Learning (10 page)

Again tears filled Cody’s eyes as he took in the moment. Cheyenne put her hand to her mouth and shook her head. This time she didn’t stop the tears that slid onto her cheeks. “Cody … for me?”

“What can I say?” He gave the guys a thumbs up. “The guys love you.”

After that, the team set the sign down and came to the car. As they did, a few of the guys snapped pictures of Cody and Chey in
his truck. Then each of them took a turn at the window, holding Cheyenne’s hand or telling her they were praying for her. The last guy was Marcos Brown. He handed her a large card sealed in an envelope. Written across the front was Cheyenne’s name. “This is for you … everyone signed it.”

“Thank you.” Cheyenne held out her hand. The action must’ve taken most of her concentration and strength, but she did it anyway. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Cheyenne Williams.”

His smile was shy and a little flustered. “I’m Marcos Brown. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

She took the card and thanked him. And with one more smile, Cody patted her knee and joined his team on the field. The guys worked harder than ever — and though some of them had issues off the field that Cody needed to address, for now he was impressed with the way they gave their all, the effort they applied to every drill, every play. Every time he prayed about the football players at Lyle High, Cody felt the Lord answer him the same way.

Big things were about to happen.

Just a few months ago, these high school boys hadn’t believed they were worthwhile people, let alone football players. Now, though, Cody could sense a change in them. They had purpose and vision and together they were capable of not only winning football games, but of doing well as a team.

The way they had done well today.

When practice was over, he took Cheyenne back to Tara’s house and laughed while Tara encouraged her to eat not one, but two bowls of ice cream. When Tara took a phone call in the other room, Cody turned to Cheyenne.

“We haven’t prayed together in a few days.”

A shyness filled her face. “I … I didn’t want to ask. I know you pray for me all the time.”

“Still … we need to pray together.” Cody clenched his teeth
for a second or two. He shouldn’t have waited so long. Gently he took her hand in his. “Let’s not wait another minute.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes, picturing all the ways Cheyenne still needed a miracle. “Father, we lift Cheyenne to You, and we thank You for the way You’ve healed her so far. We pray now for continued healing, for a miracle that her physical strength will return soon.”

Cheyenne responded with quiet murmurs, agreeing with everything Cody prayed.

When he finished, with their eyes still closed and their hands still joined, Cheyenne took over. “Father, I pray that Cody might know how grateful I am … and that You would continue to grow this bond … whatever this is we share together.”

Cody understood her honesty. They both felt their friendship pushing into new territories. Like she’d told him earlier, she wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even dating, if that’s where this was headed.

“I love when you pray.” He searched her heart … looking for what could’ve possibly caused a girl as damaged as Cheyenne to love God so fully. “Your faith makes me stronger, Chey. It does.”

He helped her to her feet. When they were facing each other, she smiled at him. “Today was perfect.”

“It was.” He put his hands on her shoulders, remembering again how his team had surprised her. “Thanks for being adventurous.”

“Are you kidding?” Her eyes sparkled, her expression more familiar to him — the way it had been before her accident. “Best day since the accident.”

“Good.” He pulled her into a careful hug. Again he felt something change in his heart, in the way he felt toward her. Like if this were a different place, if she were well and this were the end of another sort of night together, he might consider kissing her. The
thought took him by surprise and caused him to step back sooner than he might’ve otherwise. “Goodnight, Chey … Heal up.”

The drive home didn’t take long — ten minutes maybe. Along the way Cody wondered about Chey’s prayer, the part where she asked God to continue growing the bond between them — whatever it might be. Cody looked at his computer as he walked into his room, and for a moment he thought about going on Facebook. Checking up on his players … seeing if Bailey had posted any new photos.

But instead he brushed his teeth, changed into a pair of shorts, and climbed into bed. His prayer that night was not the usual one for inner peace, or the prayer that God might take away the nightmares and flashbacks. The Lord was already answering that prayer — more so every day. Rather, he prayed that God would make it clear what he was supposed to do with his feelings for Cheyenne, and whether she was the girl he was supposed to love, the girl he should maybe even marry someday. But no matter how long he prayed, a part of his heart still ached for Bailey. So instead he changed up his prayer again, asking God this time for an undivided heart. And as he fell asleep, he added one more request. That the Lord would make him a whole lot more like Cheyenne. Not afraid of anything.

Even falling in love again.

T
HE SHOW WAS DARK ON MONDAY — NO PERFORMANCES. SO
Bailey had time to spend with Betty and Bob Keller, something she had come to look forward to. It was the first Monday in June, and this morning Betty was resuming her summer group Bible study. Every Monday morning throughout the summer, three of her friends would stop in for an hour-long Bible discussion — at least according to Betty. “We see each other here and there during the other seasons.” Betty had smiled, talking about her friends. “But we know how busy we can get. That’s why we keep our weekly meetings to just the summertime.”

The study would start in five minutes, and Bailey was still fixing her hair in her room. But already she could hear the voices of the other women. She hurried herself, aware that she’d be ready by now if she hadn’t gone on Facebook this morning. Her intent, as always, was to update her page with something encouraging for the girls who had befriended her. Bailey liked to think of the couple thousand people who followed her on Facebook as genuine friends … and her page the place where they met in something of a virtual living room. A place to hang out.

She’d found a verse from Ezra 10:4 that seemed especially fitting. “Rise up; this matter is in your hands. We will support you, so take courage and do it!” The verse was powerful for Bailey … just reading it made her feel stronger. It reminded her of how she had moved on after Cody, how she had been forced to rely on God’s strength and rise up to the matter. Also how she had
relied on the support from her family — and even from Brandon — to have the courage to move on. Maybe a few of her Facebook friends were going through similar situations, and the Ezra verse might speak to them.

Bailey ran the brush through her hair. The trouble with the verse was that it brought Cody’s name to mind — the way so many moments in a day still did. And that caused her to check his Facebook page. She’d told herself a hundred times that looking in on Cody wasn’t healthy. She didn’t need to know what he was doing or how his football team was coming along. It wasn’t smart for her to analyze his page, reading his wall or checking out his information to see if he was still single. Every time she looked in on him, she only walked away feeling worse, rejected all over again. And every time she asked herself the same question: How could he go on like nothing was wrong? Like they hadn’t just walked away from the greatest love either of them might ever know?

But today was worse than ever. All along she’d known that at some point she would look at his Facebook and find a picture of Cheyenne and him. It was inevitable, since he was spending his time with her. Bailey had read every one of Cody’s updates on Cheyenne, how she was healing and coming along after the accident. Of course he was with her. But still, she’d never seen a picture of them together.

Until this morning.

Bailey listened for the women’s voices in the front room. They would talk for a few minutes first — Betty had told her that much. If she wanted to join the Bible study, she still had a little time. She dropped to her desk chair once more and in a few clicks she was back on Cody’s page. His profile picture was the same — a group shot of him and a few of the players. He looked as handsome as ever, his face more chiseled maybe. Stronger — if that were possible.

The photo was something Cody was tagged in, and it was
taken by one of the players, Arnie Hurley. It was posted last night — Sunday — and it showed Cody and Cheyenne sitting in his pickup truck while half the football team held a sign welcoming her back. Since she was sitting in the truck, Bailey couldn’t make out exactly what she looked like. But what she could see shook her confidence completely.

Cheyenne was gorgeous — striking cheekbones and big brown eyes. Straight dark hair to her shoulders. Bailey had never felt more plain in all her life. She leaned close to the screen and tried to get a better look. When Cheyenne was fighting for her life in a hospital bed, she’d looked nothing like she did now. But that made sense — what with her head bandaged and the swelling in her face after the accident. Now she looked like a supermodel.

Bailey breathed out, fighting the defeat that welled in her heart. No wonder Cody hadn’t called her. He was clearly in love with Cheyenne. He could tell her he didn’t feel worthy of her love or try to convince her that their lives were too different for a relationship between them to work. But the truth was here — in the Facebook photo. Cody’s face was lit up, his smile as genuine as the look in his eyes. He was happy and committed to her. There was no other way to read the picture.

Bailey checked his information page once more and saw that he was still listed as single. Which made no sense. He should be truthful and just tell the world how it was. He was in a relationship with Cheyenne Williams.

Bailey clicked the
X
at the top left corner of the page and Facebook immediately disappeared.
Great … you did it again.
Her time on Facebook had made her late, and still she had to go back one more time, take one more look. Bailey didn’t know what was wrong with her, why she couldn’t let him go. She had no reason to think about Cody now. Especially when things with Brandon were better than ever.

She stood, took her Bible from the nightstand next to her bed,
and headed out to join the others. As she approached, they were so lost in conversation it took a few moments for them to notice her. Each of them had a Starbucks drink, and their Bibles weren’t opened yet.
Perfect timing,
Bailey told herself.

Betty noticed her first. “Bailey, … come in. Take a chair.” She motioned to the seat beside her, one she had obviously left open on purpose so that Bailey would have a place to sit. “We were just catching up.”

The other women raised their cups and the tallest of the four grinned at Betty. “Here, here. We need our catch-up time.”

“Alright … this is Bailey Flanigan. She’s a new Broadway dancer, starring in
Hairspray.”
Betty smiled at her and patted her knee. “Bailey is brilliantly talented and she has a strong love for God. He has amazing plans for her, right?”

Bailey felt nothing of the sort, not after the way she was struggling in her stage role, and especially not after looking at Cody’s Facebook page. She tried to shake her discouragement. “Yes.” She remembered to smile. “That’s my prayer, anyway.”

“It’s a promise!” The tall woman held her index finger upward, as if to heaven. “God’s already decided that His plans for you are good, right?” She looked at her friends.

“Right.” A woman across the room nodded sweetly. She wore bright red shoes and a smile that lit the room. “You can pray that God will help you understand those plans. But you don’t have to worry. He definitely has good plans for you.”

Already a sense of peace pressed in around Bailey. She was going to love this Bible study … these women and the knowledge they possessed. Bailey had missed meeting for a regular Bible study — something she had always done on campus at Indiana University. This time would be good for her. “Thanks.” She looked at both the women who had added to the conversation. “I needed to hear that.”

“Alright.” Betty was clearly the leader, the one who kept them
on track. “Let’s have everyone introduce themselves. Tell a little about your life and why you’re part of this group.”

She looked at her tall friend, the one on her other side. “Barbara, you go first.”

“Very well.” Barbara sat straight and spoke in a way that was eloquent and clear. “I’m Barbara Owens, the baby of the group … though we won’t say exactly what that means,” she laughed, and the others joined in. She took a sip of her drink and waited for the room to settle again. “I’m married to the love of my life.” A soft look filled her eyes. “We have three kids and seven grandchildren.” She paused, but only because she wasn’t in a rush. Everything about Barbara emanated confidence. She was very pretty, and something told Bailey she had been successful in her life.

Barbara still had the floor. “Let’s see … I love to decorate and sew … and I make a new cross-stitch wall hanging for my house every year.”

“And you’re the CEO of your own company.” Betty gave her a friendly elbow in the ribs. “Don’t be modest.”

“Oh, that,” again Betty laughed. “Yes, I grew up on a ranch in Texas, and today I’m the CEO of my own New York company.” She paused. “I met Betty at a Pilates class downtown and by the end of the afternoon we were swapping Bible verses and promising we’d get together that weekend with our husbands.” She smiled and put her hand briefly on Betty’s shoulder. “We’ve been like sisters ever since. I wouldn’t miss our summer Bible study.”

Betty’s expression showed how much Barbara meant to her. She moved to the next woman in the circle, the one with the red shoes. The woman didn’t need to be asked twice. “Hi, Bailey … my name is Sara Quillian, and I live in the apartment building here. I met Betty and Bob at one of the building’s rooftop barbecues. Betty was talking about Jesus in no time, and we began making a point of finding time to be together. We’ve been friends for a decade.”

“At least.” Betty crossed her legs at the ankles and shot a kind smile across the room. “You and I are in charge of telling the people in this building about Jesus, right?”

“Exactly.” Sara took a quick breath and explained how she had been a child in World War II when she first realized how important it was to live for God. “We don’t have time to hold a grudge against someone. They could be gone before sundown.”

Bailey let the words hit deep inside her heart. Was there a message here from God? She thought about Sara’s words … how a person could be gone by sundown. The way Cody might’ve been killed in Iraq or Cheyenne in her terrible wreck. She wasn’t sure if she carried a grudge against Cody, but it was something she needed to think about. Sooner rather than later.

Sara went on explaining that she had been married more than fifty years, and that she hoped for another fifty more. Bailey smiled at the thought. Was that how she would feel fifty years from now … like her only wish might be for another half a century with the man she loved? Was Brandon a guy she could love like that? The image from Cody’s Facebook page shot through her mind … Cody and his new girl. Bailey let the thought go and focused on what Sara was saying.

“I was the first female editor of my university’s school paper.” She paused. “Believers need to be visible,” she nodded, her eyes sparkling despite the wrinkles around them. “That’s why I love that you’re performing on Broadway, Bailey. We’re no light at all if we’re not a light in a visible place.”

Bailey nodded, as Sara’s wisdom sank in. “My parents say that.”

“Your parents are right.” Sara eased her feet in front of her, and for a few seconds she gazed at her shoes. “I love a pair of new red shoes … have I mentioned that?”

“Not in the past hour.” The fourth woman was more petite and quieter than the others. She had a pretty face and a sparkly
smile. It was easy to see how stunning the woman must’ve been when she was younger. She grinned at Bailey. “I’m Irma … It’s not my turn yet, but I had to say that.”

Again they all laughed, and Bailey was struck by the closeness among them. These friends had learned the secret of accepting one another exactly as they were. The thought reminded Bailey that she should call Andi Ellison soon. Her friend from Indiana University was living in Los Angeles now, but with a little effort they could still stay in touch.

Betty looked at Bailey. “Sara’s full of godly wisdom. Something she won’t tell you.” She glanced back at her friend. “Her home is the regular stop for several local pastors and Campus Crusade workers. She loves her family and she thinks it’s important for women to be strong in our society.”

Bailey listened, curious. Strength wasn’t usually something she aspired to. “How do you mean … we should be strong?” She turned to Sara.

“Strong in society, vocal about our beliefs.” Her eyes were kind, but they held a no-nonsense look. “For you, that might mean speaking up for your faith, being the voice of truth for your cast.”

“She’s right.” Irma was the silliest in the group, Bailey could tell. But in this moment she was very serious. “It might not be enough to shine on stage. God might be asking more of you.”

Bailey thought about Chrissy and her obvious anorexia … and the members of the cast who seemed to sneer at her faith or her connection with Brandon. Bailey had no idea how she might be more vocal with them, but she believed this: If she asked God for help … He would show her. “Thanks … I’ll think about that.”

It was Irma’s turn. She rustled herself as tall as she could. “I’m Irma, and I’m vertically challenged, but like I always tell my kids — I’m more fun per inch than anyone I know.”

Again the ladies raised their coffee drinks and a couple of
them clapped in agreement. “No argument here.” Betty tilted her head, her eyes on Irma. “Why don’t you start with your name and save the jokes for later, honey.”

“Right.” Irma pointed at Betty. “You did say that.” She turned to Bailey. “I’m Maria Rangel, but most people call me Irma.”

“All people,” Betty pointed out.

“Okay,” Irma shrugged. “All people. Anyway, let’s see. I began this Bible study when I met Betty at church twenty-two years ago. My family and my faith are everything to me. Oh …” she pointed her finger in the air as if she wasn’t quite finished, “and I’ve been married fifty years to the man of my dreams — Al Rangel.” She stopped long enough to gaze upward, as if she were lost in romantic thoughts about Al.

Bailey giggled. She enjoyed these women, their wisdom and faith, their combined years of happy, successful marriages. She had much to learn from them — and already she looked forward to the summer Monday mornings they would share. Irma explained that she liked to travel and how she’d been to the Holy Land and to Greece and several times back to her hometown in Mexico.

“But you should know this,” she leaned over her legs and brought her voice to a whisper. “I had heart surgery in 2009.” She shook her head and waved her hand, like she was dismissing an irritating fly at a summer picnic. “We don’t talk about that much … except to let it serve as a reminder.” She sat up again and looked around the room. “What’s the reminder, girls?”