Loving (5 page)

“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 film, 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 …”

C
ODY
C
OLEMAN 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. Still, 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?”

The kid took a big bite of his taco and nodded while he chewed. When he could talk he tapped his finger on the table. “She wasn’t the girl for you, Coach. You know that, right?”

Cody waited, his eyes on DeMetri. “Why?”

“Don’t get me wrong … Bailey’s hot.” He seemed to dislike his choice of words. “Scratch that. She’s very pretty.”

“I’m with you so far.” Cody could see how seriously Smitty was taking this.

He gave a shake of his head like he was baffled. “I mean, the two of you look good together, and there’s all this history stuff between you. Like, anyone could feel it.”

A chuckle came from Cody. “Okay.”

“But there’s this problem in your eyes. Both your eyes.” He lifted his gaze to the sky and squinted. “When you were talking to her outside the theater, when we went up to New York, it was like … like you both had goodbye in your eyes.”

“Hmmm. Goodbye, huh?” Cody liked keeping things light with DeMetri. He struggled to do so now.

“Yeah, you know. The way people look at each other when it’s over. When there’s nothing left but goodbye.”

Cody angled his head, not sure what to say. If a high school kid could see goodbye in their eyes, and if Cheyenne could see it, then no wonder he and Bailey were finally able to see it too. Cody pressed his lips together and breathed in sharply through his nose. “You’re right. Just took us a while to figure it out.”

“Happens.” DeMetri shrugged and grinned at the same time.

Then the conversation switched to the Liberty football stadium and back to the droning English professor. They made small talk as they finished their lunch. Ten minutes later, Cody was collecting his taco wrappers when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?” He stood and walked toward the trashcan.

“Cody Coleman?” The voice was loud and distinct.

“Yes, sir?”

“Cody, this is Edwin Baylor, athletic director at Oaks Christian School, Thousand Oaks, California. Got your number from Jim Flanigan of the Indianapolis Colts.” He spoke fast, his words choppy bursts. “I hope that’s not a problem. Getting your number, calling you on your cell.”

“No, sir. It’s not a problem.” Cody took a few steps away from the table where DeMetri sat watching him. Oaks Christian? The school was one of the most well known in the country. Its student body included the kids of several famous actors and athletes.

A group of loud students entered the outdoor area. Cody covered his free ear as Edwin Baylor continued. “Listen, our football coach stepped down last week. Taking an early retirement.” A frustrated huff of air blew through Cody’s phone. “The fact is we’ve really tanked these last few years. The kids are rich and lazy and complacent and we need … well, we need what you brought to that Lyle team. I figure you’re committed out there, not looking to move.” He came up for a quick breath. “But the fact is you’re top of our list. We’d love you to at least consider the position.”

Cody released a bewildered laugh as he glanced back at DeMetri. His player had gathered his lunch wrappers and was halfway back from the trashcan to the table. He shot Cody a curious glance, and Cody held up his hand, letting the kid know he wouldn’t be long. “Wow … yes, sir. I can certainly consider it.” He paused. “Do you have a time frame, a date when you need to know by?”

“Good question. Actually, I haven’t thought about that. By the end of the semester, I guess. Our strength coach is running spring training with the boys. The decision with our former coach came rather quickly.”

“I understand.” Cody’s mind raced. “I can tell you if I’m interested by the end of the week. Then we can go from there.”

“Perfect.” The man sounded optimistic. “You’ve got my number. Call me when you know something.” Edwin thanked him again. “I think this school really needs you, Cody. Our team will be praying.”

The call ended and Cody turned to find DeMetri, his brow raised, eyes curious. “Who was that?” The kid stood and met Cody halfway. “What are you certainly gonna consider, Coach?”

Cody slipped his hands into his back pockets and motioned for DeMetri to walk with him. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to stay at Lyle. Like maybe God is leading me somewhere else.”

“What?” DeMetri rarely sounded angry. But this was one of those times. “You’re not leaving us, Coach. Not after I prayed for you to come to Lyle.” He stopped and stared at Cody, his eyes narrowed. “You’re
our
coach. Those other schools, they can find their own guy.”

They were out in front of DeMoss Hall on a shady tree-lined pathway. “Smitty, sometimes God calls us to a place and time for a season.” He stopped and looked around at the grand campus. “You’re leaving Lyle because God is calling you here. But you won’t be here forever.” He put his hand on DeMetri’s shoulder. “It’s that way for all of us.”

For a few seconds, anger framed Smitty’s face and tension made the muscles in his arms tight. Then slowly the fight left him, and his shoulders relaxed. “The guys need you, Coach.”

“They need each other.” There was another detail Cody hadn’t shared. “The team doesn’t know this … but I talked with Coach Schroeder. His son starts high school this year, and Schroeder’s crazy about the idea of being head coach. Something he’s prayed and dreamed about since the boy was born.”