Take Three (6 page)

He had stood at the brink of disaster, toes over the edge of a cliff from which there would’ve been no return, nothing but certain destruction. The thought hit him like a freight train as he flipped off the television and stared at the darkened screen. There would be other women with every stage of filmmaking, actresses and casting agents and directors. People drawn to the success of
Jeremiah Productions. If he could so easily let his feelings get out of hand for Kendall, what about the next woman to come along? Or the one after that?

He lowered his head to his hands.
God, I need Your help. What’s the answer? I don’t care about the fame, but what if I can’t handle the temptations? What if I mess up?
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture his wife—his amazing wife—back home with their two daughters. Trusting him, believing in him. Needing him. And what about his little girls—Molly and Macy.

Marketing
The Last Letter
, planning and filming their next picture. All of it would take more time away from home. Already he’d missed much of the past year—time he wouldn’t get back again.
Help me, God. Show me what You want me to do. Please, Lord.

Suddenly he remembered the words Keith had said earlier, how easy it would be to win the world for Christ through film, and meanwhile lose themselves. Chase stood and walked to the bathroom, gripped the granite countertop, and stared at himself in the mirror.
I need an answer, God. Please show me how to survive this.

Back in his bedroom he found the framed photo of Kelly and the girls, the one he took on road trips. His heart hurt as he picked it up and stared at the faces he loved. How close had he come tonight to falling? Slowly and with an ache in his chest, Chase dropped back to the bed, the picture still clutched in his hands. “No, God…please no,” his words were an anguished whisper. “I don’t want to fail. I need Your protection.” He couldn’t have even a hint of impropriety. Not now or ever. “Show me the way, please.”

When his desperate prayer was over, he struggled to his feet and realized how strange this night had been—the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. He was not going to make films for God only to lose his marriage along the way. He knew what he
had to do, and he strode purposefully to his laptop, opened it, and set it on the small desk.

With a series of clicks he ordered a dozen long-stemmed roses sent to Kelly at their home address. On the note card he directed them to write only this: “We won big tonight, but it was not the same without you. I love you more than you know. Chase.”

He scheduled the roses to be delivered the next day, and then he made the call he should’ve made an hour ago. Kelly had never sounded more glad to hear from him, more absolutely trusting. The girls were in bed, of course, and she’d been waiting for his call. Macy’s fever was down, and Kelly thought she had turned the corner and was recovering from the flu. Chase savored every word that came across the line. Her voice was like an oasis, an embrace that brought a physical comfort, one that soothed every rough, jagged part of his heart.

“I prayed for you,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

Guilt sliced through his soul because he couldn’t tell her everything. Not the part about his temptations and struggles or how the reporters thought Kendall was his wife or how even Ben Adams had been concerned that Chase and Kendall might have an attraction to each other. Kelly didn’t deserve those details. Instead he told her everything else. About the paparazzi and the enormous crowd outside the theater, the packed house, and the representatives from every studio in Hollywood.

“Honey, that’s amazing.” She released a quiet squeal. “It’s everything I asked God about.”

He finished by telling her about the offer from American Pictures and the news that NTM had retracted their earlier announcement about Brandon Paul. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and the whole thing will be one wonderful dream.” He closed his eyes and massaged his brow. He hated this, feeling like a phony. He didn’t deserve any part of what was happening around him. Least of all, the loving woman waiting back home for him. He kept his tone appropriately upbeat. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“But it is. Because God’s doing this, Chase.” Her love, her support, warmed her words and touched him deeply. She paused, and passion filled her voice. “I only wish I were there with you.”

They talked a while longer, and before their conversation ended, Kelly remembered one last thing. “Check your email. I forgot to tell you, but Pastor Hastings called. I guess he sent you something. Said it was time sensitive.”

“About the movie?”

“He didn’t say.” Kelly didn’t sound too concerned about the message. “I’m so proud of you, Chase. I love you so much.”

Again Chase felt sick about what could’ve happened. He swallowed hard. “I love you too, baby. I can’t wait to see you.”

“This is just the beginning.”

“Exactly.”
The beginning of what?
Chase wondered. A sick feeling wrapped its arms around him. “I miss you.”

“You too. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

As the call ended, Chase set the phone down on the end table and stared at the plain beige wall across from him. If this was the beginning, then did that mean he’d face a life of temptation and terrible guilt? Years of being away from home and spending long days on the road? He felt weary and lifeless, and more than anything he wanted to be home with Kelly and the girls. He remembered the email, and he stood slowly, like a man twice his age.

Why would Pastor Hastings email him? The man was in his seventies, a respected teacher known throughout the area for his wisdom and Bible knowledge. Their church was made up of several leaders and thousands of members, but Chase doubted the main pastor had a clue about the movie industry or what Chase was working on. He opened his Mac, waited the few seconds while it sprang to life, and opened his mailbox. The email from the pastor was near the top. The subject line read “Opportunity.”

Had the pastor come across local investors? Chase clicked the email open and saw that it was brief. Only a few lines. He narrowed his eyes, confused, and began reading.

Dear Chase,

I want to make you aware of a recent opportunity. Our youth pastor has unexpectedly moved back to New Jersey because of a family crisis. Our team met this morning and prayed about a replacement candidate, and your name quickly rose to the top of our list. We are aware of your previous experience and your education in ministry. I understand that your new ventures have taken you away much of the time. Therefore, this may not be something you’re interested in pursuing. But then again, it might bring you closer to home and the role of raising your young daughters.

Please do not feel pressured to take the position. Either way our team would appreciate a response at your soonest convenience. Until then we are praying for your thoughtful consideration.

Because of Him,

Pastor Joseph Hastings

Chase stared at the email and then read it over again three times. If he thought he was dreaming before, this was the clincher. Pastor Hastings was asking him to be youth pastor at their church? A youth pastor, when already Chase had committed to making movies, to producing and directing? Did no one at the church know how much success they were having in Hollywood?

The email was still shouting at him, so Chase closed it and shut down his computer. Why in the world would his name rise to the top of the list of candidates capable of leading the church’s youth? Sure he was trained in ministry, and he’d served as an ordained pastor on the mission fields. But still…a youth pastor? He thought back, remembering a decade ago before filmmaking became a part of his life. For a brief season his dream had been youth ministry. But Pastor Hastings couldn’t have known that.

Chase dismissed the thought and turned his heart once more to the Lord.
God, I have no idea why Pastor Hastings sent me that
email, but help me turn him down gently. In the meantime, I need an answer about the future, God.
Chase rolled onto his back, restless. He sighed out loud, grabbed a pillow, and pulled it to his chest. He needed a way to handle times like tonight, a stronger spirit, a greater resolve. Whatever it took so he could survive this season of filmmaking and still come out the man he was before this crazy ride started. He stared at the ceiling, restless and unsure. God had given him a warning tonight. Now Chase could only believe that if God had helped him survive a night of temptation, He would show him how to survive a lifetime of it.

He wasn’t going to let the devil tempt him with Kendall or anyone else. This was God’s mission field, not a Hollywood playground. He wouldn’t fail his wife or his faith or his family. Chase was surer about that than he was about his next breath. And with that certainty, he was finally able to drift off to sleep dreaming about the only woman he would ever love.

His precious wife, Kelly.

A
NDI HAD HER TEST RESULTS
. M
OST
of the night she’d been staring at the white plastic stick, her pulse fast and irregular, her mouth dry, panic coursing through her. One minute she’d lie on her bed crying her eyes out, and the next she’d pace her room, frantic, desperate for a way out. There was none.

She was pregnant with Taz’s child. There was no hiding from the fact any longer.

This new reality had been a part of her for several hours, but the shock was still decimating its way through her, tearing apart her soul and screaming at her for all the ways she’d failed. Andi looked at the clock and saw it was nearly two in the morning. She pulled herself out of bed, and in a rush, a wave of nausea dragged her down. As fast as she could move, she hurried to the bathroom and fell to her knees at the edge of the toilet. For the third time that night, she dry-heaved into the cold porcelain bowl, gasping for air between convulsions.

She hadn’t eaten all night, so nothing came up. Nothing but the reality that her life was never going to be the same again. Her stomach twisted and turned until Andi wondered if she might collapse there on the bathroom floor. It was like her body was rebelling, the way she had rebelled against God and her family, against the wisdom of her roommate, Bailey, and her deceased friend, Rachel Baugher.

The wave passed, though her stomach still hurt desperately. She rocked back on her heels and hung her head. Maybe if she threw up enough times the pregnancy would go away. She clung
to the toilet and tried to steady herself. But the room rocked and tilted and she didn’t dare move.

Like she’d done countless times that night, she thought again about her lack of options. In the moments after she had her news she made a desperate call to Taz.
Stupid
, she told herself now. What good could he possibly do now that she was pregnant? Did she really expect him to take the news with kindness and compassion? Come to her and promise to stay by her side? Did she think he’d offer to marry her and make a life with her and their child?

Her attempt to reach him never even got that far. A girl answered his phone, and in the background she could hear Taz scolding her to hang up. “That’s my phone,” he hissed at her. Then the line went dead. Andi vowed it was the last time she would call him. Her next call had been to her parents, not that she was about to tell them her news. Rather, she wanted to hear their voices, to know that the safe world of hope and truth in Christ still existed somewhere.

But her father didn’t answer his cell, and when her mom picked up, what sounded like a loud celebration in the background made it impossible for her to hear. “Andi,” her mom shouted above the noise, “everyone loved the film! Your father and I are so happy, sweetheart. Wish you were here.”

“Mom…I don’t feel good.”

The noise on the other end grew louder. “What? Andi, can you speak up? Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She practically yelled her response, tears streaming down her face. “Go celebrate, Mama. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow. I love you, honey!”

And with that she was alone again, sitting in her room, the walls closing in around her. The room stopped spinning and Andi opened her eyes. She was weak and drenched in sweat and her stomachache spread through her whole body. She moved slowly
to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, but all she could see was Taz. She covered her face and shook her head. How could she have believed someone so opposed to God, someone so dangerous? What possessed her to agree with him, that nudity in film meant quality movie-making? The idea was disgusting. Or that sleeping with him was some sick form of art?

She shuddered and grabbed the toilet again. The memory of his sickly suggestive words choked her, made it hard for her to draw a breath. With everything in her she had known Taz was wrong for her, but she’d ignored every sound, godly thought that crossed her mind back then. How could she have let herself fall so fully, so thoroughly? She would give anything to be the old Andi again. To be Bailey Flanigan—sure of her convictions, confident in her faith. If only Bailey were here right now, maybe Andi could tell her the truth about being pregnant. But Bailey was at the Cru retreat—where Andi might’ve been if she hadn’t chosen her own ways. And Rachel was with Jesus in heaven—where she couldn’t do Andi a single bit of good.

What would it matter anyway? She could stand in the Indiana University commons and tell the whole student body she was pregnant. No amount of sympathy or understanding could change the fact. Taz’s baby was growing inside her. She was no longer a virgin, no longer the sweet Andi Ellison, innocent daughter of missionaries, no longer a young girl with the world ahead of her. She had given up her innocence without a fight, and now she’d be better off dead.

For the first time in her life she understood why someone might want to die. If her heart stopped right now, her parents would never know the truth. She wouldn’t have to go through life with the knowledge that she’d broken her promise to God and ruined her future. She swallowed hard and leaned closer to the cool white rim. In a violent rush, another series of dry heaves shook her body and made it almost impossible to breathe.

The room slowly stopped spinning and Andi opened her eyes tentatively. She was weak and drenched in sweat, but she needed to rest, even just a little. Her body shook as she planted her feet on the floor and dragged herself up.

Halfway to her bed she caught a glimpse of Rachel, smiling at her from the framed photo that still hung on the wall near the window. Andi had always felt sorry for Rachel, saving herself for the right guy, believing in God’s plans for her life only to be snuffed out in a car accident far too soon. Rachel’s death convinced Andi that God was unfair at best. If anyone deserved a rich, full life it was Rachel Baugher. But now, betrayed by her body and certain that her future was ruined, Rachel seemed like the lucky one. Safe in heaven, walking with Jesus, free of the confusion and hurt of this world. Rachel had hoped for an abundant life, and God had given her that, after all.

Just not the way any of them had expected.

She fell into bed and curled up on her side. Lying there, her heart raced, her lungs refused to work correctly, and Andi could only see two options, two ways out of her current nightmare. She could kill herself. First she’d have to find a way, and then she’d have to have the guts to pull it off. Pills maybe, or she could suffocate herself somehow. Her problems would be over, but what about her parents? What about Bailey? The people who knew her would suffer the aftereffects of her suicide for years. Maybe forever.

The idea made her feel more sick than before, and from the pit of her stomach a slow anger began to churn within her. Why should she kill herself? Why put her family through that sort of heartache and pain? This wasn’t their fault, and it wasn’t hers either. Taz was to blame for this mess she was in. He’d known about her faith and conviction, but he’d led her down the path of destruction anyway. He could’ve chosen any girl, but he chose her. This nightmare was his fault.

Which led her to her other conclusion: She would put Taz out of her mind and have the baby on her own, love the baby with every day of her life from this point on. She would be the sort of mother her own mom had been to her, even if she never had a man to help her.

Andi rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She would move to California, live with her parents in San Jose. Her mom would help her know what to do, how to take care of the baby without the help of a husband. When to change the baby’s diapers, when a cry meant the baby was hungry or tired or sick. And when the baby was a few months old, Andi would go back to school. When she had her degree she would make a great life for the two of them. She and her baby.

As soon as she had a plan, she put her hands protectively over her stomach and felt herself drifting off, dreaming about the days ahead and the life she would choose to live, not for herself. But for her baby. Andi felt fresh tears in her eyes. She had done everything wrong when it came to love, made every wrong choice and believed every wrong thing Taz had ever told her.

But this…this she would do right.