the worn cover. The Scripture was her favorite, the one her parents had taught her when she was very young. The one she still clung to when life didn’t make sense. She opened the book and her eyes fell on a random entry somewhere near the middle.
Dear Lord … thank You so much for saving Cody. For getting his attention and helping him see how much he needs You. He’s changed, God. I can see it. When we talk, he’s so nice to me. And he told me not to ever settle for a guy like Bryan Smythe, because I’m worth so much more than how Bryan treats me.
I don’t know, God. When Cody talks to me like that I sometimes feel like I’m falling for him … like You saved him for me, Lord. I mean, I know I have to grow up a little and we have a lot of life ahead. But I catch him looking at me sometimes, and even though we’re friends, I think he cares for me more than that. Like I’m more than Coach Flanigan’s daughter.
Bailey’s heart melted as she read the words, as they filled her heart and reminded her of the way she’d felt back then. Cody had been so careful. He lived with them, and at first he had so many troubles she never would’ve considered that he might be the guy for her. He almost drank himself to death at one point, but God saved him.
She had written this journal entry some time after he was released from the hospital. Because almost immediately he had started alcohol awareness classes, and he and Bailey’s dad had begun a Bible study. She closed the journal and tried to remember how she felt, so young and unsure of herself. Cody had been very aware, certain never to say or do anything that might be misconstrued as flirtatious or suggestive. He treated her with the utmost respect, and he always had.
So much so that when he joined the Army after high school and left for the war, Bailey wasn’t sure if he saw her as anything more than a friend. Then, when he returned—wounded after his escape from captivity — he kept his distance. Even told her she should date Tim Reed. How was she supposed to think he had feelings for her when that’s how he had acted?
Still … she believed. Every time they were together, any time they talked or shared a walk back from their Campus Crusade meetings, Bailey was certain she saw something more in his eyes. But it wasn’t until last Fourth of July that finally he opened up about how he felt. By then she’d broken up with Tim, and with all her heart she believed she and Cody would never be apart again.
But she won the part opposite Brandon Paul in Unlocked, and Cody became busy. Almost like he didn’t want to be part of her life if she were going to be in the limelight. His distance troubled her and angered her, and finally — when the movie wrapped and after Christmas break — Bailey went to Indianapolis and found out what had happened. His mother had been arrested for drug use again.
This was Cody’s constant demon, the reason he never thought he was good enough to date her. Because he was the son of a drug addict. It was the reason he had lived with them in the first place, because Cassie Coleman was in prison through most of Cody’s high school days.
Something else must’ve happened too. But Bailey had never figured it out. Because she had told him a dozen times that she didn’t care what decisions his mother made. They could visit her together, pray for her together. Cody loved her like no one ever would — Bailey believed that. So then why—the last time they were together on her parents’ porch last November — did he imply things were over? That he had to move on?
She thumbed through the journal again, but no answers jumped out. Either way, she would save the book. Maybe someday alone in New York she could pull it out and read it again. Maybe it would help her understand how she had fallen so completely in love with him, and why she wasn’t able to let him go.
Downstairs the doorbell rang through the house, but Bailey didn’t get up. Probably Mrs. Johnson from next door or one of the neighborhood boys looking for a pick-up game of basketball. One of them would get it. She tucked the old journal safely in a box of must-keep items and dug through her desk drawer again.
Old math papers, history notes … a long lost science book. She pulled out everything left in the drawer and spread it on the floor in front of her. “Trash … trash … trash …” she muttered. It felt good to scrunch up the papers that had once taken so much time and toss them in the black garbage bag a few feet away. “Now Mr. Science book, you’re another story. I should probably have Connor take you back to school where someone else can have fun with you.”
“Hmmm. Looks like I’m just in time.”
She gasped.
It couldn’t be. But it sounded like the voice was … Bailey whipped around and, yes, there he was at the open bedroom door: Brandon Paul, looking like he did on the balcony overlooking the beach. He held his hands out, grinning in a way that made her realize how much she’d missed him. “Surprise!”
Suddenly she was on her feet rushing to him, the two of them coming together in a hug that almost knocked him down and left both of them laughing. “What in the world?” She felt the heat in her cheeks, but she didn’t care. He had really done it. He had flown to Indiana and now he was here, right in the middle of her messy room.
“I told you I’d come help.” His grin lit up his whole face as he held onto her, still hugging her. “Your mom said to tell you she’d be right up.” He kissed her cheek and then stepped back, surveying the room. “She said you needed all the help you can get, and wow …” He raised his brow at the piles of belongings strewn across the floor. “I guess she’s right.”
“She is.” Bailey let her shoulders sink as she studied the space around them. “It’s terrible in here.”
“What color’s the carpet, anyway?”
A hand towel lay across the edge of her bed and she grabbed it, flicking at him. “Stop.” She laughed at the situation, the hours she still had ahead of her. “It’s not always like this.”
“All right then,” he made an exaggerated move of rolling up his sleeves. “Where do I begin?”
The truth was, he couldn’t do much. She had to go through every item, since only she could decide whether it was something she should keep, move to New York, or get rid of. “You know … I’m not sure there’s anything you can really do.”
“I bet there is.” He looked around and scratched his head, still being overly dramatic about the job they needed to do. “How about I wait until your mom’s here. Maybe she’ll know some way we can work together. Teamwork, right? Isn’t that what your dad’s always telling his players?”
An idea hit, just as she was about to agree with him. “We could take the trash out.”
“Yes, perfect.” He nodded, his brow raised again. “That would at least give us a place to stand.”
They both laughed, and she pointed out the bigger of the two trash bags. Brandon picked up that one, and she took the other. As they headed downstairs, even while they were still laughing, a tenderness stirred within her. He had really done this, and at a time when he was finishing up a movie. Break or no break, it was a tremendous thing to fly from LA to Indianapolis and drive to Bloomington — all so he could help her pack.
Downstairs they talked to her mom and brothers for a few minutes. Her mom and the boys had been in on the surprise. “Brandon wanted to make sure you’d be here.” Her mom was working with Justin on his algebra.
“So you’ve known for a few days or what?” Bailey shot laughing eyes at Brandon and then back at her mom. “Did he set the whole thing up last week?”
“Oh, no.” Her mom shared a look with the boys. “He set it up an hour ago. That’s the first we knew about it.”
Brandon shrugged, his look all innocent teasing. “It seemed like a good day to help pack.”
“I love that!” Ricky’s exuberance added to the joy of the moment. “Just get on a plane and go wherever you want.” He looked at their mother. “I want to be like that when I’m older.”
“Sure, buddy.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “Anytime you want to hop a plane to help someone clean their room, I’m all for it.”
Bailey led Brandon outside to the place on the side of the house where they kept the family’s trash cans. The connection they’d shared in Los Angeles was still there, still making her dizzy enough to wonder at what point she should start taking her feelings seriously. No matter how crazy his life might be.
He lifted his bag over his head, and the action showed off the definition in his shoulders. Brandon wasn’t quite six feet tall, but he was fit and his face was one girls around the whole world clamored to see. Bailey stayed close behind him, watching him, trying to take stock of her feelings.
As he reached the side of the house, he held the trash bag with one hand and lifted the lid of the oversized bin with the other. He easily dumped the contents into the bin and then did the same with her bag. Then he wadded them both up. “You still want to use these?”
“Yes.” She winced. “I have a feeling there’s still more trash up there.”
He laughed. “You think? We could use heavy equipment for a day and still come up with more.” His laugh filled the air around them. Brandon loved to laugh. It was one of the things that drew her to him from the beginning — the fact that he laughed easily.
They walked around the corner and up onto the porch that ran along the front of the house. Halfway to the front door he set the bags down and turned to her. “Do you know how amazing this feels? Being here with you?”
“It feels perfect.” She caught his hands in her own and squeezed them, the way friends sometimes did. “And it feels crazy all at the same time.”
His laughter quieted and he looked into her eyes for a long moment. “I missed you, Bailey. I don’t know …” He breathed in sharply through his nose and turned toward their vast front yard. He seemed to take in the trees that lined the driveway and the pretty bushes flowering along the edges of their seven acres. Maybe even the fact that there were no cameramen running up to snap their pictures. “I’m not sure I can go back.”
“When do you leave?” She hadn’t wanted to ask because she knew the answer — he couldn’t stay long. Not when he was in the middle of filming a movie.
“Tomorrow morning.” He narrowed his eyes, as if he were trying to see to the deepest places in her soul. “But I need a week at least. Maybe two.” He hesitated and put one of his hands on her shoulder. “Maybe a whole lot longer than that.” His voice fell to a whisper. “Let me stay, Bailey … I don’t want to say goodbye again.”
“Hmmm …” A part of her wanted to believe him. As if he could walk away from Hollywood and she could walk away from
Broadway, and they might find a simple, satisfying life here in Bloomington. She could forget about Cody Coleman and together they could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But the idea brought with it a sad reality check. “Ahh, Brandon … come on.” She looked around for a few seconds and then turned her eyes back to his. “This would never be enough for you.” She put her arm around his neck, careful not to stand too close to him. “I love this … being with you. But it’s not the answer. You flying out on a whim to help me pack. Moments like this …” She tilted her head, hoping he could see her sincerity. “They would be rare … the world wants too much of you, Brandon.”
“Here’s the thing,” he put his other arm around her and still maintained the space between them. They probably looked like a middle school couple slow-dancing in the gym. “No matter what you say, I’ve thought it through.” His eyes shone, and this time there was no question he wasn’t teasing. He was serious. The way he’d been serious on his balcony a few weeks ago. “The next year … yes, it’ll be busy.” He came closer, and his eyes told her he wanted to kiss her. But instead he brushed his cheek against hers the way he’d done before.
“Very busy.”
“Okay, very busy.” He put his hand alongside her face. “But it’s just a year, Bailey. Who knows what’ll happen after that? You only have a year-long contract, right?”
It was something she didn’t think about very often. Most of the time a year felt like forever, but the truth was something he had clearly thought through. A year from now she might move back to Bloomington or maybe even to Hollywood. “They’ve mentioned a second year.”
“Mentioned it.” He nodded, his experience with the entertainment industry written into his expression. “There’s no guarantee in a mention.”
Something about his tone, the look in his eyes made her laugh … and once she started, she couldn’t quickly regain her composure. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Hear myself?” He sounded wounded, but he was back to teasing. The ground where they both felt most comfortable. “Am I stuttering? Or maybe my voice is cracking?” He massaged his throat and made a funny face. Then he touched the tip of his nose to hers. “Of course I can hear myself. If I weren’t making sense you wouldn’t have all that nervous laughter.”
She was about to tell him the conversation was over. They had nothing to talk about, since everything about their futures was so uncertain. Besides, they needed to get in and figure out her room. But before she could say anything, a pickup truck pulled into her driveway. In as much time as it took her to turn and look, she knew it was Cody’s. She would know his truck anywhere.
“What?” Brandon followed her gaze and turned so that he had just one arm around her waist. “Who is it?”
He was almost up to the circle in front of the house before Bailey realized how this must look. Brandon and her, together on the porch, their arms around each other. He was close enough now that she could see his face, his eyes … the guy she could never quite get out of her mind. And he could see her too … the way he’d caught her and Brandon together.
“Hold on.” She pulled away from Brandon and jumped lightly off the two-foot high porch and onto the grass below. But even as she ran toward him, Cody pulled away. He didn’t peel out or race down the driveway, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop. She knew him better than that. Fifteen yards from the house, she stopped and watched him go. She could still see his eyes in the rearview mirror, and she thought about running inside, finding her phone, and calling him.
But Brandon was here, and Cody hadn’t talked to her since January. Four months ago. She could feel Brandon walking up beside her, feel his curiosity and maybe even a little alarm. “Bailey?”
She turned and looked at him, and then back at the pickup truck disappearing over the hill headed out of her neighborhood. “I’m sorry … it’s just …” She turned back to him. She was breathing harder than before, and no amount of acting could hide the pain she felt in her eyes. “I haven’t seen him …”
Brandon came closer, and again he framed her face with his hand, searching her eyes. “Was that him? Was it Cody?”
“Yes.” She hung her head, her emotions wildly conflicting. How could she enjoy the feel of Brandon’s hand against her face and still feel like she was betraying Cody for doing so? She lifted her eyes. “He didn’t call.”
“Hmmm.” Brandon was quiet. “Seems to be a trend today.”
She smiled, but she couldn’t laugh, couldn’t shake the image of Cody driving away again. “I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to run off.”
“But you did.” His eyes told her he wasn’t angry or slighted by her action. But he was aware of what it meant — no question about that. “So the truth, Miss Bailey, isn’t so much that our crazy lives are taking us in different directions.” He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, his eyes full of a longing that seemed deeper than before. “The problem is Cody.” He backed up a step and took her hands in his. “Right?”
With everything in her she wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she was over Cody because he hadn’t cared enough to hold onto her in the first place … that no matter what happened tomorrow, she wasn’t about to let Cody Coleman impact her decisions one way or another. But she couldn’t lie to Brandon. Not now … not ever.
“That’s okay … you don’t have to say anything.” His sad smile was tinged with a fresh determination. “If he’s what I’m up against, I’m ready for the challenge.” He looked over his shoulder at the empty road, and then back at her. “I’ll show you, Bailey … he doesn’t love you like I do.”
His words stirred across her already tender heart. Until now, Brandon hadn’t talked about love … not like this. And she certainly wasn’t ready to respond by telling him she felt the same way.
“Come on,” he nodded toward the front door, his confidence firmly back in place. “Let’s get back to work. Otherwise you’ll never get to New York.” His tone was tender, aware that this was a difficult situation for Bailey. But he also wasn’t going to let her wallow in the moment. This was supposed to be a happy day, and he was clearly going to see that she found her way back to happy again.
She hugged him close, resting her head on his shoulder and begging God to clear up the confusion in her heart. “Okay.” She smiled at him, and he took hold of her hand. Together they walked back to the house, quiet … but without the sense of awkwardness that Cody’s brief visit had brought to their time together.
No matter how badly she wanted to go after Cody, get him back here where they might talk and figure out why he had stayed away for so long, she couldn’t. This day belonged to Brandon. Maybe if they went inside and got back to work in her room … maybe if her mom joined them and they set their minds on the task ahead, they would find the laughter and magic from a few minutes ago. Or at the very least if they went back inside she might be able to shake the image locked in her mind.
The image of Cody Coleman’s eyes in the rearview mirror.