Loving

  But the kids would hear nothing of it.

  “She was already in love with Peter!” It was the Lost Boy again. “I think when you love someone you should never, ever leave. Even if it means not growing up.”

  Brandon’s face filled Bailey’s mind, her heart. When you love someone, you should never, ever leave. His words spurred a debate between the kids, and after a few minutes Bailey stood and gave the classic CKT whistle, the sound they automatically knew to repeat and then quiet themselves down. “I think we would all spend a little more time in Neverland if we had the chance.” She held up her clipboard and smiled at them. “Okay, let’s have everyone take their places.”

  Throughout the rest of rehearsal, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rein her thoughts back in. The Lost Boy had a point, right? Wendy took the safe route by returning to the nursery, but she missed out on Peter Pan and a lifetime of adventures.

  As she drove home that night, Bailey thought about Brandon, and their adventures in a different sort of Neverland — places like New York and Los Angeles. She could see again his face on the computer screen as they skyped when she was at the Kellers, and how one night, just like that, Brandon had walked into her room— surprising her with the fact that he wasn’t really across the country but right there in the Kellers’ apartment. Or the times when he’d taken her to the top of the Empire State Building or through Central Park. Together they’d gone on carriage rides and private jet excursions and even the more recent trip on his yacht. They’d played in the surf at Malibu and walked the streets of Manhattan.

  The whole crazy ride felt like a trip through Neverland.

  Bailey thought about that, and how in some ways coming home to Bloomington was like returning to the nursery. Safe and predictable. A way to find a career and maybe someday fall in love with someone ordinary, and raise a family in a place where she was comfortable. Which was the only option that made sense. The little Lost Boy was wrong about Wendy. She needed to leave Neverland to find her life and her career and to fall in love and raise a family. If she hadn’t returned to the nursery, Wendy never would’ve known any sense of normal.

  The kind of normal Bailey craved — especially after dating Brandon.

  Suddenly and certainly — like never before until this moment — Bailey knew without a doubt that she needed to let Brandon go. She loved him, she always would. But as she pulled into her family’s driveway tears filled her eyes and she found a fresh sort of resolve. Found the determination to do the one thing she hadn’t ever wanted to do. The time had come, no matter how great the hurt. She would call Brandon early next week, when he’d be back in Los Angeles. And she would tell him it was over, time for both of them to move on. Tears ran down her cheeks and her heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Breaking up with Brandon would be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she loved him too much to keep him guessing. Too much to give him a sense of hope when there was none. She had no choice. Brandon’s world was too crazy for her. It always would be. He lived in a sort of make-believe Neverland, and so she was right to move back to Bloomington. Because people didn’t stay in Neverland with Peter Pan.

  Not even in make-believe.

  Ten

  SINCE CHEYENNE’S DEATH, CODY HAD SPENT EVERY SUNDAY evening with Tara Collins. The woman was getting on, surviving this latest great loss the way they both were surviving: with God’s help alone. Tonight the meal was chili, and Cody stood at the stove stirring the cooked ground beef and kidney beans while Tara mixed up a batch of homemade corn bread.

  Music played in the background — the Anthem Lights album Cody couldn’t get enough of. He’d made a fan of Tara too. She loved the same songs he loved: “Where the Light Is” and “Can’t Get Over You,” which was playing through the house now. Cody smiled as Tara crooned along with the chorus. Her voice grew louder and a little more off-key with every line she sang. She raised one hand to heaven and stirred the batter with the other as she belted out the words.

  Suddenly Tara seemed to notice Cody grinning at her. She waved her spoon at him. “Now, there … don’t go giving me that look. The Good Lord says to make a joyful noise and ain’t nothin’ more joyful than me singing in my very own kitchen.”

  “No argument here.” Cody chuckled and held up one hand in mock surrender. “The Anthem Lights guys should take you on the road. Then everyone could be joyful.”

  “Cody Coleman!” She waved the spoon again, her eyes dancing. “Don’t you make fun of me.”

  The song continued to play and Tara glanced at the kitchen speakers. “Then again … that’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll sing this song for the Ladies Tea next month.”

  “Only if I can watch.”

  They both laughed and the sound felt like life coursing through the old house. This was something new between them — the feeling that they had permission to laugh, that they’d mourned in quiet long enough. At first they’d met for Sunday dinner and talked in quiet tones, comfortable in the sad silence, each of them glad to have someone else who understood their pain. But now, so many months later, Cody enjoyed the change happening between them.

  Like they were ready to live again.

  The song faded and before the next one could start, Tara’s smile dropped off a little. “I like to think Art and Cheyenne can see us, how we’ve figured out a way to laugh.”

  “Yes.” Cody let the thought settle. “I like to think that too.”

  Tara breathed in sharp through her nose, clearly doing her best to keep the moment from becoming sad. “I miss them.” Her smile filled her face again, even as her eyes glistened. “How good is God, letting them be in heaven together. Right?”

  “Definitely.” Cody pictured Cheyenne, the beautiful girl he had come to love, the way she spoke truth into his life. She had handled the wartime loss of her fiancé Art in a way that was nothing short of miraculous. Art was Tara’s only son, Cody’s best friend in Iraq. Cheyenne alone had been a light for Tara and Cody as they all lived with Art’s death. And when the battle had become her own, Cheyenne again was the brave one, the voice of reason reminding them that heaven was the goal, the prize. And that death was not to be feared.

  Now she and Art were together in heaven, and Cody was keeping his promise: making sure he looked after Tara in their absence.

  A rush of nervousness shot through Cody’s veins at the thought. What if he didn’t always live in Indiana? Who would have Sunday dinner with Tara? For that matter, who would visit his own mother in prison? Cody had no answers yet.

  He stirred the chili slowly and then set the spoon beside the pan. “Hey … I have to tell you something.”

  Tara was humming again, trying to find the words and the pitch of the next song. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Sounds serious.”

  “It could be.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “I have an interview tomorrow afternoon in Southern California.”

  Surprise flashed in Tara’s eyes, but she recovered quickly. “Well, good for you.” Whatever she might be feeling, her voice remained positive, encouraging. “What sort of interview?”

  “For head football coach. A school called Oaks Christian — one of the biggest Christian schools in the country. They want to talk to me about running their program.” He almost winced, the sick feeling inside him spreading to his heart. After all, he had promised Cheyenne he would take care of Tara. How could he do that thousands of miles from Indiana?

  Tara stared him down and once more she pointed the corn bread spoon at him. “Hold on there, Cody Coleman. I see that look in your eyes.” She shook her head, as serious as she’d ever been. “Don’t you go thinking you have to stay here for me. I have my ladies’ Bible study and my friends from the library program and —” She waved the spoon in circles. “Heavens, I can’t think right now, but I could have Sunday dinner every week with someone new.” Her brow lifted halfway up her forehead. “If God’s calling you to California, then go. Go fast.”

  “Tara ?
??” Cody loved the woman like she was his own family. He uttered a sad laugh. “I’m not leaving yet.”

  “I know.” An intensity marked her tone. “But when you do get the call, you go. And don’t give it another thought.” She pierced the air with her spoon, as if adding an exclamation mark. Her posture relaxed. “Okay. Since we’ve got that out of the way, tell me about this school.”

  Another laugh made its way up from Cody’s soul. “It’s very wealthy.” He picked up his own spoon and stirred the chili again. As the music played in the background, he told Tara about the challenges he might face at Oaks Christian. “It’ll be work for sure. I’m excited to learn more about it.”

  Tara nodded, quiet for a moment. Then she cast Cody a wary look. “Southern California, you said?”

  “Yes. Thousand Oaks, actually.”

  “How close is that to your Bailey Flanigan?”

  Cody couldn’t keep his heart from reacting to the sound of her name. The mix of missing her and regret that might always come over him when someone brought her up. He exhaled and then turned to Tara again. “When I first started talking to Oaks Christian, she was close by in LA. Dating Brandon Paul. Remember him? The actor from that movie, Unlocked?”

  “Yes. Beautiful boy.” Tara was merely making an observation. “I remember him.”

  The truth was undeniable. “Okay.” Cody shrugged. “Yes. The beautiful boy. Him.” He laughed softly. “Anyway, he and Bailey were very serious. Brandon lives in LA, of course.” The next part was something Cody had only learned a few weeks ago when he called Jim Flanigan — the way he still sometimes did. “But she’s back in Indiana now. Directing a kids theater program in Bloomington.”

  “Hmmm.” Tara studied him. “You still have feelings for her. I can see it in your eyes.” She angled her head, trying to read his expression no doubt. “If she’s here, then maybe you should go to California.”

  “Wow.” Cody laughed out loud this time. “You never liked Bailey.”

  “I liked her.” Tara made a knowing face. “I just liked Cheyenne better.” Genuine concern filled Tara’s eyes. “Besides … I guess I feel like Cheyenne felt. Remember what she said?” Tara poured the batter into a greased glass pan and looked over her shoulder at him. “You need a girl who makes you feel ten feet tall.” She set the batter bowl down and pointed at him. “Don’t settle, Cody. We can never settle.”

  “I know.” He didn’t want to talk about Bailey. If there was a chance he might move to Los Angeles, he wanted this night to be about his great concern for the older woman.

  As the hours passed and they finished dinner, Cody and Tara found a way to talk about nearly every memory they had of Art and Cheyenne.

  “You know what I love about being with you, Cody?” They were doing dishes, and Tara was at the sink. She smiled at him, and this time her expression was utterly serious. “When I’m with you it’s like Art and Cheyenne are still here. Together we have their memories.”

  “We do.” Cody dried his hands on his jeans and grabbed a towel from the closest drawer. “That’s what I love about being with you too.”

  Cody hugged the woman and took hold of her shoulders. “No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ll always be family to me, Tara. If I can’t be here for Sunday dinners, we’ll talk on Skype. Every Sunday night.”

  She put her warm hand against his cheek. “Don’t you worry about me.” She kissed his forehead the way she often did these days. “Go shine for Jesus, Cody. This is your time. I’ll pray God makes the answers clear.”

  SLEEP CAME IN FITS, and Cody barely had time to pack in the morning before setting out to the airport. Security lines were longer than usual, and Cody felt rushed until the moment he was buckled into his aisle seat. Only then did it hit him what he was doing. After a lifetime in Indiana, he was actually flying to Los Angeles International and interviewing for a coaching position in Southern California.

  God … I know you have plans for me. But sometimes my life feels like a series of meaningless and costly moments. Like the real plans haven’t even begun …

  The response came from a poster that had hung in Cody’s room when he lived with the Flanigans:

  Be still, my son. Be still and wait on me.

  Only God could’ve given him the reminder now. He thought about the seasons he’d been through. Living with the Flanigans. Loving Bailey. The hopes he’d had for his mother to stay clean and free of prison. His time in Iraq. And then his relationship with Cheyenne. All of it painful. None of it lasting.

  He breathed in and let his lungs fill with the air of uncertainty. Was this step the one that would really count? The one where God would finally give him a glimpse of his longterm future plans? Cody felt unsure, but even as the doubts came at him, a peace began at the center of his soul. Whatever this step meant, and however God would use it in his life, this much was certain: God would be with him.

  He remembered something then. He had connected with Andi Ellison last night on Facebook. Usually the two of them weren’t online at the same time, but late yesterday they were. He had told her he was coming into town for an interview and they’d agreed to meet for coffee before his appointment at Oaks Christian. It would be good to see her, good to catch up. Years had gone by since their time at Indiana University.

  Cody closed his eyes and fell asleep before the plane left the gate. When he woke up, they were coming in for a landing and Cody checked his itinerary. He had been meticulous with the details and they played out just as he planned.

  The shuttle van ride he’d arranged was at the curb waiting for him when he came out with his bag. An hour-long drive to Oaks Christian put him in Thousand Oaks two hours early for his three o’clock interview. Cody had the driver drop him at a Starbucks in Thousand Oaks. Sunshine beat on his shoulders and warmed his body as he walked up to the coffee shop’s front entrance. Living in Southern California wasn’t something he’d ever imagined, but this much was for sure: He could get used to the weather. He could hardly believe temperatures this warm when it wasn’t quite May.

  He looked around the busy shop and spotted Andi at one of the corner tables. She stood and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was beautiful, more so than before. Only now there was something in her eyes that hadn’t been there back at IU. It was peace, a peace that proved she had come a long way in healing from the pain of her past. “Andi!” He made his way to her and they shared a long hug. Then he finally drew back and searched her eyes, her face. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I know.” She laughed. “It’s been forever.” She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly red. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. How did you hear about a job in Thousand Oaks?”

  “It’s a long story.” He laughed, his hand still on her shoulder. Without meaning to, Cody felt himself drawn to her. She had grown up, and something about her turned heads of the people around them. Not only her long blonde hair or her pale blue eyes, but something else. A maturity and faith emanated from her, and assured him again that she had grown much since college. “So you live around here?”

  “Not far. I’m in one of my dad’s movies. We’re on location down the street from Oaks Christian.” Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re serious? You’re looking at taking a job here?”

  “They haven’t offered it yet.” Cody hadn’t expected this, how happy he felt connecting with her again. “The interview’s at three.”

  They ordered coffee and returned to the corner table. “Listen … we both know they’ll offer you the job. You’re the best high school coach in America. My dad has the copy of Sports Illustrated with your picture on the cover framed on his office desk — where everyone can see it.” Her voice became softer, and a new depth filled her tone. “We’re all so proud of you, Cody.”

  He straightened and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “The hype’s a little exaggerated.” He shrugged. “God gets the glory. That, and I had a great team. No doubt.”

  “True.” Andi didn’t waver. ?
??But you’re gifted, Cody. Same as you always were, in so many areas.”

  Cody let her words wash over him, let them fill him with hope and encouragement. He searched her eyes, intrigued. “Hey, how long’s your break?”

  “An hour.” Her eyes danced, but she held his gaze.

  “Good. Then we have time to talk.” He hadn’t felt this lighthearted in forever.

  “I’d like that.” Her smile seemed to come from the depths of her heart. “I’ll take you to the interview before I have to get back.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

  She laughed, and again there was no question the years had brought her back, closer to God and to the girl she was supposed to be. “Sounds like a deal.”

  They ordered sandwiches and the hour slipped away. They talked about times gone by and how crazy she’d been back at Indiana University. “God taught me so much.” Andi’s eyes held a renewed innocence. “I had a baby. You know that, right?”

  Cody knew about her pregnancy, but not many of the details surrounding the situation. He hurt for her, for the cost of her rebellion. “You gave it up, right?”

  “Him.” Andi leaned her forearms on the table and gazed out the window for a long moment. When she looked at him again, he could see that even in this she’d found healing. “I gave him up. He’s living with the Baxters now. He belongs to Luke and Reagan.”

  “I think I might’ve heard that.” Cody waited, letting her talk.

  “Another long story.” She smiled, tilting her head, studying him. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Andi told him how she’d moved with her family to LA, and how her father’s movie business was thriving. “I don’t know why I ever walked away. But I wouldn’t be the person I am today if God hadn’t rescued me off that broken road.”