Learning

  The thought of Cheyenne reminded him that he needed to get back. He hadn’t been the right sort of friend to Bailey, and he’d broken promises he never should’ve made. But now he’d made a promise to Cheyenne … that he wasn’t going to leave her … that she could count on him. For however long … whatever that meant.

  Cody twisted the ring, savoring the familiar way it felt against his finger. Yes, Cheyenne could count on him … as long as God provided the strength for him to be there for her. Cody had promised he’d stay.

  And this time, he wasn’t going to break his promise.

  Two

  THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK CITY GLOWED IN THE NIGHT SKY AS Bailey Flanigan and her mom arrived in busy, bustling Times Square. They shared a quick dinner at Sbarro on Broadway across from the DoubleTree, and headed to their room at the Marriott Marquis. Since her mom had slept the entire flight in, and because of the noise of the city and even the restaurant, Bailey still hadn’t found a time to tell her mom about her meeting yesterday with Cody. Finally, alone in their hotel room, Bailey sat on the edge of the bed near the pillow and tried to remember every detail.

  “I feel terrible for the girl … her name’s Cheyenne.” Bailey sat cross-legged, her long hair in a side ponytail. “But still … I had no idea he’d moved on.”

  Her mom took the chair a few feet away, and a sad, knowing sort of look filled her face. “I figured you had more in that heart of yours than the goodbyes you said to your dad and your brothers.”

  Bailey nodded. “It was a lot. Too much to talk about.” She exhaled, feeling the weariness from earlier that day. “I wasn’t sure I could take all those goodbyes.” She tilted her head, thoughtful. “Isn’t it so weird, Mom? I mean, like, I’ve said goodbye to not only my childhood, but to my family. Now …” she didn’t want to cry again, and her eyes were dry. But that didn’t make the situation easier to accept. “Now they’ll grow up without me. Like, when I see them again they’ll be taller and older looking.”

  Her mom’s eyes looked a little damp. “We’ll visit. We’re coming the first weekend after you join the show.”

  “I’m glad.” Bailey wasn’t distraught, not really. Her moving just made life so different, their family so unlike what it had ever been before. “So, yes, Cody was on my mind. We … we didn’t talk much at the hospital.”

  “Maybe he’s feeling hurt too. Have you thought about that?” Always her mom had been a great listener, even when she didn’t agree with Bailey. This was one of those times. “I mean, sweetheart, he has to know about Brandon Paul. He came to our house and saw the two of you. And then he drove away.”

  “Right, and he should’ve talked to me.” Bailey leaned against the headboard. “Cody’s always running, Mom … I’m tired of that.” She set her heart’s resolve, unwilling to spend the evening feeling sad about Cody. “Besides, he has Cheyenne. And he clearly has her. He was sitting by her side like … like they were married or something.”

  “Honey, …” again caution rang quietly in her mom’s voice. “He’s doing what anyone would do in the situation. Cheyenne is fighting for her life.” She paused, her eyes still on Bailey. “Did you see anyone else there?”

  “An older woman. But that’s all.”

  “So Cheyenne probably needs him.”

  Bailey hadn’t thought about that. Despite the girl’s injuries all Bailey had seen was Cody sitting by her bedside. As if he cared for her more than anyone in the world. Like he maybe even loved her. She felt suddenly terrible for her assumptions. “You’re right. I can’t tell anything from what I saw.” She looked out the window at the dazzling lights, and she remembered again where she was and why she was here — and that she wasn’t going back home at the end of the week. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We said our goodbyes.”

  Bailey spent the next hour talking about how Cody had begged her to stay longer, and how he’d asked her to sit by him while he went through the things in the box. But how she had hurried away, anxious to be done with the visit. “I think I learned something.” Resignation sounded in her voice. It was the saddest part of saying goodbye to Cody, this realization that had stayed with her since then. “I can’t be Cody’s friend. I care too much about him.”

  “Hmm.” Her mom’s face was open and kind … not the least bit judgmental. “I understand.” She wasn’t in a hurry, clearly wanting Bailey to feel her support. “How are things with Brandon?”

  Bailey felt a smile start in her heart and work its way to her face. “He’s great. I mean … every time we talk I feel the possibility a little more.” She explained how Brandon had plans to visit often and for whatever reasons he could think of.

  “I’m sure.” Her mom laughed. “Especially if he would fly to Indiana to help you clean your room.”

  The conversation lasted well into the night, until finally they were both too tired to keep their eyes open. As Bailey fell asleep she recounted the time with her mom, how close the two of them were. Tonight’s talk was the sort of one she couldn’t have on a regular basis once her mom returned to Bloomington on Wednesday.

  She reminded herself to appreciate this time with her mom, and she thanked God for the opportunity — both that night and the next day as they took a car into the city and saw Mary Poppins. By then, the sadness from the night before had faded, and after the play Bailey and her mom set out down Seventh Avenue toward Forty-second Street — and past the J. Markham Theater where Bailey would perform. The Hairspray marquis looked twenty feet high and the lights around it shone even now in the brightest sunlight.

  “I can’t believe it.” Her mom slid closer to Bailey in the backseat of the cab and gave her a quick side hug. “This is where you’ll be working!”

  They asked the driver to stop, and they jumped out of the car and took pictures in front of the theater. The building was locked and empty now, since it was only ten in the morning. Rehearsals took place a few blocks away. But still Bailey wanted to capture this moment, and she took a final photo using her phone. Then with a few taps of her fingers she texted it to Connor with this caption: Working on Broadway … God is great!

  They were back in the car when Bailey felt her phone vibrate and saw Connor’s response. He’s got big plans for you, Bailey … glad to see you smiling today!

  A warmth spread through her, and she felt the certainty of being exactly where God wanted her to be.

  She gave the driver directions to the rehearsal location: Big City Studios on Fifty-fourth Street. Traffic was bad — but then that was always the case. “We could’ve walked faster,” her mom whispered to her, grinning.

  “I know … I think that’s what I love about New York. You’re never alone.”

  “That’s for sure.” They both laughed, and fifteen minutes later the driver reached the studio. They asked him to be back in an hour, and they hurried inside. A guard at the front door looked over Bailey’s paperwork, checked their IDs, and let them inside. As soon as they walked into the lobby of the rehearsal space, they heard the music. On the other side of the door the cast was practicing the song “Without Love,” and suddenly Bailey’s heart soared with what lay ahead. It was really happening! She belonged here … performing on Broadway.

  Quietly they crept in the back door of the studio and looked for a seat along the rear wall. Francesca Tilly, the show’s director, had asked them to come. But that didn’t mean she would want her rehearsal interrupted. The space was large enough for the entire cast to be spread out, and from what Bailey could tell, everyone knew the dance. But this was how they stayed strong. They practiced until the movements were like breathing.

  The moment the song ended, Francesca clapped her hands and pointed toward the back of the room. “Alright, family, turn around.” Twenty-some dancers did as she asked, curious looks on their faces. “This is your newest sister. She’ll begin rehearsals Wednesday.” Francesca smiled big toward Bailey and her mom. “Welcome, Bailey Flanigan. And Bailey’s mother, I assume. We’re glad you’re here.”

/>   Bailey had the sense this was how Francesca always introduced the newest cast members, because the guys and girls smiled and waved, and there were a few who called out, “Hi, Bailey … glad you’re here.” Or some other such thing.

  She returned the waves, and so did her mom.

  As soon as the cast turned back to Francesca, the director dropped the friendly persona and scowled at each of them, her eyes moving over them the way they had over the hundred girls who had tried out with Bailey. “Now … I was at the show over the weekend … I know, I know … I didn’t tell you I’d be there. But when you sang “Welcome to the Sixties,” I felt like you wanted me to leave!” her voice boomed through the rehearsal space. “I absolutely did not feel welcome, because none of you — that’s right none of you — looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

  Bailey smothered a smile behind her hand. Her friend Tim Reed was dating a girl who used to be in the Hairspray cast, and a few months ago when Bailey had auditioned, the girl had warned her. Francesca was very, very difficult to work for. But Bailey liked that she demanded perfection. How many directors would tell a cast of professional singers and dancers that they hadn’t looked like they were enjoying themselves? Not many, Bailey figured. That’s what set Francesca apart from the others. And it was why she was grateful she’d be starting her Broadway career here under the critical but careful hand of Ms. Tilly.

  The director was explaining that the number should be so fun, people will have to hold back from jumping into the aisles and dancing along. “That’s the sort of welcome we want people to feel when they watch this number. Like they’ve just been reintroduced into the era of the sixties, and they wish with every heartbeat they could get on stage and join you.”

  They watched for nearly an hour, and Bailey soaked in every correction, every bit of direction Francesca gave them. Being here was good. She would come to her first rehearsal that much more prepared. Finally, Bailey’s mom gave her a gentle nudge, and Bailey stood. The driver would be waiting. Besides, it was time to meet her new landlords, Bob and Betty Keller. Bailey followed her mother to the car, which was already waiting out front.

  “That was amazing.” Her mom’s look was part exhaustion, part nervousness. “I can’t imagine performing in front of her.”

  “It’ll be fun.” Bailey slid into the backseat and made room for her mom to join her. “She only wants everyone to be better.”

  “But the way she does it … I’d be crying in ten minutes.”

  Bailey laughed, imagining Francesca’s reaction if one of her dancers broke into tears. “I don’t think you’d work long on Broadway.”

  “You got that right.” Her mom pulled a folder from her purse and gave the driver the address for the Kellers'. “We’re running a little early … but they’re expecting us.”

  This time they tipped the driver as he helped unload their suitcases from the back of the car. The hotel was only eight blocks from the Kellers’ house. They really hadn’t needed a driver that morning, if it weren’t for their heavy bags. Bailey was glad the Hairspray producers had provided one, for that reason alone. Once the car pulled away, Bailey spotted a man selling roses not far down the street. “Let’s buy some. For Betty.”

  “Good idea.” Her mom pulled two suitcases, while Bailey pulled the other two, and they walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the crowded street until they reached the florist. They bought yellow roses and then headed to the apartment building where the Kellers lived. A doorman stood at the entrance, and when they explained who they were, he buzzed the Kellers and welcomed them into the lobby. Bailey’s mom whispered to her, “I like that they have security.”

  Bailey smiled to herself, grateful to God. She had worried about how safe she would be in New York, and prayed to leave the matter in the Lord’s hands. And now here He had answered her prayers abundantly. Not only was she safe, but completely taken care of. They wheeled the suitcases into the elevator, rode it to the eleventh floor, and as they stepped off, a pretty white-haired woman was waiting for them.

  “You must be Bailey and Jenny.” Her smile filled her face and she held out her hands. First she hugged Jenny, then Bailey. “Aren’t you the prettiest thing?” She stepped back, her hands still on Bailey’s shoulders. “You’ll be marvelous on that Hairspray stage.” She looked back at Jenny. “Come on … I have lunch ready, and Bob’s setting the table.”

  Bailey handed the roses to the woman. “These are for you. Thank you so much for having me … you have no idea how much this means.”

  “Oh, dear … it’s our pleasure. We haven’t had a Broadway actress living with us for far too long. Having girls like you … it keeps us young. We’re going to have a wonderful time together.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, dear … please,” the woman grinned at her and gave her another quick hug. “Call me Betty.”

  “Okay.” Bailey laughed at herself for thinking this situation might be even the slightest bit awkward. “Thank you, Betty.”

  Bailey could tell immediately that she was going to love Betty Keller. The woman reminded her of Elizabeth Baxter — the matriarch of Bloomington’s Baxter family and the first wife of John Baxter. Elizabeth had died of cancer several years back, but her genuine kindness and warmth for everyone she met lived on in the memories of all who knew her. Bailey was no exception.

  They went into the Kellers’ apartment, and the view caught Bailey by surprise. She stopped, and a quiet gasp sounded on her lips. The entire far two walls of the living room were made of glass, and they offered a view of not only the city streets below, but also of Central Park. “Your view … it’s breathtaking.”

  “Thank you.” Bob walked up and introduced himself. He was completely bald with a tanned face and dimples when he smiled that made him look half his age. He gave a silly shrug. “Of course, I can’t take credit for the view, actually. Not really. That’s God’s doing.”

  “But it is always surprising to people how close the park is when you’re this high up. It’s just a few blocks away, really.”

  Bailey imagined sitting on the Kellers’ sofa looking out that window. She would journal here and read her Bible here and even on the craziest day, after crazy difficult rehearsals with Francesca, she would have this respite to come home to. “It’s perfect. Really.”

  Her mom agreed, and for a few minutes they talked about the flight in, and the stop at rehearsals earlier today, and all that lay ahead for Bailey once she began working with the rest of the cast.

  “Francesca is a friend of ours,” Betty winked. “Most people don’t know that. We’re … well, we’re very different.” She slipped her arm around Bob’s waist. “We love Jesus in our house,” she smiled at Bailey, “as you know. Francesca … well, she’s not a believer. She has made that clear a vast number of times, isn’t that right, Bob?”

  “It is. She doesn’t believe a word of it.” He winked again. “Not yet, at least.”

  Bailey felt a ripple of anxiety. She knew about Francesca’s lack of faith. Tim’s girlfriend had told her that. But this confirmation was just a little chilling. “Does she … does she hold it against you if you believe?” If so, then fine. Bailey was ready for the challenge. But she wanted to know now, rather than find out later.

  “Not really.” Betty led them through the living room, around a corner, and down a hallway. She looked back at Bailey. “The thing to remember is, you must show your love as a Christian on Broadway. No one wants to hear about your faith. They must see it.”

  Wise words, Bailey told herself. She nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

  Bob had stayed back in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the lunch. Now Betty opened the first door on the right and stood back while Bailey and her mom entered first. “This is your room.” She put her hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “I hope it’ll work for you.”

  Again Bailey wanted to stop and catch her breath. The room had plush white carpeting and an elevated queen bed, with pale yellow and w
hite bedding. The walls were a deep taupe, and the trim was painted the whitest possible white. All that and she had a window — one that overlooked a part of the street below and more of Central Park. “Mrs. Kel — “ Bailey caught herself. “Betty … it’s beautiful. Beyond anything I ever imagined.”

  “Well, good.” She stood back, happy with the situation. “That’s how God works.”

  “Sound familiar?” Bailey’s mom moved Bailey’s suitcases into the far corner of the room. “Not that we’ll always have a view of Central Park,” she laughed quietly. “But He’ll always exceed what we can imagine Him to do, the ways He comforts us and leads us.”

  “Amen.” Betty turned smiling eyes at Bailey’s mother. “You remind me of my oldest daughter. I’m sure the two of you would’ve been friends.”

  Bailey looked forward to learning more about Betty and Bob, about their family and their lives together, and about their adventures on Broadway. After she’d looked around her new room and noted the large empty closet space and the small attached bathroom and shower, they moved back to the living room. Along the way, Betty explained that she and Francesca had performed in the same cast of Forty-Second Street back in the day. “Not a person on Broadway would’ve figured Francesca would be a director one day,” Betty said. “She was the least serious person in the cast. But something happened to her back then. It’s a long story.” Betty looked back at Bailey. “I’m sure we’ll have lots of time to talk later, when you get in your routine.”

  They all agreed, and for the next hour they shared lunch and talked about how Bob was the cook between the two of them. “I got tired of eating crunchy pasta and microwave dinners.” He chuckled, a fond look on his face. “Bless my Betty’s heart. She’s a much better singer than she is a cook.”