Longing (25 page)

Brandon nodded. Deep down he knew this, right? He’d known it from the beginning. But he’d never thought of it that way, that some of the situations he’d been in might’ve been set up by the studio. Allowed, maybe. Approved of, even. But set up by his employers? The possibility that the paparazzi pictures from a night on the town could in some way be the doing of the marketing department of one or another film he’d been in?

Dayne must’ve seen how surprised Brandon was. “Picture it,” he continued. “You’re done filming, ready for a night out. You get a call from your agent or someone at your management company. They tell you about a party — an exclusive, an invitation from another celeb. They tell you where and when to go, and they make it seem like they’re doing you a favor.” He paused, his eyes locked on Brandon’s. “Right? Isn’t that how it works?”

“Well …” Brandon felt sick, like he wasn’t sure he could stand if he wanted to. Again he hated looking at those moments in this exact light. “Sometimes. Yeah, that’s happened. But that was before.”

“Before your last two movies, maybe. But with this contract it’ll be every time.” Dayne frowned. “Remember, Brandon. I was you just a few years ago. A puppet in the hands of a studio, thinking I was running my own life. In the end there was only one way out.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Just wanted to share that with you. Since they’re offering such a big contract.”

Brandon didn’t know what to say, how to respond. “I guess … I never thought about it like that.”

“I mean, I know you’re thinking of Bailey and engagement rings … but this contract could change your life. Have you had your own lawyer look at it?”

Confusion added to the mix of emotions smothering him. “My own? You mean the one from my agent’s office?”

“No.” Dayne was more serious than he’d been throughout the entire conversation. “Your agent will make a fortune off this contract. I’m talking about a lawyer
you
hire, someone independent who will tell you what you’re really signing. What it’ll mean for you.”

“Oh.” Brandon felt stupid, like a kid who had inadvertently let the adults in his life make all the decisions. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

Dayne took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled a business card from inside. “My brother, Luke Baxter, is an entertainment attorney. I’m sure he’d love to take a look at it.” Dayne slid the card across the table. “Give him a call. At least then you’ll be protecting yourself.”

Brandon nodded. “Thanks, Dayne … I mean it. I need someone like you, helping me out. Especially where God’s concerned.” The frustration he felt was nothing to his gratitude. “The Lord must’ve arranged this meeting, huh?”

“Not just this one.” Dayne’s face relaxed and he grinned. “The one before it. Where you met Jared James.”

He wasn’t sure he was tracking with Dayne. “The guy doing Christian films with you?”

“Absolutely. Look up his work. He’s one of the most talented moviemakers in the business.” Dayne’s face held a knowing, as if he was absolutely confident in whatever dots he was privately connecting. He gave another casual shrug. “At least you know you have options, Brandon. For now, anyway.” Dayne looked at his
phone again. “I better run.” He stood and gave Brandon a solid hug. “I hope I didn’t say too much.” He took a step back. “I care about Bailey … and I care about you. There’s a right way to go about the next five years, and there’s a wrong way. Pick the wrong way and I think you could lose more than your reputation and witness. You could lose the girl too.” He hesitated. “I’ll be praying for you, buddy. Really.”

Brandon couldn’t do anything but nod, unable to move or speak in response. Instead he watched Dayne go, took what was left of his coffee, and headed outside to the waiting car. Discouragement grabbed at him from every angle. Dayne had pretty much shot down the idea of a Valentine’s Day engagement and then made him doubt the very contract he was about to celebrate.

Brandon settled into the plush seat, and he remembered the last thing Dayne said: He’d be praying. Brandon believed him. And if he prayed too, then the answers would eventually be clear on every point.

As the driver headed for his beachside home, he slipped the business card Dayne had given him in his back pocket. He didn’t need to bother the guy. The contract signing wasn’t for another month or so. Besides, he would read through the document himself first. How difficult could it be? Brandon understood Dayne’s point. Brandon could always do Christian films exclusively. The idea wasn’t a bad one, but Brandon had bigger plans, grander ideas.

If he could take his faith into the mainstream world of major motion pictures, he would have a greater impact, right? Whether the film was an action movie or a thriller or a drama, if it had the scope and marketing the studio was planning to bring to his next seven pictures, he would reach far more people. Brandon felt convinced, and by the time his driver dropped him off back home, he was at peace with his decision. Dayne meant well.

Unless he spotted something troubling, there was no reason to have Luke Baxter look at his contract.

B
AILEY WAS NEARLY PACKED, READY FOR HER FLIGHT IN FOUR
hours, when the house phone rang. For the past two days she’d thought often of Cody, what he was going through and the heartache he must be feeling. But she hadn’t reached out to him. After all, he hadn’t wanted to talk to her, and that was okay. She understood. In a situation like this, the last person he’d want to talk to would be her, his old girlfriend.

From up in her room Bailey couldn’t hear whatever conversation might be happening downstairs. After a few minutes she went to the top of the landing and heard her mom walking up from the kitchen. Bailey waited, and when her mom came into view she knew. The tears on her cheeks told the story. The call had to be from Cody.

“Cheyenne has maybe an hour.” She wiped her tears and sounded stronger than she looked. “Cody says it’ll be anytime.” Her mom hugged her. “Bailey, he sounded so sad.” She drew back and gave a few shakes of her head. “I asked if there was anything we could do, and he said no. He just wanted us to pray.”

Bailey felt her heart breaking for Cody. “Mom, that’s awful.” She wished they could all be in heaven now, with no more death or dying or worries about which career path to take, which guy to love. “Life can be so hard.”

“It can.” Her mom took hold of her hands. “It’s why we need God so much.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Let’s pray for Cody.”

Her mom led the prayer. “Father, we ask that You be in that room where Cheyenne is about to go home. Fill it with the presence of Your Holy Spirit and comfort Cody and Tara. Give them strength, Lord, to be there for Cheyenne, to love her and hold her hand as she goes from this life to the next.” Her mom’s voice trembled. “Most of all we ask You to comfort Cody. Father, life always seems to be hard for that young man. Please … as Cheyenne goes home we pray You will bless Cody with sunshine in the days to come.” She sighed. “Thank You for Your truth and Your salvation. So we don’t for a minute have to worry or wonder about where Cheyenne is headed. Because heaven is real. In the powerful name of Jesus, amen.”

Bailey released her mom’s hands and dabbed at the tears beneath her eyes. “Thanks, Mom. That was perfect.”

Her mom looked intently at her. “Do you think maybe you should stay another few days? Be there for Cody?”

The idea hadn’t hit Bailey, but now it seemed almost obvious. “Do you think so?”

“Sort of.” Her mom lifted one shoulder, her ambivalence evident. “I mean, our family is like his family. And this is bound to be one of the most difficult couple days he’s ever faced.”

Times like this Bailey wondered again if her mom didn’t still hold out hope that somehow she and Cody would find their way back together, that he would be a regular part of their family once again. Bailey tried to keep the issues separate — her past with Cody and his potential need to see her family in the next few days. Maybe even her. “I’m not sure he’d want to see me.” She bit her lip, weighing the options. “He didn’t want to talk the other day.”

“Only because he was crying. He needed Dad that night.”

“I know, but … what good could I really do?”

Her mom waited for a few seconds, giving serious thought to the possibilities. “Maybe it isn’t so much that you’d see him. But
just him knowing that you had stayed, that you didn’t leave for LA the day his girlfriend died.”

Put that way, Bailey easily saw the right answer. How callous would she appear if she blithely hopped on a plane in the hours after Cheyenne went home to heaven, as if Cody’s pain and heartache were of no concern to her. She nodded slowly. “You’re right. I need to call Brandon.” She had no choice really. “He’ll understand.”

“I’m sure you can get a flight out tomorrow or Sunday.” Her mom hugged her again. “I think that’s the right choice, Bailey. I’ll let you go make your call.”

When her mom was gone, she slipped back into her room, sat on the edge of her bed, and dialed Brandon’s cell. Usually she would text first, see what he was doing. Especially since he was filming today and he’d have his phone off. But she wanted him to hear her voice as she left the message. “Brandon … something’s come up with Cody. I won’t be going to LA until probably Sunday.” She paused. “I’m sorry, baby. Believe me I wanted to be on that plane.” She stood and mindlessly played with the zipper on her suitcase. “Call me back.”

Then — so that he’d know how much he still mattered to her, and so he’d know that his loss meant something to her — she texted Cody. She doubted he had his phone on in this last bit of time with Cheyenne. But whenever he looked, she wanted him to see her message.

My mom told me about your call. I’m heartsick about this, Cody. I’m so sorry. I cancelled my flight to LA so I could be here. In case you need anything. Please … let me know. My mom and I can bring meals or make phone calls — whatever. I’m here for you.

That was all. And if her mom was right, then what she’d said and done was enough. Now it was up to Cody if he needed her in any real way over the next couple days. And if all the message did was remind Cody how much she cared, then it was still the right thing to do.

For the next hour, Bailey responded to fans on Twitter and Facebook. Ever since she and Brandon had been more public about their relationship, she had a ton of girls following her on both sites. Some of them were angry she was dating Brandon Paul. But most of them seemed to know she was a Christian. They had questions for her about whether a guy should treat them a certain way or talk to them a certain way, questions about their relationships with their mothers and their friends.

The aching void among teens touched Bailey more with every passing day. At first she would only check for comments from fans once in a while. Now she didn’t even like using the word fan. The people who clamored for her advice and attention were friends. She cared about them as much as if they had stopped by her house to share the troubles on their hearts.

Not until four o’clock that afternoon did she hear back from Brandon. By then she’d called the airlines and booked a flight out for midmorning on Sunday. That would put her in Los Angeles at just after two in the afternoon with the time change in her favor. She took Brandon’s call in her room, so she’d have more privacy.

“Hey, I got your message.” He sounded hurt. “Would it be okay if we Skype? I need to see you.”

“Of course.” She crossed the room and opened her laptop on her computer desk in the corner. “Give me a minute or two, okay? You back at your room?”

“Yes.” Again he sounded down, defeated. Very unusual for him. “I’ll be ready when you are.”

They hung up and Bailey worked quickly to sign onto Skype. Then she checked her look in the mirror and adjusted her hair into a loose side ponytail. She didn’t wear any makeup, but that didn’t matter. Brandon knew the real her. She tapped a few last buttons and instantly her own face appeared and then reduced in size as his face filled the larger part of the screen.

“Hey … hi there.” She hated that he sounded hurt.

“Hi.”

She smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

He smiled, but his eyes looked flat. “You don’t know how much.”‘

One thing was certain. Bailey hadn’t imagined what she heard. “You look upset.”

“Well, yeah. I was counting down the hours.” His smile proved he wasn’t angry. “What happened?”

She took a deep breath and kept her answer short. “Cody’s girlfriend … she’s going to die today sometime. He called and talked to my mom.”

“Wow … I’m sorry. That’s … that’s too sad.” Brandon felt sick for Cody, but he was still confused at how the guy’s very great loss affected Bailey’s flight out. “So … you’re not coming till Sunday?”

“It was my mom’s idea.” Bailey wished they were in person, so she could touch his hand or his shoulder. “We’ve pretty much been all the family Cody’s had. So maybe I should stay around, in case he needs us.”

A hundred thoughts seemed to flash in Brandon’s eyes, but he only clenched his teeth for a minute. “You think in the hours after his girl dies he’ll want to see you?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to keep the whole issue very matter-of-fact. “My mom just thought it might seem a little heartless to fly to LA right now.”

Brandon wasn’t going to understand. His expression made that very clear. But rather than fight with her, he found his smile again. The tenderhearted smile Bailey loved so much. “I can’t say it makes sense to me.” His tone rang with hurt, but he clearly meant whatever he was about to say. “But if that’s what you need to do, you have my support.”

Bailey felt herself breathe out, and she realized she’d been more than a little worried about how Brandon would react. She wasn’t sure staying made sense to her either. “I want to be with you. Not here. You believe that, right?”

“I do.” He didn’t hesitate. “Will you … go to him?”

She shook her head. “I don’t plan on it. I texted him and told him I was staying. That if he needed anything he could call.”

“That was nice.” Brandon’s voice lacked even a little sarcasm. He was obviously trying to see this her way. “You haven’t heard back?”

“No. I doubt I will. But I think my mom was right.” She returned his smile, grateful for this time, for the chance to talk to him face-to-face. “Staying here is the kind thing to do.”

Brandon nodded. He leaned his face on his fist and allowed the look in his eyes to lighten a little. “I guess I’ll have to switch up my countdown clock.”

She giggled, and it felt wonderful. Especially in light of the heaviness of the afternoon. “Me too.” She looked deep into his eyes, past the issues at hand. “I can’t wait, Brandon. I miss you like crazy.”

“Well …” He grabbed a full breath and sighed. “That makes two of us.”

They talked for a few minutes about his day, his filming, and then he let her go. “If you’re staying at home another few days, you might as well hang out with your family.”

“Thanks.” She told him she’d call later, and then they ended the Skype session. Bailey was glad that at the end of the conversation Brandon turned the attention to her family. She wondered if it was his way of saying that he trusted her, that this time apart wasn’t going to be about her and Cody.

Just about her doing an act of kindness for an old friend.

T
HE GOODBYE TOOK LONGER
than even the hospice nurse had expected. For the last few hours Cheyenne’s breathing had slowed dramatically, with long breaks between her in and out breaths. But still she held on. Now the afternoon was wearing down and
evening was coming. Cody couldn’t imagine another night of this, sitting beside her with no way of helping, wondering if every heartbeat was her last.

He sat in the same chair, the place where it felt like he’d been sitting for the past month. They took turns standing over her, talking to her, praying for her. Right now it was Tara’s turn. Sometime yesterday they both had sensed a change, a peace in Cheyenne as if she wanted them to know she was ready. It was time for her to go. And so they no longer urged her to hold on, to fight the cancer and stay with them.

Tara ran her fingers over Cheyenne’s sweaty forehead. “Go ahead, baby … go home to Jesus. He’s waiting for you, honey.” She wasn’t crying today — like at some points in the last week — wasn’t fighting God’s will in the situation. And by now His will was very clear. Cheyenne was almost on the other side. “Art’s waiting for you, sweetie. Run home, baby girl.”

Even now Cody wanted to weep for the sadness of the situation, the life Chey was going to miss here on earth. But when it was his turn to stand over her and pray for her and talk to her, he could do nothing but echo Tara’s message. She needed to let go. Tara sat down after fifteen minutes, and he stood, running his hand over her bald head, whispering close to her face. “I know you can hear me, Chey … and I agree with Tara. We want you to go. It’s okay to release everything here, honey. Jesus has His arms open wide for you. Art, too. You gotta tell him for me … when I get there he and I are gonna do some intense fishing. Probably a little football, too.” He paused, his eyes damp. “Okay, sweetie? You tell him that for me.”

In response, her breathing seemed to slow even more until he could count on two hands the number of breaths she took in a minute, and then on one hand. Tara joined him on her feet, as if she sensed the moment was almost upon them. “Dear Jesus, be with us … walk her home, Jesus … walk her home.” For the first
time that day Tara started to cry. “We can feel You here, Lord … take her hand and take her away from this. Please, God …”

Another breath and after several seconds another.

Cody watched, not sure whether he was breathing either. Ten seconds … fifteen … twenty. Chey gasped one final breath and then, in a moment they would remember forever, she exhaled and smiled at the same time. The exact same time.

And that was it.

Her chest didn’t rise again, and no air passed over her lips, in or out. Tara spoke first. “She’s home!” She turned and fell into Cody’s arms. “She’s with Jesus. She’s with my Art again.” Her tears were a mix of unearthly sorrow and otherworldly joy. She pulled back and stared out the window at the winter sky. “You’re home, baby girl … you give my boy a hug, okay?”

Cody looked at Chey, at the strong woman she was … at the friend she had been. For all the death he’d seen in Iraq, he’d never seen anything like this. A homegoing. Watching Cheyenne die was exhausting and all but impossible. But it was also beautiful, because very clearly she was no longer in the body that lay still on the bed. She was free and whole and well and happy.

Forever happy.

He stepped back from the bed and ran his hand over Tara’s back. “You okay, Mama?” It was the name Chey had called her, the name Art had called her. Now that it was just him, he would call her that, too. Always. “I want to go outside for a bit. You okay?”

“I am.” She wiped at her eyes and sniffed. With gentle movements she reached out and stroked Cheyenne’s hand. It was still warm, no doubt. But not for long. “I’ll call the morgue and stay with her. You go ahead.”

Cody didn’t want to stay with the body of his friend. He wanted to be outside, in the fresh air where the idea of heaven was so much more real. Without wasting another moment, he hugged Tara again and then left the room. When he was outside
on the familiar patio chair, he closed his eyes and breathed in deep. Out here he could still hear Chey’s voice in the wind, still feel her beside him, her hand on his shoulder assuring him she wasn’t afraid.