Learning (27 page)

Last week a tray of fifty individually wrapped football cookies was delivered to the Lyle High athletic office — along with a check for the Sanders’ family fund. Cody wasn’t surprised to read the card and find a note from Jim Flanigan.

We’re following your success, Cody, the wins on the field and off. We’re so very proud of you. Please know that we continue to pray for you daily. With all our love, Jim, Jenny, and the Flanigan kids.

It was all so much more than Cody ever dreamed possible. He looked around the quiet locker room. He cherished this place in the postgame hours, the time after the fans had gone off to celebrate, and when only Cheyenne and DeMetri waited for him out in his pickup. The thought of Cheyenne made him smile. The two of them talked once in a while about where the future might lead, whether this might be a forever relationship. They’d kissed a few times, but only very briefly. Cody respected Chey, and they both wanted to honor God. Cody didn’t have the roller-coaster feeling when he was with Cheyenne, but that didn’t worry him. He was older now, more mature.

The way he’d felt with Bailey wasn’t something he would feel again.

He zipped his bag, and for a minute he sat on the bench in front of the row of lockers. He breathed in deep, letting every wonderful thing about the season settle in his heart.

You’re so good, God … beyond anything I could ever ask or imagine.

I am your Father … I go before you, always.

Cody basked in the reality of the truth, the certainty of the answer. He slid off the bench and dropped to his knees, humbled and grateful before a God who could turn even a smelly locker room into holy ground. “I am yours, God … lead me … teach me … help me to keep learning.”

Cody stayed that way, on his knees before God, in the presence of the Holy Spirit. He rarely thought about his biological father. He had no connection to the guy whatsoever, and he doubted the man ever thought about Cody. There were times growing up when that fact had hurt more than a small boy could take, times when he would cry alone in his room wishing with all his heart for a dad. He had no father to play catch with or go fishing with … no man to cheer him on when he did well in grade school or for the local Pee Wee Football League.

His mom was always in and out of prison, in and out of her drug binges. When she wasn’t around, Cody would stay with a neighbor or a friend from school. But none of the situations ever provided someone who felt like a father. Not until he came to live with the Flanigans. He smiled, his head bowed. “Thank You for Jim Flanigan, Lord.” In some ways, the man would always fill that role — the father he never knew.

But in this private moment of serenity, as Cody pondered all the good God had done in his life, and in the last month … he was most grateful for the truth he’d just been reminded of. Even when he was at his loneliest as a little boy, and when he was fighting in Iraq or trying to deal with the heartache of losing Bailey, he was never without a dad.

God was his father.

Cody stood up, massaging his left knee, the one that still ached from the injury he’d suffered at war. He gathered his gear bag onto his shoulder and looked around the place. Stinky or not, he loved the smell of a locker room after a football game, loved
the strong smell of rubber matting mixed with sweat and ripe football cleats. Being here, breathing it in, took him back to his days at Clear Creek High and the way Jim Flanigan had taken him in, treated him like a son.

How great are You, God … letting me be a part of something like this, something so much bigger than me. Please, Father … keep it coming. Let the miracle You’re working here be so big the world will have to see You before they can understand this.

He smiled as he headed for the door, and at the same time he turned on his cell phone. It took only a few seconds for it to come to life, and as it did Cody saw he had a voicemail message waiting for him from a 212 area code. He paused, tapped his screen a few times, and held the phone to his ear.

“Cody, this is Hans Tesselaar, reporter with
Sports Illustrated.
I wondered if you might have a few minutes to call me back. We’re watching your season and … well, if things continue the way they’re going, we’re thinking about doing a feature story on your team … maybe sometime at the end of November.” The man rattled off a phone number. “I hope to hear from you.”

Disbelief came over Cody. He’d heard this might happen, but he never really expected it.
Sports Illustrated?
He made a note to call Mr. Tesselaar back in the morning — assuming he would want to talk on a Saturday. He walked out of the locker room and headed toward his pickup. They were having a game night at Tara’s house with Cheyenne and DeMetri. As Cody made his way across the field, he could only stand firm on one very great truth. He had the best Father in the world and something else too.

All of his life had led him to this.

S
IX WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE FRANCESCA ORDERED BAILEY TO
stop having her Bible study, and now it was midway through October and Bailey still hadn’t found a way to resume it. The advice from Betty Keller and her friends was strong — hold the study somewhere else. But Francesca must’ve suspected she might do that, because the woman pulled her aside a few weeks ago and said only this: “It would be a cast Bible time wherever you hold it. So don’t think about having it somewhere else.”

“What if it wasn’t for the cast … but for anyone?” Bailey still felt nervous talking to her.

The director gave her a long look. “I can’t stop you then. But given your public role in our cast, I don’t advise you leading it.”

Bailey could do what she wanted, of course. She could hold the Bible study at a local coffee shop, or in the lobby of the Kellers’ apartment building. But if Francesca found out, she could simply cancel her contract and send her home. She had the right to cut Bailey anytime, for any reason. That was how the contract read. Of course, Tim Reed and his girlfriend from the
Wicked
cast were involved in the church at Times Square, and they had their own Bible study. Bailey could join theirs, but she couldn’t get her castmates to come along.

Gerald had already told her as much. “We meet with you or we don’t meet. I can’t sit in on a Bible study with a bunch of strangers. A few new people would be one thing. But I couldn’t talk about my struggles with someone else leading.”

Bailey understood, but she still hadn’t found a solution. It was Monday night and the show was dark, so like most Mondays she and the Kellers went out for an early dinner. This time they ate at Sardi’s on Forty-fourth Street. The place had long been frequented by celebrities, and the walls bore the caricatures of a number of them. It was the sort of place Bailey could never have come to with Brandon — because they wouldn’t have made it out without attracting the attention of the local paparazzi and a sea of fans and tourists.

But she figured she and the Kellers could eat there without much commotion. It surprised her then when, halfway through their meal, a woman walked up with a pad of paper. “I hate to interrupt you while you’re eating … but could I have your autograph?”

Bailey wanted to look over her shoulder and see who the woman might be talking to. Even with her hit movie
Unlocked,
she rarely got recognized in the city. She looked like any other girl, as far as she was concerned. Any other dancer trying to make it on Broadway.

“We don’t mind,” Bob Keller was the first to speak up.

“Not at all.” Bailey took the pad of paper and signed her name. “Did you like the movie?”

“I love it! I’ll be the first to buy it when it comes out on DVD.” She chatted on for another minute about how she’d spotted Bailey and how she’d told her husband, “That’s Bailey Flanigan … I swear it is.”

The woman hung around their table long enough that others in the restaurant caught on to what was happening, the fact that Brandon Paul’s co-star from
Unlocked
was eating dinner among them. It was the first time anything like this had happened, and Bailey felt a little funny about the attention.

When they were back at the apartment, Betty asked her if she was alright. “You looked a little flustered.”

“I’m okay …” She couldn’t put her feelings into exact words.
“I was happy to sign autographs and take pictures … I guess I kept thinking what if my life was always like that. The way it is for Brandon.”

She was right to think about it, and as she made her way to her room around eight that night, she realized something for the first time. If she and Brandon became a couple, if she committed her heart to him, then that would become her life. She would move to LA so he could keep making movies, and their ability to hide from the paparazzi would eventually become impossible.

A sigh drifted from between her lips as she sat at her desk and opened her laptop. Brandon had been busy with meetings and reshoots this past week, finishing up his film with Eva Gentry. He hadn’t texted as often as usual and Bailey missed him. She went to Yahoo.com, looking for any news on his new movie or what he might be up to next. It was crazy how she could find out more information from the Internet than she could in a conversation with him.

She was about to type Brandon’s name in the search bar when something caught her eyes: An article featured in the top ten stories listed on the Yahoo home page. The headline read, “Small-Town Football Coach Changing Lives.” A funny feeling ran through her, and without hesitating she clicked the words. Immediately the story appeared on her screen.

As it did, she gasped. A quarter of her screen was filled with a picture of Cody Coleman … and beneath it a shot of the Lyle High football field. She knew about Cody’s success with Lyle. She kept up with his Facebook — even when she wasn’t sure it was wise to do so. A few weeks ago her mom told her the media was all over what Cody was doing with the Buckaroos. She had sent Bailey a link to an online version of the feature story that had run in the Indianapolis paper.

But to see the story featured on Yahoo?

She read it, fighting back an onslaught of emotions. A part
of her was hurt by the article, sad once again that in this amazing time in Cody’s life, she wasn’t there to share it. His Facebook page was still mostly about the Lyle football team. But there were occasional photos of Cody and Cheyenne, and references to her in the comments his players left on his wall.

But as Bailey read the Yahoo story, her sadness was overshadowed by a pride in Cody she’d never really felt this strongly before. Sure, she looked up to him. He was the first guy to tell her not to settle for any reason, the first boy to assure her that what her parents had always said was true — she was one-in-a-million, and she should treat herself that way. And she’d been proud of him when he went to serve the country at war.

But this? The idea that he had taken a losing football program and not only breathed winning life into it, but that he’d rallied the guys to reach out to their teammates and their town? And the fact that he’d done all of this for God’s glory … “His way” … as the article mentioned?

Bailey smiled at the image of Cody on her screen, and the impact he was making. “Way to go, Cody … I’m proud of you.” She whispered the words in her empty room alone, and for a moment she thought about texting him, telling him she’d seen the story and she couldn’t be happier for the way God was using him. But then … her mom had told her that they’d sent cookies and a donation. Anything she might say now would only confuse both of them. Someday they might be far enough away from yesterday to be friends again.

But not anytime soon.

Bailey clicked the search box and typed in Brandon’s name. The first of seventy-three stories that came up made her smile too. “Brandon Paul Doesn’t Mind Risking Popularity for Faith.” A warmth spread through her, because a year ago she never could’ve seen this coming. It was one thing for an actor of Brandon’s stature to give his life to the Lord. It was another thing to live his faith
out — day by day in a city and industry that most often had no use for God.

The question had been posed to Brandon yesterday, apparently, as to whether he would tone down his talk about his faith if his Christianity started to cause a drop in his popularity. The article said that a smiling Brandon Paul had merely responded by saying, “I act because I love it … but I love God more. The Bible says our lives here are like a mist that appears for a little while and then is gone. I guess it doesn’t matter so much how popular I am when you keep that in mind.” Again, Bailey was thrilled. Brandon’s statement might cost him his public popularity and something else — a lower paycheck. But he didn’t care.

She was about to close the computer, play her guitar for a little while, or write in her journal and jot down the thoughts clamoring for position in her heart. But before she could close it an instant message popped up. Bailey smiled. It was from Andi Ellison, her college roommate from the last few years.

Hey, Bailey, how are you! It’s been way too long!

Bailey typed her response.
Andi, it’s so good to hear from you — lol. How are you? And how’s the movie business?

It’s amazing! I might read for a speaking part next week. My dad thinks I have a good chance. It’s a Christian film, different producers, but friends of my dad’s.

A tenderness spread through Bailey’s heart. Andi was another example of someone who had turned her life entirely over to Jesus. And in the process, God was blessing her, showing her that second chances existed for people who believed. She typed another reply.
That’s great, Andi. I’m so happy for you. So you’re loving LA?

Absolutely. The sunshine and palm trees … the beach. What’s not to love? And the traffic gives me time to pray, so yeah … I love it.

They talked another five minutes about New York City and
Hairspray
and Bailey’s growing friendship with Brandon Paul. Andi thought the two of them were going to get married one day.
I always thought it would be you and Cody,
she wrote.
But now I’ve changed my mind. Brandon adores you … I can see it in your pictures.

Bailey wanted to ask if Andi had plans to see her son, the one she gave up for adoption in January. The baby was thriving with his adoptive parents, Luke and Reagan Baxter. But there had been talk initially that every so often Andi might visit the baby, see how he was growing up. Still, the adoption seemed too recent to bring it up first.

As she and Andi were wrapping up, the Skype program popped up and a question appeared on her screen. Brandon Paul was inviting her to a video chat. Bailey uttered a quiet giggle. It was like he could read her mind, like he always knew exactly when to contact her. She said goodbye to Andi and agreed to Brandon’s request. Like that, they were together, face-to-face, if only virtually.

“Bailey … ahhh, good.” He was wearing a long sleeve gray buttoned-down shirt with a white T-shirt underneath. For a few seconds he put his hand on his throat and acted like he was only now able to catch his breath.

“What in the world are you doing?” She laughed, loving the way he could turn actor at any moment. “Don’t tell me you’re choking on an olive. One too many premiere parties.”

This time he laughed hard and dropped his hand back to his side. “No … it’s just that I can finally see you. Which means I can breathe better.” He leaned close to the screen. “I need you like air, Bailey.”

She felt his compliment to the depths of her soul. “I needed that right now.”

“Then that makes us even.” He leaned back and grinned. “So what’s on your mind tonight, pretty girl?”

“You.” She smiled. This probably wasn’t the time to get into it, how she had been touched by Cody’s efforts at Lyle and Brandon’s
strong faith in the world of moviemaking. Even Andi’s ability to come back to God after living so very much against Him. Meanwhile, she couldn’t figure out a way to stand up to her director long enough to get her Bible study going again. She leaned her elbows on the desk, her face closer to the screen. “I wish I could crawl through this thing and be with you. I could use a long talk on your balcony.”

“Hmmm.” He straightened, and his eyes lit up. “Hey, I have an idea. We can’t be on my balcony … not tonight, anyway. But how about you take your laptop to the Empire State Building. I’ll call ahead and talk to Joey, and you can meet up with him. He’ll take you to the 103
^rd
floor … and we can Skype from there.”

“What?” Was he always going to be like this? One crazy idea after another? She had figured it would be a night of turning in early, but in light of his suggestion she felt newly invigorated. “Would that work?”

“Sure.” He gave her a satisfied grin. “I already called and asked. Joey told me they have wi-fi throughout the building — even the top floor.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. Then he held it up for the camera. “See? This is the code. I’ll text it to you, and we’ll be all set.”

“So … like what? Just take a cab there and tell them Brandon Paul sent me.”

“Bailey, really?” He looked wounded, but she could see he was only teasing her. “I have a car waiting for you downstairs. It’s just a matter of saying yes.”

“You’re not going to pop out from the other room, are you?” She was always on her guard with him now. He loved surprising her. Tonight’s idea was just one more example.

“No.” He laughed, almost like he wished he could. “But I’d love to Skype with you from the Empire State Building. Like, for an hour or so.”

Bailey thought about it for a few more seconds. She had
nothing else to do, no show until tomorrow night. Finally she shrugged. “Okay … but it might not work. I mean, you might not be able to see the view through the computer camera.”

He held her eyes for a long time. “Oh, I’ll be able to see the view, alright.” His eyes couldn’t hide the way he felt about her, how he was completely and utterly smitten in her presence. “I’ll see it the same way I can see it now.”

“You’re crazy.” She giggled, basking under his compliment. “Okay, then. I’ll sign on again in fifteen minutes or so.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

New York was still warm during the days, but the nights were cooling again. She slipped into a lightweight navy cardigan, grabbed her things, and explained to Bob and Betty that Brandon had arranged a ride for her. They laughed at his spontaneity and fifteen minutes later she was riding up the elevator to the 103
^rd
floor. “That Brandon … he’s got it bad for you.” The man grinned at her. “I ain’t never heard o’ no one doing something like this.”

“I know … skyping from the 103
^rd
floor of the Empire State Building.”

Joey smiled again. “Yeah … that.”

She stepped off the elevator and, like before, Joey stayed for security reasons, anchored to his spot near the door. He motioned to the left. “You might want to walk that way. The best service is on the other side of the observation deck.”