Even Cody Coleman.
She and Andi helped each other into their costumes and then moved into the greenroom where all cast members did their own stage makeup. They sat next to each other at a long row of tables. Each spot had a stand-up mirror, and as Bailey began applying her makeup, she was struck again by the sadness consuming her. Or was it jealousy?
This is all because of Cody, she told herself. Dear God, I know he’s not interested in me as anything more than friend. Help me stop thinking about him. But the moment the quick prayer was over, his face was back in her mind again. Smiling at her, haunting her.
“You okay?” Andi dabbed white powder over her foundation. For the part of Isabelle, she needed to look paler than usual.
“Sure.” She gave Andi an instant smile, almost too instant. “Just thinking about my lines.”
“Oh.” Andi resumed her dabbing. “Okay. You seem kinda quiet.”
“Sorry. I’m like this before the first show.” She smiled again at her friend. “I’m fine. Really.”
Her hurt was something she would only share with God, at least until she had some alone time with her mom. Figuring out her feelings for Cody was hard enough without involving her roommate.
She took a cotton pad and lightly applied thick foundation across her cheeks. Why didn’t he at least ask about her? Cody knew she was in the show, so he could have dropped her a quick text as easily as he’d texted Andi. The occasional random text, like on Thanksgiving, wasn’t enough. Or was he really avoiding her because of Tim?
She began moving too fast, and her foundation streaked. Slow down, she told herself. So what if Cody’s here tonight. The way he’d treated her lately, he was just another guy on a campus of tens of thousands of guys. But even so, she couldn’t shake his image.
She applied another layer of makeup. She needed paler skin for the show. The Ghost of Christmas Past was supposed to have an otherworldly, ethereal look. When she finished, she stepped back. “Definitely ghostlike,” she muttered.
“You look great.” Andi put the finishing touches on her eye shadow. She was pale, but striking. The way Isabelle was supposed to look.
Bailey hadn’t been jealous of her friend’s part since the cast list went up, but here, knowing Cody would be in the audience … For a brief moment she wished she could take the stage in the dress Andi was wearing instead of the velvet cloak assigned to the Ghost of Christmas Past.
They were both studying themselves when she saw Tim enter the room. At least she assumed the guy was Tim. The transformation was that dramatic. He had reported to the theater half an hour earlier to meet with a professional makeup artist, and now he looked sixty years old. His hair was streaked mostly gray and his face looked haggard and wrinkled.
She turned to face him. “That’s amazing. You look totally different.”
“I even talk different.” A few of the other cast members stared at him as he crossed the greenroom. “They put some kind of tightening gel near my mouth so that I’ll sound like an old man.”
“It’s working.” Bailey took a step closer and studied his face. “Seriously, I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I hope not.” He tried to laugh, but it sounded strained with his tight mouth. “This isn’t really the look I’m going for offstage.”
Bailey giggled as Andi faced Tim too. “Definitely Scrooge.” She put her hands on her hips and did a slow twirl. Her dress was pale blue with small white lines of satin. It clung to her upper body, while below her waist it billowed out in soft folds of blue that gracefully hit just below her ankles. With her blonde hair hanging down her back in curls, she was stunning. Any of them could’ve seen that. She grinned at Tim. “What do you think?”
Tim watched her. “Wow.” His stage makeup couldn’t hide the appreciation in his eyes. “Scrooge would’ve been a fool to walk away from you.”
The compliment made Andi blush even through her pale powder. “Why, thank you, Ebenezer.”
Bailey pulled her red velvet cloak around her shoulders and tried not to be bothered by the exchange. She couldn’t blame Tim. His character was motivated largely by the regret he felt in walking away from the woman he’d loved as a young man. Scrooge needed an attraction to Isabelle for the audience to believe the story.
Still, the comment made her feel thick and unattractive. Her cloak came in tight around the neck, but otherwise she would remain shapeless on stage. The only thing that would make her performance stand out was the slight bit of sarcastic humor written into the script. Their director had told her to milk it for all it was worth.
But nothing about the role made her feel pretty.
Tim seemed to realize he hadn’t shown her the same attention he’d shown Andi. He came to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I like your hair that way, curled.” He touched his fingers to the side of her face. “You’re beautiful, Bailey. A vision.”
“In a red velvet cloak?” She made a silly face. “That’s okay. Thanks about my hair though. I like it this way too.”
He gave her a side hug just as the director bounded into the room. “Okay, people. We’ve got a full house.” He chuckled. “Oh, and Dayne Matthews is in the fourth row. This will be a first for my career directing plays at Indiana U.” He made eye contact with Tim and a handful of the other leads. “Let’s give it our best tonight.”
They circled up and he gave them a few reminders. “All right.” He sounded as nervous as any of them. “Everyone take their places.”
Only Tim and the kid playing Bob Cratchet were needed for the first scene, but before he walked onto the stage, Tim looked into her eyes. “All day I kept thinking about you, how this was like CKT and … I guess just how special it is that you’re here.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “That we’re in this together.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” For the first time since she’d met Andi for lunch, Bailey felt her mood lighten. She’d been consumed with Andi and the shady film offer, confused by how a girl raised by missionary parents could actually consider starring in a movie with nudity. Then there’d been the lack of texts from Cody. And the way her costume hung like heavy drapes.
But now, with Tim gazing at her — even though his eyes sagged with artificial wrinkles — she suddenly felt like a princess. A montage of memories from a dozen CKT shows played in her mind. From days when she had dreamed of dating Tim Reed. And now here she was, Tim’s girlfriend, the two of them about to take the stage at Indiana University for the first time. “You’ll be amazing … just like always.”
“You too.” He looked like he wanted to kiss her, but it wasn’t the time or place. Instead he gave her hand a quick squeeze and walked onstage. The orchestra was silent, ready for the cue from the conductor. He gave it and the music began in a beautiful rush of strings and horns, and like that, the air was filled with Christmas.
The opening scene was flawless. Tim was so believable that Bailey and the others couldn’t help but watch from the wings. Bailey had to keep reminding herself that the guy in the counting shop on stage was her nineteen-year-old boyfriend and not the crotchety mean old man he pretended to be. He was that convincing. Tim seemed to pick up steam, getting better still as he was warned by his dead business partner that he would be visited by three additional ghosts.
Bailey and Andi stood in the wings and squeezed hands. “You’ll be great,” Bailey whispered.
“I think I’m sick.” Andi’s eyes were wide.
“You’re not.” Bailey heard her cue but suddenly all she could think about was Cody — where he was sitting and what he was thinking. Whether she would be able to see him from the stage. She pushed his image from her mind. “Gotta go.”
She adjusted her cloak and walked on stage with a sort of floating, waltz-like step. Tim was on his knees looking under the bed for any sign of a ghost, grumbling about the warning being a bunch of nonsense. Before he could stand, Bailey tapped him on the shoulder.
His dramatic reaction received a lou
d bit of laughter from the audience. Bailey remained stoic, straight faced. She had to work to keep herself from listening for Cody’s voice.
“Who are you?” Tim scowled at her, stood, and dusted himself off.
Bailey lifted her chin, proper and poised. “The ghost whose presence was foretold to you.”
Their exchange was brief and well rehearsed. They’d worked on stage together too long to be anything but professional in a moment like this. She led Tim across the stage to where he could watch a scene from his childhood. After that, she ushered in another moment from Scrooge’s past — the dance at Fezziweg’s where Scrooge first falls in love with Isabelle. Andi entered the stage and there was almost a collective gasp at the vision she made. Truly she was stunning.
Andi danced with young Scrooge, and together they sang a perfect duet. Whatever anxiety Andi had felt about this scene, she was in her element now.
After watching the dance come to an end, Tim reached out toward Isabelle, who of course could not see him. Tim’s expression, the longing in his body language, told everyone in the theater he wanted nothing more than a chance to go back in time, back to that moment with Isabelle. Just once more.
The way I feel about Cody, Bailey thought. Again she forced herself back into the scene. But distraction came easily. Bailey’s part required her only to stand alongside Tim and watch the past play out. She had only a handful of words left before the end of her scene. Was Cody mesmerized by Andi the way the rest of the audience must be? She blinked. Focus, Bailey … God, please help me focus.
Tim looked ready to cry as he watched young Scrooge bend on one knee, pull out an engagement ring, and hand it up to a thrilled Isabelle. At the same time, Tim slowly took hold of that same ring, now on a chain around his neck.
“Come.” Bailey took his hand and led him to yet another spot on the stage. This time the scene was far sadder. The saddest in the entire play. Young Scrooge was in the counting house as Andi walked up, dressed the same but with a bonnet and a shawl over her shoulders.
“I’m leaving, Ebenezer.” She delivered her lines like a pro.
For the first few seconds, young Scrooge barely looked up, still counting. But when Andi insisted that where she was going he would not see her anymore, he stopped. “Why? You were going to marry me.”
Tim took a step closer to the action, desperate to stop the younger version of himself. “Don’t let her leave … you fool!”
But Andi tossed the engagement ring onto his counting scale, and with a final few words, she left. Again Bailey caught a glimpse of Tim as he reached out, longing for a way back to yesterday. Anyone would’ve believed he’d been in love with Andi, and that he’d never gotten over her.
The scene ended with another song — a duet between the two Scrooges, one where Andi returned to the stage in a lyrical dance intended to represent her moving farther from his life. Again she was graceful, a vision as she moved across the stage.
Bailey watched her, but she was thinking about Cody again. He’s probably falling in love with her right now, she told herself. What guy wouldn’t be? Her red cloak felt heavier, thicker than before. She must’ve looked like a set piece compared to Andi. A coat rack, maybe.
Tim glanced back at her, as if she could do something to undo the passing of time. Then he turned to Andi once more and launched into his final verse of the song. As it ended, as Andi danced offstage, Tim turned, anguished, to Bailey and took her hand. “Spirit, remove me from this place. I can bear it no more.” The handhold was a plea, an urging from Scrooge, but Tim held her fingers a little longer than they’d rehearsed. His eyes locked onto hers, and though no one from the audience — not even the director — could’ve told he was breaking character in any way, he did. For a flicker in time, the longing in his eyes was as intense as it had been when he stared at Isabelle. Only this was real, Bailey had no doubt. And it was aimed at her.
The incident was over almost as soon as it began, but it left Bailey breathless. She wanted to smile, but she couldn’t, because the Ghost of Christmas Past certainly did not smile. But inside she was giddy. Tim might as well have stopped the action and announced to all the room that Andi couldn’t turn his head. Not when he was in love with Bailey.
She felt herself stand a little taller as the scene wound down and as she delivered her final lines — lines that warned Scrooge to love today, while time still allowed. “There is never enough time to say or do the things you want in this life, never enough time to love the way you want to love,” she told him. “We are only here for a little while, Scrooge, and then we are gone.”
With that, she took the same slow, otherworldly steps off the stage, ignoring Tim’s pleas that she stay with him, that she allow him to live a little longer in the past. As soon as she stepped into the wings, she fell against the wall and remembered the moment with Tim again. Suddenly her own lines came back to her. “Never enough time to love the way you want to love…” So why was she wasting her time thinking about Cody? She was dating an amazing guy, one she’d looked up to all her life. He had none of Cody’s crazy past. He’d never been drunk or slept with a girl, and on top of all that he cared enough to know exactly how she felt in the midst of their scene.
Whatever her feelings for Cody, however she’d been frustrated by him, none of that mattered. Tim was a great guy, and he’d proved that out there on the stage, not caring if anyone caught what he was doing or not. Her heart felt lighter than it had all day.
She removed her red cloak and listened as Tim and the Ghost of Christmas Present sang one of Bailey’s favorite songs from the show. “I like life … life likes me … life and I fairly fully agree …”
Bailey couldn’t agree more. She worried about Andi’s choices, and yes, if Cody fell for her there would be times when Bailey would hurt. But she had Tim, and in light of that sweet moment on stage, she couldn’t be happier.
Tim was wonderful in the final scene of the first act, and Bailey watched his every move, silently cheering for him. As the curtain fell at the beginning of intermission, Bailey waited for him in the shadows.
He started to pass by, the area too dark to make out shapes or people. “Tim,” she whispered as loud as she could without being heard on the other side of the curtain.
“Bailey?” He was out of breath, adrenaline and exhilaration no doubt racing through his veins.
“Here.” She reached out and touched his arm. “You were amazing.”
“You too.”
They couldn’t hang out in the wings for long. The director would expect them to report to the greenroom to hear his notes on the first act and to receive any last-minute direction for the second half of the show. But they had a few minutes at least.
“I mean, I kept believing you were really Scrooge.”
He came nearer, facing her. Even this close and as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked like an old man.
“I love this. I could perform in New York, you know?”
“You could.”
“You too. Seriously, Bailey, you should’ve been Isabelle. You’re so good.”
She should’ve been Isabelle? Bailey opened her mouth to thank him, to tell him that was the exact thing she needed to hear, but the words got jumbled on the way up from her heart. Instead she slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Finally, when she was sure of her voice, she pulled back and searched his eyes. “Thank you.”
Here was further proof that something was building between them, something that hadn’t been there before. Tim didn’t ask what Bailey was thanking him for. He didn’t have to. Instead his voice softened. “I wanted you to know that my character might desire Isabelle —” He brushed his cheek against hers. “But I want you, Bailey. Only you.”
Her heart responded by pounding in her chest, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him. A quick kiss wouldn’t have violated any university theater rule, but again this wasn’t the time. So she eased from his arms and grinned at him. “Come on. We need to g
et back.”
Bailey played a townsperson in the second act, and everyone in the cast gave their all as the show ran down. In the final scene, when Tim sang about being ready to begin again, Bailey wanted to join him. If ever she’d been ready to truly move on it was here, tonight. Not until she was back on stage and staring at a standing ovation did she realize perhaps the most important thing about the night — something that hadn’t happened since the moment Tim looked at her that way in the middle of their scene.
She hadn’t thought about Cody once.
Nine
FROM HIS PLACE IN THE BACK of the theater, Cody watched the actors take the stage for their curtain call. He could’ve been wrong, but he sensed a change in Bailey, something he couldn’t pinpoint or put into words. Up until now, on the rare times when he and Bailey shared a few words or a conversation, he sensed she still had feelings for him.
Just not enough feelings to walk away from Tim Reed.
But now? There seemed to be some new and stronger chemistry between Bailey and Tim, and as the applause began to die down and the houselights came up, Cody watched Tim sling his arm around Bailey’s shoulders, both of them laughing as they walked offstage with the cast.
He looked away. At the other side of the theater near the front were Bailey’s parents and brothers, people who just a year or so ago had been his family. He thought about crossing the theater to say hello, but they would be looking for Tim now. Not him.
“I see you.” His mother leaned in close. She was still clapping, but she made sure he could hear her voice over the noise of the audience.
Cody turned to her, his expression blank. “See what?”
“How you look at her.”
“Andi?” Cody shifted and watched Andi saunter toward the edge of the stage. She was still waving at the crowd. He had told his mom that he and Andi were becoming better friends and that she’d asked him to her opening night. He nodded as his eyes found his mom’s again. “She was beautiful. Perfect.”