Take One (23 page)

Chase lowered his brow. He looked from her to the pastor, and finally to Kelly. “You’re kidding me, right? Just joking?”

“No.” The pastor looked puzzled too. “That’s really what they’re doing. Catching fireflies.”

“But,” even in the dim light of the summer moon, they could all see the shock fill Chase’s expression. “That’s impossible.”
He shook his head. “Fireflies aren’t real.”

The pastor and his wife exchanged a slightly baffled look before the man turned to Chase again. “They’re definitely real.”
He pointed to the back of the church property. “There are probably hundreds out right now.”

“At least,” Kelly chimed in. “Don’t you see them, Chase? They look like twinkling lights because they turn on and off while
they fly.”

Chase was on his feet before she finished her sentence. “Come on,” he took hold of her hand. “Unless I hold one in my hand
I won’t believe it.” They moved quickly to the back of the property, but the closer they got to the laughing children, the
slower Chase walked. “Those … all those little lights in the air?” He looked at Kelly, sheer amazement in his eyes. “Those
are fireflies?”

“Yes.” She laughed from the joy of the moment. “I’ll catch you one.” She ran ahead and in no time she’d snagged one tiny firefly.
She cupped her fingers loosely around it and carefully transferred it to Chase’s hand. As she did, the firefly lit up for
a few seconds, and then went dark again.

Chase was so shocked, he nearly dropped the little bug, but he held on, staring at it through the cracks between his fingers
as it lit up again and again. He was so taken by the wonder and magic of the firefly, that his voice choked up. With the insect
still in his hand he looked long and hard into Kelly’s eyes. “Now … now nothing’s impossible. If God gave us fireflies … if
fireflies aren’t just the stuff of fairytales and pixie dust, then … then anything I might ever dream is possible.”

Because they were meeting friends they’d never met and because Kelly wanted to remember them, she happened to have a disposable
camera in her back pocket. She pulled it out and set the flash, and with the click of the button she captured a memory both
of them would hold onto forever.

Many years had passed since then, but even now the wonder in Chase’s eyes made her cry. God had used that moment time and
again over the years in Indonesia. They’d be in an impossible situation, facing a complete lack of food or the death of one
of the villagers, or a hostile faction of tribal people, and Chase would only have to look at her and say, “If fireflies are
real … then God can get us through this.”

Kelly held the picture with two hands and brought it closer, as if by looking intently into the long ago image, she could
somehow find her way back to the days of easy wonder and disbelief, the days when nothing seemed impossible. A sudden beautiful
realization filled her mind, and in a single heartbeat she knew what she needed to do.

Happy tears streamed down her face and she hugged the picture to her chest.
God … I hear You … I’ll do what You say, I promise.

“Mommy?” The tired voice came from behind her, and there was Molly, holding tight to her pink blankie. She padded closer and
with tender care she brushed Kelly’s bangs off her forehead. “Why are you crying?”

She couldn’t talk, couldn’t speak over the emotion falling like rain across her parched dry heart. She held up the picture.
“See this?”

“Yes. It’s Daddy.” She brought her blanket to her face. “Why does that make you cry?”

“It’s okay, baby.” She set the photo back in the box and hugged her little daughter. “Mommy’s not sad anymore, because I know
what I have to do.”

“Did Daddy tell you to do something?” Molly was still running her hand over Kelly’s hair.

“No, baby … I think God did.”

“Oh.” Molly lowered her blanket, suddenly serious. “If God told you to do it, then you better do it.”

“Right.”

Molly yawned and gave Kelly another hug around her neck. “I’m gonna go find Macy, okay? So she can get up.”

She had more control now. As Molly ran from the room calling for her sister, Kelly took a final look at the photo. But as
she slid the box back beneath the bed, an idea stopped her. She took the picture from the box and set it on her nightstand.
The afternoon suddenly held more promise than all the days of the past week combined. Not because she had any answers to their
troubles, or because she missed Chase any less. But because for the first time since Chase started this movie business, she
knew exactly what she was supposed to do. And she would do that thing no matter how much work it took.

Because this was something God told her to do.

Twenty-One

B
AILEY SPENT ALL THE DAY
S
ATURDAY
with her brothers, watching Shawn, Justin, and BJ play soccer, and catching the last half of Ricky’s flag football game.
The boys played great, and Bailey loved sitting with her parents and Connor on the sidelines. He was in rehearsal for CKT’s
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
, but he was off this morning, so the two of them had the afternoon of sports together.

But even with all that distraction, Bailey couldn’t get the image of Andi and Cody together out of her head. Even if twenty-four
hours had passed. Neither of them knew she’d seen them talking in Andi’s car, but she had. And the memory wouldn’t fade.

They went to the five o’clock church service that night—a favorite with the family since the middle school class met then,
and since their dad was busy most of Sunday helping coach the Colts. The message was from Romans 5, and Bailey felt like it
was written specifically for her, like someone had called ahead on her behalf and given the pastor exactly what she needed.

Romans 5 taught that a person who loved and trusted Jesus didn’t only have the guarantee of salvation, but a great deal of
hope as well. Hope in eternity, hope in knowing God would always be there in the person of the Holy Spirit, and most hard
to understand, hope in trials.

Bailey was well aware that compared with people starving in India or being persecuted in China, compared with a homeless man
on a busy Los Angeles street or a cancer patient wasting away in a hospital—she had no trouble whatsoever. Not a single trial.
But in light of what she’d seen last night, in that sermon she heard the words anew, like she’d never heard them before. The
hope came in this: Suffering would eventually develop perseverance, and perseverance would in time create character. And character
… the knowing … the knowledge that nothing could change your faith or belief or place with God … that would then bring about
hope.

Tim was with his family all day, and the two of them had texted only a few times. Still, last night had been full of laughter
and good times. Back at her house after the game they played Catch Phrase and ordered pizza and laughed at BJ’s pronouncement
that he wanted some “sally” cream with his burrito. The boys might’ve been home from Haiti for seven years, but there were
still times when BJ didn’t quite have the right English phrase to describe what he wanted.

“All this time?” Their dad asked him, the laughter slipping out between his words. “All this time you thought it was sally
cream?”

BJ only grinned and shrugged. “Sally cream … sour cream … whatever.”

Bailey and Tim had been sitting by each other, and they laughed until Bailey could barely breathe. BJ had that effect on the
family, and all of them loved it. Most of all BJ. So the night was good, and Tim’s hug before he left was sweet and appropriate.
He was sticking to his promise not to let things get physical on a regular basis. Kisses would be for special times, infrequent
at best.

But all that good hadn’t helped her sleep last night, and it hadn’t stopped her from feeling secretly wounded all day. Not
until they were back home did her mom find her and gently put her hand on her shoulder. “What’s the matter, honey? You look
upset.”

A sad sound came from Bailey’s throat. “You know me too well.”

“I thought I picked up on it last night, but then … you seemed pretty happy with Tim, so I thought maybe it had passed.”

“The message tonight helped.” Bailey closed her eyes and leaned into her mother’s arms. “I just don’t get it, Mom. I keep
trying to let it go, but I don’t know … I feel betrayed I guess.”

Her mom put her arms around Bailey’s shoulders, and for a long moment Bailey returned to last night after the game. She was
leaving the stadium, walking up the sloped path toward the parking lot wondering why Cody hadn’t at least walked over to say
hello, when up ahead she spotted Andi’s blue Jetta. She was shivering from the cold night air, and she hugged herself as she
realized what she was seeing.

Andi’s car door was open and someone who looked a lot like Cody was stepping out, his attention still on Andi. She slowed
her pace, and as the guy stood she sucked in a fast breath. He was definitely Cody, which meant what? Ever since Cody had
left the stadium without talking to her, he’d been sitting here with Andi? Talking to her instead? She didn’t want them to
see her, so she blended better with the crowd and didn’t look their way again.

Tim had been walking beside her. He picked up on her instant hurt, and leaned in close so she could hear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a little cold.” Bailey really was cold, but she could hardly tell her boyfriend the rest of what was wrong.
That she was feeling hurt and betrayed because Cody had spent an hour or so with her roommate.

“You think she’s interested in him?” Her mom drew back and with a light touch she lifted Bailey’s chin so they could see each
other. “Wouldn’t Andi have told you?”

“I don’t know.” That’s why for the rest of the night she had to hide her sorrow. It wouldn’t have been fair to Tim to bring
down the mood of the evening.

The boys had friends over in the next room, and their dad was reviewing plays for tomorrow. Her mom led her to the coat closet.
“Put on something warm. Let’s sit out front and talk.”

Bailey loved this about her mother, how she was always willing to make time for her, no matter what was on Bailey’s mind—whether
it was nerves over an audition or a struggle in school, or something about a boy. Lately they’d had several talks about Cody,
and always they reached the same conclusion. Cody cared for her, yes. But if he continued to tell Bailey that Tim was better
for her, then he must not be very interested.

Bailey and her mom found the warmest coats in the closet, along with an old warm quilt and a pair of scarves. “This ought
to keep us warm.” Bailey giggled.

“Even if a blizzard comes up.”

They both laughed as they headed outside and sat down on the first porch swing. Once they were bundled up, Bailey leaned her
head on her mother’s shoulder. “I like Tim. This isn’t about that, you know?”

“Yes.” Her mom put her arm around Bailey’s shoulders. “Tim’s a very nice boy. The two of you have always seemed right for
each other. On paper, anyway.”

“See, that’s just it. Why on paper?” She straightened and looked into her mom’s eyes. “Because that’s the way I feel too.
Like he’s great in every way, but I’m still not sure I’m really in love with him.”

“Being in love is a serious thing, honey. You’ve saved yourself physically; it’s okay to save yourself emotionally, as well.
That way when you commit yourself in love to a young man, it’ll be incredibly special. You’re still very young to have that
forever kind of love.”

Bailey liked the sound of that, and it made her feel less guilty about dating Tim, even though she wasn’t ready to tell him
she loved him, or to even feel in love with him. She liked him better this week than last, and the fact that he was opening
up more about his feelings made things much nicer between them. She exhaled and set the swing gently in motion. “Which brings
us to Cody.”

“Ah, yes.” Her mom’s tone was full and pensive, because no one knew better than her mother what Cody meant to her. “I remember
watching that boy come through the door on the Fourth of July, still on crutches, missing his lower left leg. I watched you
register the fact, and then let it go.”

“Because it didn’t matter at all.”

“I was upstairs near my bedroom door, so I saw the two of you talking before I went in my room. I thought to myself, No one
has ever looked at Bailey like that.” Her mom took a slow breath. “I told your dad that night that I thought Cody adored you,
and both of us said we wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you dated.”

“I know. I thought that, too.” Bailey was about to go into how Cody had practically ordered her to keep her feelings to nothing
more than friendship. But as she went to explain that moment, her phone in her back pocket rang. She pulled it out and saw
in the caller ID window that it was Andi. “Interesting timing,” Bailey muttered. She made a face. “Hold on, okay? I wanna
take this.” She snapped open her phone and pressed it to her ear. “Hey, Andi.”

“Hi!” She sounded a little too happy and upbeat. Probably because of her great night with Cody. “So where were you after the
game?”

“We came home with the family.” Bailey worked to keep her voice upbeat. “Did you end up going to the game?”

“Yeah. Got there after halftime, though, and guess who I saw?”

“Who?” She wanted to hear the entire story from Andi’s perspective.

“Cody Coleman! He was just leaving as I was getting there, and he told me you had Tim with you.” She stopped only long enough
to grab another breath. “I didn’t really have the best night, and I wanted to talk to you so bad. But I figured if you had
Tim with you …”

“I still would’ve talked. Tim isn’t glued to my side.”

“I know. But after I ran into Cody we started talking. He ended up sitting in my car through the rest of the game. At the
end when people started coming out, we both looked but we never saw you or your brothers or your dad … none of you.”

Bailey chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to make things awkward with her roommate, but she was dying to know. “What’d
you guys talk about? Anything serious?”

“Sort of.” Andi’s tone gave her away; she was interested in Cody, no doubt. “We both shared long stories with each other.
I told him about my night—which I still have to tell you—and then he told me his story—how come he lived with your family,
and why you and he never had a thing.”

Bailey’s heart slammed into doubletime. Cody had talked with Andi about that? Again she didn’t want to sound accusatory or
rushed. When she’d allowed the right amount of hesitation, she laughed, as if to say the idea had never crossed her mind.
“So, what did he say?”

“He said he’s always been more like a brother to you.” Everything about Andi’s tone told Bailey she felt innocent of any wrongdoing,
that her conversation with Cody felt—to Andi at least—like the most natural way to spend an hour on a Friday night.

But Bailey felt her heart crumble at the picture, Cody sharing his thoughts with Andi. She looked at her mom and shook her
head, silently telling her that the conversation from Andi wasn’t good. At least not for Bailey.

Andi was saying how they had a lot in common, how Cody knew what it was like to live dangerously, to experience life. “And
I told him how sometimes I want that life. You know, since I’ve been so sheltered.”

Bailey rolled her eyes. “If I know Cody he didn’t encourage that.”

“No. Definitely not.” She allowed the familiar confusion to enter her tone. “But I told him it’s tough sometimes. Like my
date with Jake. I told him you were in love with Tim and happy and enjoying life, but who did God have for me? Since there
was no one, I figured I’d go out with Jake because, well … why not? That’s what I told him.”

By now, Bailey really didn’t want to hear about Andi’s date with Jake. Everything about her actions Friday and her conversation
with Cody felt like a ploy for attention, somehow. For the first time she wasn’t sure she and Andi could be the best of friends—not
if it meant Andi always getting in trouble and then using Cody to talk things over and find direction again. But Bailey couldn’t
be rude, so she listened anyway. She heard about the drive to the lake, and the strange feelings Andi had that maybe she was
in danger, and the kiss, and Katy and Dayne. All of it.

“So, in some ways I guess I did what I set out to do. I had my first kiss with Jake Olson. But it obviously wasn’t great,
or I wouldn’t have come looking for you.” She paused. “Cody could tell I’d been crying. That’s why we started talking in the
first place.”

Bailey’s mom was watching her, so she stopped herself from rolling her eyes again. She had told her mom before that she hated
when she started feeling bitter toward anyone. This was one of those times. The call didn’t last much longer. Andi said she
had homework to finish, and Bailey wanted alone-time with her mother.

“That didn’t sound so good.” Her mom’s tone wasn’t probing, just concerned. Again she put her arm over Bailey’s shoulders.

“No. You should’ve heard her, Mom.” As she went to close her phone, it vibrated and a text message came through. Bailey glanced
at the small window on the front and saw it was from Tim. “Just a minute.” She flipped open her phone and read the message
on the bigger screen.
Just missing you, B … asking God to give you the hug I can’t give you tonight.

Bailey smiled and held it up for her mother to see. “You know how good it is to hear that right now?”

“Tim’s matured a lot.” Her mom smiled at the message and then at Bailey. “That was a very kind thing to say.”

“Just that he’s praying for me and he reaches out like that.” She crossed her arms and settled back against the cushion of
the chair swing. “Cody walked right past me yesterday at the game without saying a word.”

“Well, now …” her mom angled her head, a doubtful look on her face, “to be fair, you were with Tim. I saw him look at you
as he left. I figured he probably felt uncomfortable coming over when you were with your boyfriend.”

“But why?” Bailey would never understand Cody, not the way he was since he’d been home from Iraq. She tossed her hands and
let them fall in her lap. “He’s the one who’s always talking about being friends, and what a great guy Tim is for me. If that’s
how he feels then he should be glad I’m with my boyfriend.”

“Bailey.” Her mom’s tone said that she didn’t for a minute believe that. “Come on, honey, that’s not how Cody feels. I told
you I saw the look in his eyes when he was here on the Fourth. He adores you, but maybe …” her expression grew thoughtful
and she looked out into the night, “maybe he doesn’t think he’s good enough for you. He still sees himself as having a lot
of baggage.”