Loving (9 page)

There was no answer this time, and as Bailey gave herself over to sleep she remembered something Brandon said at their curbside goodbye. That she had confirmed to him how much God loved him. But he had helped her too. Because love never looked as beautiful as it had over the last year.

The year she’d spent with Brandon Paul.

J
ENNY WAS BEGINNING TO DOUBT EVERYTHING SHE’D ALWAYS
believed about her daughter and the future God had for her. Some time ago she’d prayed about the certainty in her heart. The certainty that Bailey was and always would be with Cody Coleman. Back then she promised the Lord that this was not a story she would try to write. Rather, she would give God the pen and watch what He might do. After that, God seemed to show her that maybe Brandon was the one they’d been praying for, the right guy for Bailey.

Now Jenny wasn’t sure about anything.

Bailey had been home from California for two weeks and not once had she seemed like herself. Sure, she was helpful and friendly, and she and Connor had found again the friendship that once mattered so much to both of them. But her heart remained broken. More wounded than Jenny had ever seen in her daughter. Even after Cody walked away from her the last time.

Jenny had been on deadline for a magazine article she’d written for
Reader’s Digest
, and she was behind on the family’s email. Now, on the first Friday afternoon in April, an hour before the boys would be home from school, Jenny headed for the computer. But even as she did, she pictured Bailey that morning. Her eyes were different, like they belonged to a person who couldn’t find her way home. Even as she recounted the CKT auditions a couple weeks ago, she hadn’t seemed like herself.

Like a part of her was absent or dead.

Clearly the impact missing Brandon Paul had made on her daughter’s heart.

Jenny sat down at her desk, called up her Google account, and began looking at unopened emails. She was near the top of the list when a letter screamed for her attention. “Concerned about Bailey” the subject line read. Jenny opened it, confused. Who would’ve known something was wrong with Bailey? She was two lines into the letter when she realized who had written it. The area coordinator of CKT.

Dear Jenny, Just a quick note to let you know that several of us are worried about Bailey. She’s doing her job — doing it brilliantly. But she’s not the same girl. She isn’t as open with the kids, and the light in her eyes isn’t there
.

The letter went on to ask if Bailey had been sick, or if maybe she was more upset about losing her role on Broadway than she’d let on at first. Jenny closed the email, sat back in her chair, and closed her eyes. Bailey didn’t miss Broadway. She missed Brandon.

What can I do now, God? How can I help my daughter get past this heartache and loneliness?

The message came to her in a hurry, straight out of her Bible reading from earlier that day.

Trust me in all your ways … lean not on your own understanding
.

Jenny let her hands fall to her lap. The words were exactly what she needed. She’d leaned on her own understanding long enough. She pictured Brandon, the way he hung on Bailey’s laughter and conversation, the times she’d caught him gazing at Bailey when he didn’t think anyone was watching. Brandon adored Bailey, no doubt. But the problem the two of them faced now was too great to fix. Jenny remembered a conversation she’d had with Bailey last night.

“I miss him more every day.” She was loading the dishwasher while Jenny rinsed the plates. “But I feel sane again. I couldn’t take
it, Mom … the frenzy and running and paparazzi everywhere we went.”

“How does Katy handle it?”

“It’s different now.” Bailey leaned against the counter and tilted her head, thoughtful. “They’re out of the limelight so the tabloids leave them alone. Most of the time, anyway.”

Jenny had let that thought settle for a minute before she pointed out the obvious. “So that means at some point they won’t be after you and Brandon either.”

“But at what point?” The fear in Bailey’s eyes was all-consuming. “After they run us off the road? Or when they turn the whole country against me for something I might say or do, for some dress I wear wrong or for taking a picture and looking heavier than I did a week ago?” She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to live like that.”

Jenny stood up from her computer, the conversation still playing in her mind. She didn’t blame her daughter. But as real as the problem of living in Los Angeles was, it didn’t erase the other problem. The bigger problem. The desperate way Bailey longed for Brandon Paul.

She wandered into the hallway and up the stairs to Bailey’s room. There on her dresser was a photo of her and Brandon on the rooftop of the Keller’s apartment — the place where Brandon had created a magical prom night for Bailey. The love and light in their eyes was enough to make anyone linger on the photograph, wishing and wanting for that kind of love.

Jenny understood. That was still the sort of love she and Jim shared — the kind that comes along once in a lifetime and makes everything and everyone else step aside for it. A love Cody Coleman never showed Bailey.

Jenny ran her finger over the top of the photo frame and sat down on the edge of Bailey’s bed. Then she did the only thing she could do, the thing she’d done every day since Bailey returned
home. She prayed for her daughter, and for the young man God had set apart for her to marry one day. That the Lord would protect him and guide him and direct his steps on a path that would in time come face-to-face with Bailey’s. And as she prayed for her precious daughter, Jenny’s mind filled with the face of a handsome actor, a young man who loved Bailey like no one else had ever loved her.

The face of Brandon Paul.

F
IFTEEN DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE
B
AILEY
pulled herself away from Brandon and somehow climbed aboard a jet plane bound for Indiana. Bailey knew because she was counting. She and Brandon had talked a few times and texted every day. But each time he asked her to Skype, she found a reason to say no. What was the point? She was completely involved with the CKT show
Peter Pan
, and already the area coordinator had talked to Katy about Bailey running a summer camp in Bloomington.

If it weren’t for Brandon she could see spending her life here.

She could get through the days, keep herself busy, and find meaning and purpose working with the kids. Rehearsals reminded her of when she was an actor in the theater group herself. Back when she and Connor were kids. Some of the families who had been involved back then were still active in CKT now, and that, too, gave Bailey a sense of being home. Where she needed to be.

If only she could convince her heart.

Bailey pulled her family’s car into the driveway and parked in the third bay. She was driving a used Acura, something her parents had bought for the kids to drive. Eventually, though, Bailey would have to get her own car. It only made sense. She stepped out, grabbed her things, and stretched. Rehearsal had gone later than usual, and as Bailey walked through the door and into the family room she felt beyond drained.

The house was dark, so her parents must’ve gone to bed. Her brothers too, except Connor. She could hear him softly playing the piano in the living room. She set her things down and allowed herself to be pulled toward the music. Their eyes met as she stepped into the room and took the chair next to the piano. Connor smiled with his eyes and kept playing, kept singing. He was working on a Michael Bublé piece for Clear Creek’s talent show in a few weeks. A song called “Haven’t Met You Yet,” and Connor sang it beautifully.

When he finished, he relaxed his posture and turned toward her. “Rough night?”

“Yeah.” She leaned on the piano. “Actually, no. The kids are great. We’re already looking good for the opening number.”

Connor smiled. “I remember
Peter Pan
. It was one of my favorite shows.”

“You were the best Captain Hook ever.” She grinned at her brother. “Everyone else can only try to come close.”

“Aww, thanks.” He chuckled. “I think my voice might’ve cracked a few times, but it was fun.”

She let the silence settle between them for a few beats. Without warning she felt her eyes well up. “Nothing feels right.”

“Finish the show and go back to LA.” Connor understood her better than almost anyone except her mom. “You miss him bad, Bailey. It’s all over your face. Every night … every day.”

“I do miss him.” Her whole body hurt from missing him. “When I lived in New York I let myself believe that someway … somehow it could work for us. But these past few months … I couldn’t breathe, Connor. I mean, I thought taking the part in the NTM film would help, but really, I hated it. The whole celebrity thing, the paparazzi — then the way the studio changed the script on me. The whole thing … it’s not me. It never will be.”

“I guess you have just one question to answer then.” Connor
reached out and covered her hand with his. “What price will you pay for love?”

Bailey fell silent. It was the same question Katy had asked her. But why couldn’t Brandon tell the studio he needed to live here? Where they could have a more sane life, and she could write her book or find a future with CKT? Were the meetings really that important? Couldn’t he find a way to make it work if he loved her that much? She felt terrible thinking that way, but she couldn’t help it.

“Whether you liked LA or not, you left a piece of yourself back in Southern California.”

She nodded, trying to imagine ever going back. Her heart skittered around, slipping for a few seconds into an irregular rhythm at the thought. “I started doubting whether it was even real. But I can’t do that. I love him too much.”

Connor watched her, his face filled with empathy. “I’m sorry … I know it’s not easy.”

Two tears dropped onto the knees of her jeans. “No.” Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she pulled it out. The text message was from Brandon.
Baby, I can’t stop thinking about you. Please … get on Skype with me. I need to see you
.

“Brandon?”

“Yes.” Bailey stared at the text, and then slipped her phone back into her pocket again. “He wants to Skype.”

“And …” Connor’s tone was gentle.

“We will. We have to.” She held out her hands and let them fall on her lap. “But sometimes — in my worst moments — I wonder what’s the point? If we’re living in different states, where is all this even going?”

Connor watched her for another few seconds, then he stood and came to her, pulling her up onto her feet and hugging her. When he stepped back, she could see he understood. “I read a verse in Matthew today. ‘With God all things are possible.’” He
shrugged. “Maybe that’s something you can think about.” He took his phone from the top of the piano and checked the time. “Class comes early. I better get to sleep.”

Bailey hugged him again and the two of them headed upstairs together — the way they’d done as kids. At the top, Connor patted her back. “God will show you, Bailey. A way around the sadness.”

She nodded. “I know. Thanks.” She took a step back and managed to find a smile. “Goodnight, Connor.”

“Goodnight.”

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Bailey slipped into sweats and a T-shirt and crawled into bed. Like every night since she’d been home she looked at the picture of Brandon and her. Before she turned off the light she took her phone from the nightstand and found Brandon’s text message. She tapped her response out slowly, being careful with her words.
Sorry … not tonight. I miss you. I’m sorry about all this … it feels like it’s all my fault
.

His response came almost immediately, as if he were somehow downstairs waiting for her and not across the country in California.
It’s not your fault … it’s not anyone’s fault. But Bailey I need to see you, please. There has to be a way to make this work
.

She thought about the Scripture Connor reminded her of — with God all things were possible. How could that be true when, because of distance, it was only a matter of time before their relationship fell apart? Bailey read his last text again.
There has to be a way to make this work
.

She tapped her fingers across the screen again.
I’m praying. I can barely stand under the weight of missing you. Whatever else happens, you should know that. I definitely want to Skype
.

His response hit her at the deepest places of her heart.
Then let’s Skype right now. Why wait? Remember, if you need me, say the word. I’ll be right there, Bailey. Standing at your front door and ready to take you into my arms. There has to be a way
.

Bailey didn’t realize it until then, but she was crying again. The way she did almost every night since she’d been home. A few people had asked her if she was okay, and she always answered yes. She was okay. Glad to be home, certain that Bloomington was the sort of place she could live forever. But with Brandon she had been so much more than okay.

She dried her tears, climbed out of bed and grabbed her laptop. They skyped for a few minutes, and the feeling of his eyes on hers was like air to her lungs. But there were no answers, no absolutes, no solutions. After they finished the Skype session, she texted him.
Goodnight, Brandon. I love you
.

Maybe it wasn’t smart to tell him so when the distance between them made everything feel so uncertain. But at this hour, she could only be honest.

Her phone buzzed with his text.
You have my heart, Bailey. I’ll be in your dreams … the way you’ll be in mine. I’ll call you tomorrow
.

She typed quickly.
Brandon … you’re amazing. I’m sorry again
.

Her phone felt cold in her hand, nothing like if she were sitting across from Brandon, his fingers intertwined with hers. His message came quickly.
Don’t you get it, Bailey? I’m not letting you go. You can stay in Bloomington for a while, but every day while we’re apart I’ll pray for God to show you. That somehow you’ll trust me enough to come back. I can protect you, Bailey. Give me a chance
.

Her tears blurred the words as she tried to read them again. How could he know her heart so well? She typed one last text, because she couldn’t go to sleep without telling him again.
I love you. That’s all I know
.