“I was the first female editor of my university’s school paper.” She paused. “Believers need to be visible,” she nodded, her eyes sparkling despite the wrinkles around them. “That’s why I love that you’re performing on Broadway, Bailey. We’re no light at all if we’re not a light in a visible place.”
Bailey nodded, as Sara’s wisdom sank in. “My parents say that.”
“Your parents are right.” Sara eased her feet in front of her, and for a few seconds she gazed at her shoes. “I love a pair of new red shoes … have I mentioned that?”
“Not in the past hour.” The fourth woman was more petite and quieter than the others. She had a pretty face and a sparkly smile. It was easy to see how stunning the woman must’ve been when she was younger. She grinned at Bailey. “I’m Irma … It’s not my turn yet, but I had to say that.”
Again they all laughed, and Bailey was struck by the closeness among them. These friends had learned the secret of accepting one another exactly as they were. The thought reminded Bailey that she should call Andi Ellison soon. Her friend from Indiana University was living in Los Angeles now, but with a little effort they could still stay in touch.
Betty looked at Bailey. “Sara’s full of godly wisdom. Something she won’t tell you.” She glanced back at her friend. “Her home is the regular stop for several local pastors and Campus Crusade workers. She loves her family and she thinks it’s important for women to be strong in our society.”
Bailey listened, curious. Strength wasn’t usually something she aspired to. “How do you mean … we should be strong?” She turned to Sara.
“Strong in society, vocal about our beliefs.” Her eyes were kind, but they held a no-nonsense look. “For you, that might mean speaking up for your faith, being the voice of truth for your cast.”
“She’s right.” Irma was the silliest in the group, Bailey could tell. But in this moment she was very serious. “It might not be enough to shine on stage. God might be asking more of you.”
Bailey thought about Chrissy and her obvious anorexia … and the members of the cast who seemed to sneer at her faith or her connection with Brandon. Bailey had no idea how she might be more vocal with them, but she believed this: If she asked God for help … He would show her. “Thanks … I’ll think about that.”
It was Irma’s turn. She rustled herself as tall as she could. “I’m Irma, and I’m vertically challenged, but like I always tell my kids — I’m more fun per inch than anyone I know.”
Again the ladies raised their coffee drinks and a couple of them clapped in agreement. “No argument here.” Betty tilted her head, her eyes on Irma. “Why don’t you start with your name and save the jokes for later, honey.”
“Right.” Irma pointed at Betty. “You did say that.” She turned to Bailey. “I’m Maria Rangel, but most people call me Irma.”
“All people,” Betty pointed out.
“Okay,” Irma shrugged. “All people. Anyway, let’s see. I began this Bible study when I met Betty at church twenty-two years ago. My family and my faith are everything to me. Oh …” she pointed her finger in the air as if she wasn’t quite finished, “and I’ve been married fifty years to the man of my dreams — Al Rangel.” She stopped long enough to gaze upward, as if she were lost in romantic thoughts about Al.
Bailey giggled. She enjoyed these women, their wisdom and faith, their combined years of happy, successful marriages. She had much to learn from them — and already she looked forward to the summer Monday mornings they would share. Irma explained that she liked to travel and how she’d been to the Holy Land and to Greece and several times back to her hometown in Mexico.
“But you should know this,” she leaned over her legs and brought her voice to a whisper. “I had heart surgery in 2009.” She shook her head and waved her hand, like she was dismissing an irritating fly at a summer picnic. “We don’t talk about that much … except to let it serve as a reminder.” She sat up again and looked around the room. “What’s the reminder, girls?”
A chorus of their voices responded almost in unison. “Love well … laugh often … and live for Christ.”
“Exactly.” She laughed at her own story. “You have one chance to get it right, Bailey. When it comes to your God … your family … your time on Broadway.” She allowed the dreamy look to return to her eyes. “And the man you fall in love with.”
“Good point.” Barbara looked thoughtfully at Bailey. “Are you in love yet, Miss Bailey?”
“Ummm …” She laughed, not ready for the question.
“Take your time, dear; it’s your turn.” Betty clearly didn’t want Bailey to feel flustered by the straightforward question.
Betty didn’t need to worry. Bailey liked this, being forced to think about her life … why she was here … and whether she was in love or not. This was a safe setting, a place where she could be honest and learn something along the way. “I’m Bailey, obviously.” She smiled so they could see she was relaxed. “I moved here a little more than a month ago — around the first of May. I’m the oldest of six kids, and the rest are all boys.”
Irma gasped. “Your poor mother … she must be a saint.” She smoothed the wrinkles in her wool skirt. “I had all girls. Four of them.”
“Sisters would’ve been great.” Bailey laughed. “But boys are a lot of fun, actually. I love having brothers.” The group weighed in on how much food boys ate and the blessing of having sons.
Irma raised her eyebrows as if she were offended. “Okay … so I missed that blessing.” She burst into a series of giggles. “Let’s just say I was blessed by missing the blessing of boys. Raising girls was heaven on earth.”
Bailey loved Irma’s spunk. But gradually the room turned its attention to her again and Bailey picked up where she left off. “My dad’s one of the football coaches for the Indianapolis Colts, and my brothers all play football.” She told them a little about each of the boys, including the fact that three of her brothers were adopted from Haiti.
“Well, I’ll be …” Irma sat back in her chair, not teasing for once. “Your mother really is a saint.”
Like she’d done before, Bailey explained that adopting the boys ten years earlier had been good for all of them. “It was crazy at first, but it was a family decision … and God has blessed us all through it.” She told them about her part in Hairspray, and the role she’d played opposite Brandon Paul in Unlocked.
“Brandon Paul!” Barbara slid to the edge of her seat, her eyes wide. “The Brandon Paul?”
“Yes.” Bailey giggled again. “I guess I was pretty vocal about my faith when we filmed the movie.” She paused, glad for the chance to remind herself. “Brandon became a Christian the last week on the set. My dad even baptized him.”
Another gasp from Irma. “I read about that! So that’s what happened!”
“See …” Sara nodded, her approving smile aimed at Bailey. “That’s what it means to be strong. Good girl, Bailey.”
She smiled and felt the heat in her cheeks. “It wasn’t me.”
“It never is.” Betty turned a kind look her way. “It’s always God in us, anytime we do any good at all.”
“So … that takes us back to the original question?” Barbara must’ve made a very good CEO. She had no trouble directing the conversation, and she did so with a clarity and gentleness that would’ve made her an easy leader to follow.
Bailey stifled another laugh and looked at her lap for a long moment. She wasn’t sure how much to say, but she could be honest with these women. Nothing she might say would ever make it beyond the four walls of the Kellers’ apartment. Bailey took a quick breath. “Well … Brandon and I talk a lot.”
“Brandon Paul?” Irma’s eyes were wide again. “So then … is he your Al?”
Bailey pictured Brandon, the way he’d looked holding her in his arms on the 103rd floor of the Empire State Building … or how it had felt riding in the carriage beside him through the streets of New York City. She smiled at the mem
ory, but even as she did she felt herself shrug. “I’m not sure … I’m really not sure.” She looked at the faces around her, all of them so grounded in their faith, so solid in their love for the men they’d married.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you, Bailey …” Betty’s voice was quieter than before, her question pointed and careful. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but what about the photograph that used to sit on your desk? The one of you and that handsome young man.”
Bailey felt her heart sink. “That’s Cody. I loved him for a very long time, but … he’s out of my life now. Someone from my past.” She smiled, more to convince herself than any of the ladies in the room. “I’m over him.”
“Is that why you took the picture down?” Again Betty’s question held a knowing, but it wasn’t forceful. Just her way of trying to know Bailey better.
A long sigh came from Bailey and she bit her lower lip. “I just … I didn’t want to look at him anymore.”
“Does Brandon know about Cody?” Sara uncrossed her ankles, but kept her pretty red shoes neatly together.
“He does … they know about each other.” She felt a well of sadness rise within her. “Cody has someone else now … he doesn’t think about me anymore.”
“Hmmm.” Barbara didn’t look sure. “How long did the two of you date?”
A sad laugh came from her. “Not long, really. A few months.” There was too much to the story to tell it all now. “We grew up together. We had feelings for each other long before we started dating.”
“I doubt he’s moved on. Not entirely.” Barbara sat back, unconvinced. “Look at you, Bailey. You’re beautiful from the inside out. A guy would be crazy to miss that.”
Bailey wanted to think so, but lately she doubted everything about herself. She wasn’t Cheyenne — it was that simple. And she wasn’t one of the Hollywood starlets who vied for Brandon’s attention. She believed him that he wasn’t interested in anyone else, but still … “I guess … if I had to answer the question, I’d say Brandon Paul is the one in my heart now. He wants to have a relationship, but I don’t know.” She looked intently at each of them. “How do you know? I mean … how were you sure about the men you married?”
Betty was the first to answer. “The picture of you and Cody?”
“Yes …” Bailey wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
“When it’s the right man … you’ll have the look in your eyes that you have in that picture.” She angled her head, sympathetic to all Bailey was feeling. “I’ve heard you talk about Brandon … but I haven’t seen that look in your eyes. Only in the picture.”
The conversation shifted to the Bible, and 1 Corinthians 13. The women planned to spend all summer looking at the chapter most famous for its teaching about love. Today they talked only about the first verse: “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”
“That’s why we must not only be vocal and visible,” Barbara pointed out. “We must love most of all.”
“Amen to that.” Betty shared a quick smile with her friend.
When the study was done, Bailey thanked the women and hugged Betty. Then she returned to her room and found her journal, the new one her mom had given her for the move to New York. She wrote about the women — Betty and Barbara, Sara and Irma, of their love for their God and their families, and their nearly two hundred years of combined marriage.
I want that kind of love one day, she wrote … Is Brandon the guy who I can love like that … the one who will love me fifty years from now? She hesitated, reading over what she’d written. Please God … lead me to that kind of love. Until then, help me to know that You are enough.
She also wrote down Sara’s admonition to be strong, and she jotted a few sentences that had come up that day — how the idea of being strong and vocal was only possible or effective when it was set against the backdrop of love. “Soaked in love,” Sara had said.
Bailey liked that. It reminded her of her place with the cast of Hairspray. Everything about her job was still new, the people still a little intimidating. But they needed God’s love as much as anyone. Maybe more. If she were going to truly shine on Broadway, she would need to find a way to be strong and vocal. But absolutely soaked in love.
And finally she wrote the thing that stayed with her most, the part Betty brought up. She remembered her night on the Empire State Building, and the quote Brandon had brought up. How the eyes were the window to the soul.
Take more pictures with Brandon, she scribbled on the next line of her journal. See if my eyes have that look. Yes, that’s what she needed. More pictures of Brandon and her — so she could analyze her eyes.
Maybe that was the real reason Bailey had moved the photo of her and Cody from her desk. Because deep down she knew that what Betty had said was true. Real love … true love … the kind that could last a lifetime would require a guy who loved God more than life, a guy who could lead her and laugh with her and listen to her. And with all that, Bailey would know he was the right guy for one very simple reason.
Her eyes would look like they did in the picture of her and Cody.
Ten
ASHLEY’S PHONE CALL WITH JENNY FLANIGAN WAS EXACTLY what she needed that Wednesday morning. Jenny had a way about her that reminded Ashley of the truth — no trial was beyond the reach of God.
For nearly half an hour Jenny let Ashley talk about Landon’s health, his lung trouble, and the looming possibility of a disease too terrible to imagine. Jenny had to have been busy. Midway through June her boys would be clamoring for her attention for sure. Yet she had taken this time … something that touched Ashley deeply.
“Your family’s been through this before.” Jenny’s voice emanated calm. “You’ve always relied on each other, reminded each other that you could do anything with God’s strength.” Jenny hesitated. “Remember … when you can’t take another step, God will carry you.”
The thought filled in the gaping holes in Ashley’s confidence. When she couldn’t take another step … God would carry her.
The phone call ended, and even as Ashley rounded up the kids and called for Landon, she remembered to pray. Because today might just be one of those days when she wasn’t sure she could walk.
“Landon!” She had Janessa in her arms. Cole and Devin were already out in the car. “We’re going to be late.”
“Coming.” He didn’t sound enthusiastic, not that she could blame him. All of their testing, every cough and asthma attack, all the concern from Landon’s doctors would culminate in a single test in an Indianapolis clinic two hours from now. After that they would have their answer — one way or another.
She headed for the garage, buckled Janessa into her car seat, and was fastening her own belt when Landon finally joined them. She watched him, studying him. What was the look on his face? It wasn’t fear … not quite. But it wasn’t the joy and peace she’d always known from him, either. He’d been off work nearly six weeks now, and in some ways he’d been busier than ever. He had trimmed every shrub and bush in what used to be her mother’s garden, and he’d planted a plot of vegetables. Turning over the dirt, cultivating it, mixing in mulch … planting seedlings. The boys had helped some, but he’d done most of it.
“Sorry. I was looking at something.” He didn’t turn to her, didn’t make eye contact.
Ashley watched him, not sure whether she should feel frightened by this new Landon, or sorry for him. Months ago when Devin had assigned everyone roles in his pretend circus, Landon had told her to lighten up. She couldn’t stop living just because he was sick. And she agreed. But now what was he thinking? Did she need to remind him of his own advice, or was it better to wait?
She sat back and stared out the window. From behind her, Devin kept up a stream of chatter about his future circus. Ashley had to admire his tenacity. He hadn’t once veered from the idea of running a circus — not since the notion first hit him back in
January.
“I have a plan, ‘kay, Cole?”
Cole had a handful of baseball cards and he sorted through them without looking up. “What’s your plan, Dev?” The kids were staying at her sister and brother-in-law’s house — Kari and Ryan’s place — and Brooke was bringing her two girls over also. Which meant Cole would hang out with his favorite cousin, Maddie. The two had always been fiercely competitive, but lately they shared a love of baseball cards. Not a surprise since Maddie’s tomboy stage still persisted.
“Here’s the plan.” Devin talked fast when he had an idea, and his words ran into each other as he tried to get his thoughts out. “I think asides my ‘magination machine, my circus might need a time machine too, and if it does then I think you should run it, Cole.” He paused only long enough to refuel. “Can you live with that?”
Despite her nerves about the day’s possible outcome, and her concerns over Landon’s attitude, Ashley laughed quietly in the front seat. This was Devin’s newest thing … asking people if they could live with something. She had no idea where he’d gotten the phrase but it made her laugh every time he used it.
“I can live with it. Sure …” Cole didn’t sound even a little bit interested, but at least he responded. “I’ll run the time machine.”
Ashley turned in her seat so she could see her kids — all three of them in the row behind her. Janessa sucked her thumb — a habit they were trying to break. But she was perceptive — and if she needed a little extra comfort today, Ashley could forgive her. She turned to Devin. “Why a time machine, buddy?”
“Oh, Mommy, a time machine’s the best machine of all.” His eyes grew so wide she could practically see the whites around them. “A time machine means people can climb inside and then whirrrr!” He made one of his crazy noises, signifying some push of the button or flip of the switch. He tried to snap his fingers, but the movement fell short. “Just like that, Mommy. You get transpo’ted to the bestest moment in your whole livelong life.” He glanced at Cole and then back at her. “Cole’s gonna run it and you can … well, you can sell the tickets.”