“This is what the Bible says in First Timothy …” She read the section of Scripture that dealt with groups of people who were considered lawbreakers and rebels … ungodly, unholy and irreligious. “People who kill their fathers or mothers, murderers, the sexually immoral, those practicing homosexuality, slave traders, liars and perjurers … and for whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine …”
The list felt exhausting, and as Bailey reached the end of the verse she caught the defeat on Gerald’s face. “So gay people are listed right there with murderers?”
“And liars.” The answer came too quickly for Bailey to take credit for it. “See, Gerald … God doesn’t have something against people who struggle with homosexuality. We all struggle with one of those sins, and no sin struggle is worse than another. All God asks is that we keep struggling — especially since Jesus died to set us free from our sin struggles. Whatever the sin.”
Anger flashed in Gerald’s eyes. “But I was born this way, Bailey … don’t tell me God would make me this way and then doom me to a life of sinning.”
Bailey didn’t blink, didn’t look away. “We’re all born with some kind of bent toward sin.” Her words were kind, her response slow and even. They were listening … when they might’ve gotten up and walked away, they were definitely listening. “I fight against pride … wanting everyone to like me and ignoring God’s voice over my own.”
She turned to another section of Scripture and read from Proverbs 8. “See, here God says He hates pride. He hates it.” She lowered the Bible to her lap. “That means I need to ask God’s help every day so I don’t let my own pride win. Every day.”
The circle was quiet, her castmates taking in this possibility. Bailey pressed on, her tone gentle and kind. “God doesn’t want me to say, ‘Oh well … I’m prideful. I was born this way, and I’m going to stay this way.’”
Gerald hugged his knees to his chest, his eyes less defensive than before. “Same with liars … or murderers?”
“Exactly.” Bailey felt like she was on a tightrope. One wrong word or tone or glance and the group would leave and never come back. But God was holding her up, and so she continued. “The person who kills isn’t supposed to say, ‘I’m a killer … God made me this way, so therefore it’s okay if I kill.’ And the liar isn’t supposed to say, ‘I struggle with lying, so I’m going to stop struggling and go ahead and lie. I’m a liar … God made me this way.’ “ She paused, and in their eyes she could see that what she was saying made sense. She pressed on. “It’s the same for people who sleep together and aren’t married. That kind of sexual sin is in the same category. We’re all going to struggle with one of these … but we’re not supposed to give up and say the fight is over. Does that make sense?” She hesitated, letting the thought sink in. “See … God loves all of us, whatever our struggles. He knows life is hard for us … so He promises to be with us, and He asks us to come together like this. To encourage each other and keep fighting against whatever sin has a hold on us.”
For a long time none of them said anything. Bailey noticed that tears had fallen from Gerald’s eyes. He used his shoulder to wipe at them and after a while he nodded. “Thanks … I guess … I never looked at it that way.”
“Christians haven’t done a great job with the topic.” Bailey understood this better now than ever before. “We’ve either been judgmental and critical, like homosexual sin is the worst sin … or we’ve been too complacent. Using the banner of love as a way to excuse sin — when God clearly has an opinion about it. We fear we’ll offend, so we veer from the truth.”
“Wow …” Gerald lowered his legs. He looked at the girls and then at Bailey. “That makes complete sense.” He looked lost in thought for a moment. “I might struggle with this all my life … but the point is I have to keep fighting. Like the liar or alcoholic or whatever.”
“Exactly.” Bailey felt her heart rate return to normal. She took a deep breath. “There’s hope for all people … whatever they battle.” Bailey knew this from personal experience. She wouldn’t be here leading a Bible study if it weren’t so. “God gives us strength beyond what we are capable of. He died on the cross to set us free from the sins that chain us. We won’t have to battle forever — because He’s already won the victory.”
There wasn’t much more to say on the topic. Bailey closed by looking at a verse from Ephesians chapter three telling the small group that they should all pray to know how wide and long and high and deep was the love of Christ. “He loves us so much … I guess that’s what I wanted to tell Chrissy.”
And as the Bible study ended, they held hands and Bailey prayed, and even as they hugged each other and set out to whatever their days held, Bailey felt keenly aware of two things. First, whatever trouble she had with the cast before would pale in comparison to the way most of them would see her now. But she had done what God asked her to do. In honor of Chrissy Stonelake, and out of love for her peers. And because of that, the second point was all that mattered.
Whatever happened from here, she had obeyed God.
Twenty
THEIR FIRST FOOTBALL GAME WAS THREE WEEKS AWAY, AND CODY could hardly wait. The team continued to come together in the weeks since they returned from camp. Sanders’ sister was getting the new treatment, and so far she was responding brilliantly. Their dad had come to practice one day, and with a barely composed voice he had personally thanked the team for raising the money.
Everyone in town talked about the difference in the football players. People even whispered about the possibilities that lay ahead. If Lyle High could do what no other group of football players had done — win every single day at the Butler camp — then maybe they might be on to something. Maybe a winning season was possible. Cody loved the support. Even Cheyenne noticed a difference in the team. She was well enough to drive now, and though at first she admitted to being nervous, she had driven out a few times in her new Honda to watch practice.
Today, though — the third Saturday in July — Cody and DeMetri and Cheyenne had all come to practice together, and now that it was over, none of them wanted their time together to end. Marcos Brown had nothing to do either. It was Chey who mentioned the zoo first. A thunderstorm had come through the night before and cooled temperatures, easing the humidity. “The animals will be moving around for the first time all month.” She smiled at the idea. “Let’s call Tara. She’d love a day at the zoo.”
DeMetri’s expression looked slightly puzzled, and he shared a glance with Marcos. “You ever been to the zoo?”
“No, man.” Marcos laughed. “Camp was the most days I’ve ever been out of Lyle.”
Cody stared at the boys, amazed. They had so much to learn, so much of life ahead. He felt honored that God would trust him with this season of the boys’ lives. Even if that meant sharing a day at the zoo.
As it turned out, Tara was available. She met them at the White River State Park in downtown Indianapolis. The zoo was located on the grounds there, and was known for its beautiful gardens. From the moment they arrived, DeMetri and Marcos looked like a couple of little boys on Christmas morning.
“Real live elephants, man.” DeMetri had to hold back from running ahead. He motioned for the group to hurry. “I mean, seriously! Real live elephants!”
Tara kept the boys company, staying with them even when they hurried ahead. That allowed Cody to stay at Cheyenne’s pace. She didn’t need the cane anymore, but she still moved slowly. Cody held out his arm, allowing her to lean on him for support whenever the trail was a little uneven.
“This was a great idea.” Cody no longer felt guilty for enjoying Cheyenne’s company. They were together nearly every day, and after going through her recovery after the accident, they were as close as most married couples. Cody understood that … and he knew one day soon he’d have to examine his feelings, figure out if he was ready to take things to the next level with her.
A few times they let Tara and the boys get far enough ahead that they fe
lt like they were alone. Once Cody stopped at a more secluded exhibit. He and Chey leaned against the railing, their arms touching, and watched what was easily the biggest hippopotamus Cody had ever seen.
“Looks relaxing, wallowing around in the mud all day,” Cheyenne laughed. “I think I’d get bored, though.”
“You would.” He turned and faced her, struck by how completely she had recovered. No one could’ve guessed the ordeal she’d been through earlier that year. His eyes held hers and like a number of times before, the rest of the world faded way, leaving just the two of them and a sense of desire that seemed to catch them both by surprise. “You look beautiful … have I told you that lately?”
“Not enough.”
For a few seconds Cody wanted to pull her close and kiss her, explore whether his feelings were real. But that wasn’t his style, not since his rebellious high school days. If he cared enough about Chey to kiss her, then he cared enough to wait until she was officially his girlfriend.
“You’re thinking something …” She squinted, her eyes soft and vulnerable. “Tell me.”
“Hmmm.” He put his hand alongside her face and looked deeper, to the beautiful soul within her. “About us, I guess … where this is going.”
She didn’t say anything, but her eyes told him she felt the same way. Had they found forever … or something that was only just for now? “I don’t have any answers.” Her words were simple and profound, and they took him by surprise. He had thought she was looking for a relationship with him. But she didn’t know whether she wanted that any more than he did.
“I can say this … I care for you very much, Chey. I think about you every day.”
Her smile lightened the moment. “I’m glad.” She stepped away from him and took his hand. “Come on … they’ll be looking for us.”
They met up with the others, and the day turned into one of their favorites of the summer. The subject of the two of them as a couple didn’t come up again until they were seated around Tara’s dinner table. She had made sloppy joes the night before, and had plenty of leftovers. Marcos and DeMetri couldn’t have been happier. “No one’s ever cooked like this for me.” DeMetri was downing his second sloppy joe. He stopped mid-bite and shot a quick look at Cody. “I mean, you try and all, Coach. But this is something else!”
Tara glowed under their compliments, and Cody imagined how she must feel. Art had been her only child, and after he was killed at war she loved opening her house to his buddies. But this would’ve been the first time she’d had teenagers in her home — the first time since Art was this age.
At one point Tara cleared a few dishes and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the boys and Cody and Cheyenne at the table. Marcos was more outspoken than DeMetri, more of a jokester. He leaned back in his chair and sized up Cody and Cheyenne. “Okay,” he waved his finger at them. “What’s the story with you two?” He raised his brow at Cody. “I’d say it’s time to make this little love affair official.” He elbowed DeMetri. “Right, bro?”
“Right.” DeMetri gave Cody an exaggerated look of innocence, as if to say this idea hadn’t been his. But now that the matter had been broached … “You do spend a lot of time together.” He gave a happy shrug. “Just saying.”
Cheyenne giggled and hung her head for a minute, obviously embarrassed. Cody cleared his throat and gave the boys a look that was half teasing. “You’ll be the first to know, boys … whenever we have anything official to announce.”
“Which better be soon, Coach.” Marcos raised his hands and let them fall back to the table. “I mean, come on. A girl can only hang around waiting for so long. That’s what my aunt says about my older cousin. He’s been dating the same girl forever.”
The conversation was probably about as much as Cheyenne could take — even though she was still laughing. She stood and looked straight at Marcos. “You boys can carry on without me.” She grinned at Cody. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
As she left, both boys gave him a pointed look, and then burst into laughter. “Sorry, Coach … that was awkward.” They laughed so hard they could barely talk.
“I couldn’t wait another minute. I mean, Coach, I had to say something.” Marcos was all brash and happy confidence. “Come on, I mean, she’ll say yes. You don’t have to worry.”
Cody chuckled, playing along. But the comments from the boys only underlined the fact that he needed to deal with the situation. If Cheyenne would indeed say yes, then he needed to ask her, right? She needed him, after all. He twisted the ring around his right hand, the one on his pointer finger.
The friendship ring from Bailey Flanigan. He could do all things through Christ who gave him strength. That was the message on the ring, but what about this? Asking Chey to be his girlfriend would mean taking one more step away from Bailey. The idea rattled around in his heart. What would one more step matter? Bailey had already taken that move, already gone on without him. So maybe Marcos and DeMetri were right.
Maybe it was time for him to do the same.
CHEYENNE COULD HEAR THE QUIET SOBS from Tara even before she stepped into the kitchen. Her heart sank as she rounded the corner. Tara, usually so strong and happy, so sure that God worked out all things, clutched the kitchen sink, her head hung, crying as if her heart had just been broken in half.
“Tara …” she kept her voice low. The kitchen was far enough away that the guys couldn’t hear Tara crying. But she wanted this moment to be private, between just the two of them. She came to her, and put her hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, unable to talk. Then she turned and for a few long seconds she pulled Cheyenne into an embrace, one filled with the desperation that could only come from very great loss. “I thought … I thought I could handle it.”
Cheyenne understood. She had wondered how Tara would get through the day and the dinner, especially when the banter had to remind her so much of Art. “I know, Mama, I know.” Cheyenne whispered to her, still in her arms. She stepped back and framed the older woman’s face with her hand. “I miss him too. So much.”
“It’s supposed to get easier.” She sniffed and turned, reaching for a tissue. “But those boys.” A sound more laugh than sob came from her. “Those wonderful boys took me back to how it used to be, and … for just a few minutes it was like I was looking right at my Art. Like he was here again and I could hear his laugh, and smell that teenage mix of cologne and sweaty armpits.” She released a sob and covered her face with her hands. “Dear God, I miss him.”
If Cheyenne was honest with herself, this was why she had left the dinner table. The guys didn’t mean anything by their teasing, but the idea of she and Cody being a couple … it made her feel the same way Tara felt. Like all she wanted was to have Art back here. Where he belonged.
“Ugggh.” Tara blew her nose and shook her head. “I’m sorry, baby.” She brushed her fingers against Cheyenne’s forearm. “I didn’t mean this to happen. I’m happy for you and Cody … and I’m glad the boys are here. All of it … I’m so happy.” She blinked back another wave of tears. “I just want to hug him one more time.”
Chey’s own eyes were blurred with sadness. “Me too.” She looked deep into Tara’s face, because if one person in the world could understand how she felt it was Art’s mother. “I think … I think I’m falling in love with Cody.”
“I know, baby.” There was no denying the joy in Tara’s eyes. “That’s what I wanted. It’s why I introduced you two. Because God saved that young man for you.” She looked almost stern … her adamant belief that strong. “It’s the right thing.”
“But, Mama … I’m not sure I can ever love the way I loved Art.” She kept her voice low. She would’ve been horrified if Cody heard her, but she had to be honest. “Not even Cody.”
Tara nodded, the tears having their way with her again. She could barely speak, but she managed to eek out the words. “I understand, baby … everything takes time.” They hugged again. “I understand.”
/>
Something about their moment in the kitchen relieved a tension of sorts in Cheyenne, like she no longer had to doubt herself for the ambivalent feelings she had for Cody. She missed Art, and so did Tara. They always would. But he was gone, and Cody was here. Cody who cared for her and made her laugh and who looked at her in a way that melted her heart. Cheyenne had a feeling tonight was a turning point. Because after that evening and her talk with Tara in the kitchen, she could freely admit the truth to herself. She would miss Art Collins for the rest of her life, but something had happened over the last few months.
She had fallen in love with Cody Coleman.
Twenty-One
THE WEEKS OF SUMMER TRAINING PASSED QUICKLY, ONE BLAZING hot humid day blending into another until the first part of August when two-a-days began. This was the most intense part of practice for most football teams, but Cody’s Lyle players seemed to take it in stride. After the breakthrough they’d made in camp, Cody could’ve asked them to walk across fire for each other and they would’ve done it.
Two practices a day was a walk in the park.
Not only did they embrace the challenge, but they were committed to getting better. By the time their season opener rolled around on the third Friday night in August, Cody’s excitement about his team was at a fever pitch.
Cody brought DeMetri a few hours early, and well before game time Tara and Cheyenne arrived. Cody had taught Chey how to take stats, so she and Tara found a comfortable spot at the top of the bleachers, and he watched her hover over the clipboard — no doubt filling in the stat sheets with the player names and numbers.
All around Lyle, excitement filled the air like electricity. An hour before game time the stands filled and people lined up along the sidelines with lawn chairs. Even the visitor stands were full of Lyle fans. Cody tried not to think about the people and their expectations. This is for You, God … whatever happens tonight. You brought us together as a team. Now let us play for You. For Your glory.