“This is the fun part.” Brandon spoke softly, his flirty voice for Bailey alone. He turned and kissed her. Then he whispered close to her face, “You’re gorgeous. If I haven’t told you.” He kissed her again to the sound of the clicking cameras. “I still can’t believe God gave me you.”

  “Okay!” The bark of the marketing director interrupted the moment. “Move on, please.”

  Brandon laughed again. “Never changes.” He took Bailey’s hand and they walked inside the theater lobby.

  “Hey, you lovebirds!” Dayne Matthews walked up and hugged Brandon. Their producer friend looked beyond thrilled about something. “So . . . good news! We’ve added another three hundred screens. That puts us equal to any movie this year.”

  “Really?” Brandon looked from Dayne to Bailey. “We prayed for that.”

  “We did.” She loved moments like this, when God answered prayers even in this crazy world of moviemaking.

  Katy walked up and Dayne put his arm around her. “We prayed, too . . . that nothing would hold the film back, and that people would be touched.”

  “Reporters want to talk to you both.” Dayne nodded toward the front of the lobby. “Shouldn’t take long.”

  The four of them walked toward the interview area, and as they passed through the crowd Bailey took it all in. She was glad she and Brandon spent barely any time in LA now. Most auditions for faith-based films were in Atlanta or Nashville, and when Brandon needed to meet with studio executives in California, he could do so by Skype.

  But tonight’s celebration was important and appreciated. Bailey was glad to be here in person, because they had all worked hard to create this movie. In the interview area, one of the reporters asked them about their other life, the one in Bloomington.

  “We promised each other we’d make Indiana our home,” Brandon answered first. “We’ve kept that promise . . . and it’s working well for us.”

  Bailey explained that she and Brandon had developed nearly an entire city block of downtown Bloomington, an area they called the Arts Center. They had created a beautiful theater as part of their B&B Productions.

  Brandon shared that half the block contained discounted office space for local missions and ministries. “And our new coffee shop and café are constantly busy.” He sounded passionate as he finished answering the question. “We committed this dream to God when we married. And now it’s coming true.”

  The reporter seemed satisfied—though Bailey wondered how much of Brandon’s answer she would use. The two of them could’ve talked for hours about their life in Bloomington. Not only the Arts Center, but their personal lives in Indiana. The blessing that she and Brandon could raise their little girl around family, and still see her brothers’ football, baseball and basketball games.

  Life was rich, indeed.

  Even moments like this when Bloomington felt very far away.

  When the interview was over, Bailey and Brandon walked with Dayne and Katy into the theater and they took their seats. Brandon held Bailey’s hand and she savored the feel of his fingers against hers. Tonight was important. A way of acknowledging a job well done.

  When the time came, Dayne stood and walked to the front. He wore a fitted navy suit, looking the part of Hollywood royalty.

  Brandon leaned close to her. “I smile every time I think of his story.”

  “Me, too.” Bailey watched Dayne as he found the wireless mic. He tapped it a few times, but it wasn’t working. Bailey kept her voice low. “He’s such a different person now.”

  A smile lifted Brandon’s lips. “I know.”

  Of course, Dayne’s transformation had been years ago. Today many people might not know or recall his early wild years of fame. But his true fans would always remember his story. How Dayne had been the oldest son of John and Elizabeth Baxter, given up at birth and raised by adoptive parents—missionaries overseas. John and Elizabeth never knew their son’s adoptive parents had died in a plane crash when he was just eighteen years old. Or that he had grown up to be Dayne Matthews, the actor. They never imagined Dayne would find them days before Elizabeth died of cancer.

  But he did.

  The story could’ve made its own amazing movie. Dayne had lived dangerously back then, known for his good looks and wild behavior.

  But finding the Baxters had changed everything for Dayne. He had told Bailey and Brandon that though he would always love his adoptive parents, he considered himself a Baxter. He always would.

  At the front of the theater, a couple of tech guys finally got the mic to work. “There we go.” Dayne faced the audience. “Welcome, everyone.” He smiled at the tech duo. “I think we all know who the real stars are. We’re nowhere without tech support.”

  A chorus of easy laughter filled the theater. Bailey looked around and chills ran down her arms. Every seat was taken, and an electricity filled the air. She wondered if everyone felt the same way she did. Like something very special was about to happen with this film. The story might not only entertain those who saw the movie, it might actually change culture for the better. Bring into focus what was really important.

  Forgiveness. Redemption. Second chances.

  Dayne waited until the crowd quieted. “I want to thank a number of people who helped make The Chance the amazing movie you’re about to see.” He smiled, obviously comfortable in front of the packed house. “But I decided to do it this way instead.”

  He paused and looked slowly at the hundreds of faces in front of him. “If you were an assistant, a grip, someone who carried coffee or moved cords or served us in any way during the making of this movie, would you please stand.”

  Gradually a couple dozen surprised attendees rose to their feet. The applause started loud and stayed that way. No one looked more appreciative than Dayne. “You, my friends, are the most important people here.”

  “Love this.” Brandon squeezed Bailey’s hand and whispered, “Class act.”

  Dayne asked those standing to remain that way. Then he asked others to join them. Those involved in directing, in producing, the actors, the set designers, family members and friends who lent weeks of support, and so on until everyone was standing. Dayne added his applause to the mix, and when everyone had returned to their seats he squared his shoulders to the crowd again, as if he were taking in the moment. “I thank God for each of you. Really.” His smile softened. “Let’s pray.”

  Dayne asked God to bless the night, and even more to bless the film. “Let it touch this generation with truth. Let it remind us that whatever the division, with God there can be healing. Racial healing. Relational healing. Marital healing. Even a healing with God. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”

  Brandon leaned close to Bailey and whispered, “He makes me want to be a producer.”

  “You’d be fantastic.” Bailey brushed her face against his. “I love this, by the way. Being here. It’s so different from other movies.”

  The next two hours flew by and Bailey found herself laughing at some parts and wiping tears at others. The entire theater seemed moved.

  When the film ended, the crowd erupted with applause, and as the theater emptied into a reception in the lobby, Bailey and Brandon celebrated with full hearts. The feeling that something special was about to happen with the movie remained with her on their flight back to Indiana.

  When the plane landed, Bailey leaned her head on Brandon’s shoulder. Her doctor had told her she could fly this late in her pregnancy because she was healthy. But still she was tired. She yawned. “I’m ready to be home.”

  “Me, too.” He put his hand on her knee. “You need your rest. Lots going on. Besides, I miss our regular life.”

  She smiled at him. He knew her so well. “Exactly.”

  In two days they’d hold auditions and callbacks for their next community theater show. Rehearsals would start in two weeks, and a few days after that they would join Bailey’s family and most of the Baxters for the first big barbecue of the season. The party would be crowde
d—filled with family and friends—just the way it always was with the Baxters.

  Bailey smiled. She loved how anyone could show up at one of those summer dinners.

  She could hardly wait.

  • • •

  BAILEY WAS JUST beginning to unpack when Andi Ellison called. A quick smile and Bailey answered it on the second ring. “Andi!” The two of them were still best friends. They talked at least every few weeks, but it had been more than a month this time.

  “Hi there.” Andi sounded muffled. Like she wasn’t in a good service area. “How was the premiere?”

  “This one’s going to change lives. I really believe that.” Bailey sat down on the edge of the bed. “We found out what we’re having!” Her voice brimmed with excitement.

  “What? Tell me! I’m dying over here!” Andi’s voice sounded clearer now. “Wait! Let me guess.”

  “Okay . . .” Bailey paused. “Boy or girl?”

  Andi hesitated. “Okay . . . let’s see. Well, every time I pray for you I feel like I’m praying for a girl. That’s my guess.”

  “You’re right!”

  “I am!” Andi squealed. “Bailey! You’re having a little girl.” She sounded like she was half crying, half laughing. “That’s the best news ever!”

  “Thanks.” Bailey loved the way her friend celebrated her. Never mind that Andi’s life hadn’t always gone how she had planned. Andi sounded nothing but thrilled for Bailey. She stood and returned to the suitcases. There had to be three loads of laundry between her things and Brandon’s. “I wish you were here. We haven’t had coffee in forever.”

  “We haven’t. I hate that about this job.”

  Ever since Andi had started her job, Bailey hadn’t seen her once. Andi was doing great work. But she missed her friend. There was a time when every visit Bailey made to Los Angeles, she would get together with Andi.

  Now it had been six months since they’d seen each other.

  Bailey wasn’t sure she should ask the next question. But it was on her heart, and she and Andi didn’t keep anything from each other. “Have . . . you heard from Cody?”

  The silence on the other end told Bailey she might’ve made a mistake. But when Andi finally responded, there was no anger in her voice. Just the familiar hurt. The way she always sounded when she talked about Cody Coleman. “Not for a long time. Months.” She sounded broken by the fact. “Then the other night he called.”

  The baby kicked a few times and Bailey felt the muscles in her belly tighten. She made her way to the bed and sat down again. “What did he say?”

  Andi sighed. “I didn’t answer the phone.”

  “What?” Bailey felt her stomach relax again. The occasional tightenings were nothing to worry about. That’s what her doctor had said at their last visit. She searched for the right words for her friend. “Andi . . . you need to take his call.” She hesitated. “What if he’s changed? Maybe he has something really important to tell you.”

  Again Andi made no response. Bailey wondered if they’d been disconnected. “Andi?”

  “I’m here. I just . . . I don’t know what to do. He’s broken my heart so many times.” She hesitated. “And . . . well, there’s this other guy. His name’s Caleb.”

  “Caleb? I haven’t heard about him.” Bailey felt a twinge of uneasiness. She couldn’t imagine Andi and Cody not getting back together. Now or somewhere down the road.

  Andi took a quick breath. “He works with me. He’s from Amsterdam.” Her sigh filled the phone line. “I mean, I can’t see moving to Europe. But what if he’s the guy?”

  Bailey was slow with her response. She was glad her friend trusted her with this new information. “So . . . he’s moving back to Amsterdam?”

  “In a year.”

  “Got it.” Bailey tried to gather her thoughts. “Okay, well . . . I guess I still see you and Cody together. Crazy as that might feel.”

  Andi was quiet.

  Bailey had committed herself, so she continued. “I’m just saying . . . I don’t know what’s gotten into Cody the last few years. I really don’t. But I’ll never forget sitting across from him years ago, the last time we walked around Lake Monroe.” Bailey could see him still. The depth of emotion in his eyes. “When he told me he was in love with you, I knew something immediately.”

  They’d been over this. But Andi must’ve wanted to hear it again. “What did you know?”

  Bailey smiled. At least Andi was listening. “I knew he’d never been more in love in all his life.” She hesitated. “Because never in all the years when Cody and I were friends did he ever look at me that way.”

  Andi seemed to let that sink in. “Really?”

  “Yes. With me . . . Cody was in love with an idea. An ideal. He thought I was this perfect girl and that if we dated, he could erase his past and be this perfect guy.” Bailey understood this now. The complicated history between Cody Coleman and her. “But he was wrong about all of it. I wasn’t perfect. And he couldn’t be perfect, either.” She paused. “He must’ve known that deep down. Because he never felt good about himself around me. Only God could give him the sort of fresh start he needed during those years. Not me.”

  “Wow.” Andi seemed encouraged. “I’ve never heard you say it like that before.”

  “I’ve had time to give it some thought.” Bailey stood again. With all her heart she believed Cody was still in love with Andi. Not that Bailey had talked to Cody. But because she knew him that well. “Anyway . . . maybe answer his call next time.” Her voice was kind. Not pushy. “Okay?”

  “Maybe.” Andi’s voice was soft. “Hey, I need to run. The food truck’s here with more water bottles. It’s so weird how everything everywhere is flooded, but one of the greatest needs for people is water. Water to drink, water to shower in. Water to wash their clothes.”

  Bailey hadn’t thought about that. “Where are you now?”

  “In the . . .” The connection grew fuzzy and Andi’s voice cut out. “I’m still working the flood in the Gulf States. The storms keep coming. It’s so bad here, Bailey.”

  “That’s awful.” The pictures on the news looked devastating. “Are there people living in tents?”

  “So many.” Andi hesitated. “Every shelter is full. And we’re short on funds. Praying for people to help us out. The news hasn’t shown anywhere near how bad it is.”

  Her statement wasn’t meant to be a request for money. Bailey knew Andi better than that. But it was the first time she’d considered donating to the organization. Bailey and Brandon already gave to Compassion International and several ministries in their own community and internationally.

  But what about the organization Andi worked for?

  The group was always first on the ground when disaster struck. Bailey tucked the thought away. They wrapped up the call and Bailey knew she had to talk to Brandon about helping with Andi’s relief efforts.

  Bailey couldn’t make Andi give Cody Coleman another chance. Couldn’t make her friend’s life easier or make the hurt go away. Couldn’t help her know what to do with this Caleb guy.

  But Bailey and Brandon could at least do this. And she could pray for Andi. That despite every kind of hurt she felt she would do something that might seem impossible.

  Respond the next time Cody reached out.

  10

  School would be out for the summer soon, and Cody had a decision to make. He had found a private boarding school on a ranch in Montana for teens with emotional disorders. Anxiety issues, abandonment. Struggles with anger and abuse. Maybe not PTSD exactly. But still Cody could relate.

  A few days ago, he sent an email to the school’s headmaster, explaining his credentials and asking if they had a teaching and coaching position open. This morning he heard back from the man. His words had played in Cody’s mind all day.

  Cody walked through the door of his townhome just as Riley rushed up to him, tail wagging. “Hey, boy.” He stooped down and patted the dog’s furry head. “You missed me? Is tha
t what you say?”

  Riley stayed with him as he moved into the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. Then, like he’d done a dozen times since he’d printed the email, Cody pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket and read it one more time.

  Dear Mr. Coleman,

  Yes, I’ve heard of you. I read about your story in Sports Illustrated a few years back. I was impressed, but more with your character. We do have a position open and I would love to meet with you at your soonest convenience to discuss whether this might be a fit for you.

  The man had included his personal cell phone at the bottom of the message. Cody folded up the paper again and slipped it back into his pocket. He took a chair at his kitchen table and stared at the wall, at a Bible verse that had hung there since he moved in.

  “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you.” —Jeremiah 29:11

  Cody believed God had good plans for him. The question was whether moving to Montana was part of those plans.

  “It would force me to forget about Andi.” He looked down at Riley. “Right, boy?”

  The chair was hard-backed and not very comfortable. Part of a set he’d picked up at a garage sale for twenty bucks. He leaned back and barely noticed the wooden spindles digging into his shoulders. They didn’t matter. Cody was too consumed with the decision in front of him.

  If only God would give him a sign, let him know which way to go. Stay at Oaks Christian and keep seeing Andi’s memory everywhere he looked. Or start a new life, one free of her haunting his every hour.

  God, just tell me what You want me to do. I’ll follow Your lead. The prayer came from the depths of his soul, the way it had too many times to count today. Cody waited. Just in case the Lord might have an answer this time. But there was only the sound of the coffeemaker signaling the end of its brew cycle.

  He poured himself a cup and walked to the living room, where he dropped on the sofa. Maybe a little TV would help clear his mind. Riley jumped up beside him and settled in against his leg.

  “I can count on you, Riley. Wherever we go from here, we go together.”