Just she and her mom talking like they’d always been able to do.
Her mom would’ve known what to say, and together they could’ve discussed what in the world Bailey was doing in LA and where she would wind up if she stayed. Her breathing came faster, and she could hear her heartbeat pounding, almost as if she were being chased.
She lifted her head and stared out at the water. What am I doing here, God?
My daughter, I am with you … Be still … Listen to my voice.
Bailey straightened slowly, her eyes on the horizon. God often spoke to her through quiet certainties in her heart or Scripture verses. But here it was like His voice was in the wind, His eyes directly on her, His hands on her shoulders. She exhaled and felt her heart rate ease a little. Okay, God … what do you want me to hear? What are you saying?
She waited, but this time there was only the sound of the breeze. Then gradually, thoughts began taking root in her mind. And this time, rather than flitting through her heart, they stayed. Like billboards in her soul. A sudden slew of doubts overwhelming in their intensity.
Maybe after Hairspray closed its doors, she should’ve taken more time. Looked a little longer. Really prayed about God’s next move for her. And when she decided to leave, she should’ve spent more time at home. She didn’t need to be with Brandon every spare hour. She needed to seek God’s plan for her life, pray longer about her next career move. She and Brandon had handled having a long-distance relationship before. Certainly she could’ve waited a few months before moving to LA. Then a thought came that seemed more significant than the others: her decision to take the movie role had been rushed. Even though at the time the part had seemed hand-delivered by God.
Bailey leaned into the railing and suddenly she knew, without a doubt, her next move. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and called the one person she could share all her doubts and uneasiness with. The one who had known her and guided her and listened to her and loved her all of her life.
Her mom.
She waited while the phone rang, and just before it might’ve gone to voicemail, her mother picked up. “Hi, honey … how are you?” Jenny Flanigan knew about Bailey’s meeting that morning, so she sounded upbeat, hopeful.
“Not good.” Bailey felt the tears again. The steady ocean breeze made her eyes sting. She swallowed hard, wishing once more that she was home in Bloomington. “They changed the script.”
“Hmmm.” Bailey’s mom sounded surprised, but not overly so. “That’s what the meeting was about?”
“Not really. The producer talked around the topic, but then he handed out these completely new scripts.” Bailey blinked and two tears rolled down her cheeks. “Not that I ever read the entire script before, but now … Mom, the story is awful. Totally different than they told me it would be.” She took a shaky breath and launched into a ninety-second explanation of how she’d gone to the beach to read the script and how the story had been changed and the fact that now — combined with so many other moments and meetings — she was doubting everything about the last few months. She wiped at her tears, frustrated. “The whole thing makes me so mad. I mean, I moved here for this part.”
Her mom allowed a few seconds of silence. “I’m sorry. I really am.” Again she waited, and Bailey knew she was being careful not to hurry into a teaching moment. “I guess I never thought you moved there for that one part.”
A group of college-age girls walked along the sand in her direction, five of them laughing and clearly caught up in some story. Bailey took a few steps back and leaned against the wall of the lifeguard station, fading into the shadows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I thought you moved there for Brandon.”
“Well, yeah. Of course. That too.” Bailey let the statement shake up her certainties for a few seconds. “I love him. But we were handling having a long-distance relationship.”
“I know. I understand that.” Her mom sounded kind, as always, her tone warm with patience. “But you’ve dreamed of dancing on Broadway all your life. And, yes, maybe you had your time and maybe you were ready for something else. But when the show closed, you still had a great setup with the Kellers, right?”
“Yes.” Bailey ordered herself not to be defensive about the direction her mom was headed here. “No musicals were auditioning.”
“Then maybe that would’ve been a chance to come home and take a month to see where God was leading. Finish up a couple of your online classes and pray about what might be next.” She paused. “Instead Brandon knew of a part, Dayne and Katy had a room, and almost immediately you moved to LA. I know you love Brandon, honey. But have you ever thought maybe it all happened a little fast?”
Bailey stared at the blue sky overhead. “Yes. More than I want to admit.” Fresh tears filled her heart, but she refused them. She had to stay controlled so she could focus on her next step. “Right now I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“I haven’t sensed you were at peace about it.” Her mom’s tone remained gentle. “I guess I wanted the realization to come from you.”
Bailey used the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks. “Even though I was so sure God had brought me this opportunity.” She felt an ache deep in her heart. She’d never experienced something like this. The certainty of believing something was a blessing from God only to see it turn into a mass of confusion.
“You’re crying.” The compassion in her mom’s voice rang strong. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be there.”
“Me too.” Her words sounded small, buried beneath the hurt in her heart. She pinched the bridge of her nose, the sadness spreading through her. “I wish God would give the answers.”
“He will.”
The thought of staying in LA made her feel terrible. But the thought of leaving Brandon … she squeezed her eyes shut and fought a series of small sobs. “I want to come home, but I’m not sure if that’s the right decision.” She hesitated. “I should probably try to make it work here. I mean, I chose this — whether that was the right decision or not. Like maybe give it six months at least.”
“That makes sense.” Her mom’s brief silence felt thoughtful. “It’s something only you and God can decide, honey.”
They talked a few more minutes, and Bailey’s tears eased up, though the sting of salt in her eyes and on her cheeks remained. Before the call ended, her mom gave her a Bible verse. “It’s from Proverbs 16:9.” The sound of pages turning came across the phone line. “Here it is. ‘In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.’”
The Scripture resonated as if God Himself were speaking to her. Along the beach, the college girls were closer now, their voices loud as they carried on the wind. For a long time Bailey remained quiet, watching the girls and remembering when she’d been at Indiana University. It felt like a lifetime ago, back when she and Andi Ellison first became friends. True friends didn’t come easily.
“You’re quiet.” Her mom’s concern filled her tone. “What do you think of the verse?”
“It’s confusing.” She walked to the railing again and watched the girls head away from her. Her words came slow and measured. Like she was still convincing herself. “I thought God had led me to Los Angeles. But maybe it was just me planning out my course. You know, so I could be with Brandon.”
“And maybe in time being there with him is the right place, the right answer.”
“I don’t know. I have a lot to think about.” Bailey let the possibility sway in the early afternoon air, just within reach. “I need to pray.” She wiped at a stray tear. “I love Brandon too much to leave. But here … this life — it isn’t what I really want.”
“I understand.” Her mom’s voice wrapped around her like the hug she needed. “Hearing God’s voice … following His lead … it’s not an exact science.”
Bailey agreed, and a strange kind of fear breathed ice-cold against her heart. She still didn’t know what she was supposed to do next. Without the f
ilm, what would she do in Los Angeles? Was this her chance to write the book she’d been dreaming about lately? The one for teen girls? And wouldn’t it be easier to do that from Indiana, where she wouldn’t be hounded by paparazzi? But no matter how much of an escape Bloomington might be, how could she even consider leaving Brandon?
She stood a little taller and tried to find a new level of courage, a brand-new sort of resolve. “I love you, Mom. Thanks.” She knew what she had to do next. She needed to talk to Brandon. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You too.” For the first time in the phone call Bailey heard a smile in her mother’s tone. “I love you, honey.”
The call ended and Bailey didn’t hesitate, didn’t fight it or second-guess herself. Instead she found a number that had only been in her phone a short while. The number for the producer. This call would be easy. It was the conversation with Brandon she couldn’t bear to think about.
After being passed from one secretary to another, the voice of Mel Kamp came on the line. “Hello? Bailey?”
“Yes, sir.” She steadied herself. “I’m afraid I have bad news …”
Four
CODY COLEMAN GLANCED AT THE SLEEPING FIGURE OF HIS STAR running back in the passenger seat beside him and smiled. DeMetri Smith had already committed to a scholarship at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia. But the kid had never been to the campus, ten hours away. When DeMetri asked about making the trip together, Cody didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend spring break. After all, DeMetri had lived with him for most of the past year. He was the only father figure the boy knew.
So the trip had come together. While most of Cody’s players headed to lakes or fishing spots with their dads or grandpas, Cody and his star running back would spend a few days touring campus and meeting administrators and teachers. Class was in session for Liberty, and their visit coincided with CFAW — College for a Weekend — a special event for incoming students.
The winding roads and rolling hills outside Roanoke kept the drive interesting and as of the last road sign they were an hour away from Lynchburg. A hundred miles ago DeMetri had fallen asleep, but Cody didn’t mind the break. DeMetri talked almost as fast as he ran the football, and since their predawn departure from Indianapolis, he’d been chockfull of conversation. Now Cody turned up the music and fixed his mind on the drive. His prosthetic lower leg ached the way it did on long road trips, but if he shifted often enough he could handle the pain. Most times he didn’t even remember the injury he’d gotten while finishing a tour of duty in Iraq. He rubbed the area beneath his knee and slid a few inches toward the right side of the seat. As he did, the pain let up.
The time passed quickly, and five minutes outside of Liberty, DeMetri woke up. “Coach!” He craned his neck as they blew by a road sign announcing Lynchburg, home of the Liberty Flames. “We’re here! We’re in Lynchburg!”
“We are.” Cody had one hand on the wheel, the other around a cold cup of coffee. A year from now he would miss DeMetri’s enthusiasm for sure. “Another couple miles to the campus.”
DeMetri sat back hard and stared straight ahead, his smile suddenly gone. “What do you think I should expect, Coach? Do you think the kids will be friendly? You know, like they are back in Lyle?”
“It’ll take a while to meet people.” Cody chuckled. “But then again …” He shot a quick look at DeMetri. “But then again, the way you are, you could probably have a hundred friends in a week.”
The kid nodded, like that sounded about right. But then his eyebrows formed a V. “You’re kidding, right, Coach?”
“Okay, maybe fifty.” Cody elbowed his player lightly. “You’ll be fine, Smitty. You won’t have a problem. I promise.”
The conversation fell off as they exited at Candlers Mountain Drive and turned right toward the entrance. They passed East Campus on the left, the newer section of the school where highend townhouse dorms sat nestled at the base of the mountain. “Those are not dorms!” DeMetri’s eyes grew wide as he leaned over his knees to see out Cody’s window. “Man, remind me again why we didn’t sign up for East Campus housing?”
“It was too expensive.” Cody laughed again. “Besides, the freshmen are usually in the other dorms.” Cody had helped DeMetri through every step of the application process, from his scholarship paperwork to choosing housing. Liberty had offered to pay for everything except books. And Cody had already taken care of that — putting a credit on DeMetri’s account for books and whatever extras he might need.
They turned right at the bridge and headed toward the campus Barnes and Noble, where they’d arranged to meet Charles Bigsby. In the days since Smitty’s original acceptance, he’d made yet another decision. He would play football for the Flames, but he wanted to study worship, maybe lead music at a church back in Indiana someday. And Bigsby was easily the nation’s premier worship leader. He had helped start the worship center at Liberty.
As they parked, Cody saw Mr. Bigsby on the top step of the bookstore. But DeMetri was looking in the opposite direction, toward the football stadium. “Did you get a look at that place, Coach? Looks like a pro stadium!” He paused. “Not that I’ve seen a pro stadium, but still … that has to be better than the usual college fields. The place is beautiful. Can you imagine playing football there, Coach?”
“Smitty.”
“Look at the field house! Who has pillars on their field house?”
Cody laughed and managed to sound a little more stern at the same time. “Smitty, Mr. Bigsby’s waiting.”
That seemed to snap him out of it. “What?” He gasped and grabbed the truck’s door handle. “Come on, Coach! What are you doing? We can’t keep the man waiting!”
“Yeah, I forgot. I’m holding us up.” Cody laughed. He was going to miss DeMetri more than any kid at Lyle. That much was certain.
The campus tour revealed one incredible location after another. DeMetri couldn’t stop talking, and Charles seemed to love the kid’s enthusiasm. They started at the stadium and made their way to the student union and then to DeMoss Hall. Since it was a school day, class was still in session, and Charles took them to a freshman English class on the first floor. “Go take a seat at the back of the room. The professor knows you’ll be observing.” He grinned at Cody. “You’re in charge after that. Explore. Take a look at the Vine Center and any of the other buildings.” He promised to be at the Center for Worship, where they would end up when they were done looking around.
“This is so cool.” DeMetri looked over his shoulder at the English room filling up with students. “I can pretend I’m a freshman.”
“Absolutely.” Charles chuckled. “I think you’ll do just fine at Liberty, DeMetri.”
Not until they sat down in the back row did Cody look around the room. It held a couple hundred seats, and with the professor already at the lectern up front, the rows were nearly filled. College kids, ready to take the world by storm.
Something caught his attention near the opposite wall. A girl with long brown hair that fell in soft layers around her shoulders and down her back. A girl who, if this were Indiana University three years ago, could’ve passed for Bailey Flanigan. She sat down next to a tall kid built like a linebacker. Probably played for the Flames.
Cody watched them, the way he angled his head in close to hers, the adoring expression on her face as they shared a few words before the professor began. Why hadn’t he treated Bailey like that? He’d been so busy walking the other way that he never stopped to look at her. Really look at her.
He narrowed his eyes, watching the couple. Bailey never would’ve judged him for having a mother in prison. Never would’ve pinned his mother’s failures on him. And not for a minute would she have believed his past might define him forever. If only he had believed back then the truth about having a new life in Christ. A new life perfectly deserving of a girl like Bailey.
But he hadn’t believed it then, and sometimes he struggled to believe it now. Stil
l, for just a minute, he wanted to think he was that guy across the room, that the girl was Bailey, and that he’d figured it out in time. Long before it was too late.
“Coach?” DeMetri whispered in a loud voice. “You in some sort of spacey place or what?”
“Hmm.” Cody turned to the kid. “What?”
“Come on, Coach.” DeMitri didn’t miss much, and this was no exception. He kept the whisper. “That chick looks like your Bailey girl. That what you’re thinking?”
“Nah.” Cody made a face as if to say DeMetri wasn’t even close.
“Coach. Don’t mess with me.”
“I’m not. She looks nothing like her.” Cody looked back at the girl and then at DeMetri. Then he winked at him. “Okay, maybe a little.”
The professor took the podium, positioned his ear mic, and launched into a ten-minute discourse on hyperbole. When he came up for air, DeMetri motioned to the door. Cody nodded and led the way quietly out of the classroom.
Outside the room, DeMetri kept his voice low. “Let’s go that way.” He pointed to a courtyard behind the building. When they were outside, DeMetri stretched his hands over his head and let loose an exaggerated sound of relief. “I mean, how much can a man talk about hyperbole?”
Cody laughed. “He takes his English seriously.”
“Me too, but really?” DeMetri shaded his eyes. “Looks like food in that other building.”
They walked past a fountain and several picnic tables of students and headed into the cafeteria. After buying a couple platefuls of tacos, they went back to the courtyard and found a table. As soon as they were seated across from each other, Cody leaned on his forearms. “So what did you think?”
DeMetri opened his taco wrapper and wrinkled his brow. “About how that girl looked like Bailey?”
“About the class.”
“Actually, I have a thought about Bailey.”
Cody smiled. There was no reigning the kid in. “Okay … what’s your thought?”