The chance to feel ten feet high.
Twenty
THE BAPTISM OF GERALD GEAR FONTINNI WAS ONE OF THE brightest highlights of Bailey’s time in New York City. In attendance at church that afternoon was nearly every member of the Hairspray cast and of course Brandon, there beside her, holding her hand and understanding exactly what the moment meant to her.
Bailey loved Gerald’s attitude, that he truly had no earthly idea how he was going to leave the lifestyle he’d created for himself or how God was going to change his heart and passions. He didn’t need the answers. His trust in God was absolute. And as he went into the water, Bailey could hear him again, see him again the way he looked at Starbucks that past Wednesday morning. When he had looked at her with teary eyes and asked in a breaking voice whether God was really enough, really all he needed to take this step of faith.
The pastor talked to them about baptism, about the picture it made of being dead to the old self and alive to the new self — the one Jesus had died to set free. Bailey leaned in close to Brandon as Gerald nodded, as he publicly made a confession of the faith he’d grabbed hold of that week. Some of their castmates shifted nervously, uncomfortable with what they were witnessing. But none of them looked away. And Stefano watched the entire scene with tears streaming down his cheeks.
Bailey had a feeling he might be next to surrender to Jesus’ calling on his life.
“I remember this,” Brandon whispered close to her face. “Your dad … baptizing me in your backyard. My life’s been different ever since.”
She slipped her hand around his waist, feeling his strength the way she hadn’t felt it before. When she met Brandon, he was as far from being a believer as Gerald had been a year ago. After he gave his life to the Lord, he still didn’t have the sort of faith she could draw from, the strength of character she could lean on.
But he had it now. Bailey didn’t know when that had changed, but it had. She looked up to Brandon and relied on him and trusted him. More than she had understood before this day. She laid her head on his shoulder and together they watched as Gerald was dipped beneath the water.
When he came up out of it, he raised both fists in the air and shouted out loud: “New life! I have new life!”
Bailey couldn’t stop her tears. She brought her fingers to her lips and laughed quietly, overwhelmed by the joy of it all. Never mind that their last show was in a few hours. This was real life, and for Gerald the run of show had just begun.
Even the castmates uncomfortable with what had just happened gathered around Gerald once he had dried off and changed back into his clothes. Anyone who didn’t know him would’ve thought Gerald was high on some crazy upper, or that maybe he’d had five too many cups of coffee. But when Gerald hugged her he was practically bursting with the chance to tell her how he felt. “It’s the Holy Spirit, Bailey … I feel Him working in me. It’s the best feeling ever.”
She wanted to tell him to be careful, that the feeling wouldn’t always be there, and that being a Christian oftentimes meant walking through dark places in the journey and living only on an unseen, unfelt faith. But this wasn’t the time. Wherever she wound up, whatever show on Broadway, she would stay close to Gerald, and along the way he would continue to grow. For now she only returned his hug and said the one thing he needed to hear. “I couldn’t be happier for you, Gerald. Everything about your life will be different after today.”
“I know.” He shivered a little, the happiness almost more than he could bear. “I can hardly wait!”
When the service let out, the cast ate an early dinner at the Stardust Diner where the wait staff took turns singing show tunes and popular hits from the past fifty years. Some of the workers were friends of the cast, and more than once during dinner one of the staff would pull a Hairspray cast member out onto the floor to sing along.
The two hours there were unforgettable. Half the songs found the whole cast singing along from their tables, and even Brandon sang some. “I told you.” He laughed after one of the songs. “I always wanted to do live theater.”
“Well.” She kissed his cheek. “This is your chance.”
It didn’t occur to her until after they finished the meal that Brandon hadn’t been interrupted by fans throughout the entire dinner. Certainly people must’ve recognized him, but maybe seeing him as part of such a large group of singers, fans were content simply to take in the moment. Catch a clip of video on their phones or a quick photograph from a distance.
Bailey was grateful. Because this wasn’t only a celebration for Gerald, it was a goodbye party. After tonight this group would never have a reason to gather again, never have the bond that for this moment they still shared.
The show that night was everything any of them thought it would be. The notes rang a little clearer, their voices sounded a little more connected. Every dance move was in sync. Brandon sat in the front row again and when the final curtain call came, his eyes shone with tears just like everyone in the cast. The audience knew it was the cast’s final performance, so the standing ovation began the moment the show ended. Bailey was surprised to see some of the people in attendance crying too — like everyone there that night understood what was at stake and how painful the goodbye, how final the moment.
When they finally cleared the stage and filed into the wardrobe area, the hugs and picture-taking and promises to keep in touch lasted another hour. Francesca came by for a little while and thanked them for their work, their professionalism. She said she hoped to work with them all again at some point, and she encouraged them to continue in their Broadway careers. To never give up on their dreams.
Bailey thought about all the years she’d longed for a chance to perform on Broadway. How her high school boyfriend Tim Reed had won a part a year before her and how hard she’d worked to get cast in Hairspray. She had been honest with Brandon. News of her show closing had brought to the surface just one thought: She needed to find another show.
But since then she’d looked through Backstage magazine, same as her castmates, and found nothing. No musicals auditioning for replacement ensemble parts. No new shows in town. She could always come back when something was casting. But for now she had made up her mind about the immediate future.
She would go home for a few weeks, and then set out for Los Angeles. Until she spent a season living in Brandon’s world, she couldn’t live in fear of it. The audition he’d told her about was still an option — though it wasn’t a given. Several talented actresses were up for the same part. Either way, she would live with Katy and Dayne and pray every day that God would show her whether living in Brandon’s world was something she could handle.
Brandon stayed during the goodbyes, keeping to himself, off to the side to give her this time — as long as she needed. When Bailey was finally ready to go, she took Brandon’s hand and smiled into his eyes. “Thank you … for waiting.”
“You needed this.” He leaned close and kissed her forehead. “You ready?”
She nodded. “I am.”
The night was warmer than it had been all winter — nearly forty degrees. And since they’d both worn their winter coats, Brandon didn’t even have to ask about the rooftop. He merely stepped into the elevator with her once they reached her apartment building, shared a look with her, and pressed the button for the top floor. There was no wind that night, so when they stepped out onto the roof, the air was pleasant — as if God had created this moment just for them.
He led her to the far side, to the patio where they had danced more than two months ago. “You were beautiful tonight.” He allowed himself to get lost in her eyes, his expression that familiar one, where he looked half dizzy just being with her. “Maybe you should look for another show.”
“No.” She felt a rush of sadness, but the feeling didn’t change what she knew to be true. “I followed my dream, and I was incredibly blessed to have this chance. But I can take a break from Broadway.” She put her arms around his neck, an easy space between
them. “Nothing’s casting in the near future.” She smiled. “Broadway’s not my dream right now.”
“Mmm.” He swayed gently with her. “What’s your dream now, Bailey?”
“Maybe … my dream is you.”
He smiled in response and it took up his whole face. “I sort of hoped you might say that.”
She steadied herself. “Seriously … I don’t need New York right now. I’ve done this, and now it’s time for something else. At least until the right show comes along.”
He nodded, searching her eyes. “The LA audition?”
“Yes.” She nodded, certain. “I’ve prayed about it. I’ll go home for a few weeks and then I’ll go to LA. It might be a long shot, but I need to try. To see if God is opening doors for me to act, to work in movies.”
“You mean … do life together?” He framed her face with his hand. “Even with the relentless paparazzi.”
“Even with that.” She brushed her cheek against his. “As long as I can be with you.”
“You’re serious?” He stopped swaying and took a step back. His eyes locked on hers. “How long have you known this?”
She laughed. “I called Katy Matthews this morning. Before the church service. I told her I wasn’t sure how long I’d need a place, but for now I’d like to live with them.”
Brandon turned away and raised both hands to the sky. “Thank You, God!” he shouted the words, turning in a fast circle as if he wanted the whole city to hear him. “Bailey Flanigan is moving to LA! Whoo-hooo!”
“Shhh.” Bailey went to him and pulled him into a hug. “Someone’ll call the police.”
“Good!” He was still loud, but he turned his focus to her once more. “They can celebrate with us.” For a moment he bent over, his hands on his knees. “I mean, give me a minute to catch my breath, Bailey. I’m sitting in the audience tonight wondering if you’ll ever consider working in LA …” He straightened again and held his hands out. “And now you’re moving there? You’re serious? You’re moving in with the Matthews?”
Bailey loved the way he made her laugh. With Cody life always seemed serious, like she was forever talking him into staying or trying to convince him she was telling the truth or wondering why he had run away again. With Brandon — though they had their share of serious moments — for the most part she was always laughing.
This was one of those times.
He took her hand and led her along the entire perimeter of the building, the length of the paved path all the way back to where they started out near the far patio. “That’s me trying to keep my feet on the ground.” He exhaled and laughed at the same time. “Okay. Now that I have a grasp on this new reality …” He settled down some and came to her, pulling her close and looking deep into her eyes. “Tell me this, Bailey … how am I going to survive two weeks without you?”
Bailey hadn’t thought about that. She was still laughing, because after his last few minutes it was a little hard to take him seriously. “You’re still going to be here, right? Finishing the movie?”
“Yes.” He grew quiet, studying her, his mind clearly racing. “Unless maybe you can get a room here at the Ritz and come with me to set every day and we could leave here at the same time.”
“Brandon …” She put her hands alongside his face. “I need to go home. I have to figure out what to do, and spend time with my family.” She brought her face close to his. “Plus, I’ll see your eyes every night on Skype.”
“Mmm.” He groaned, as if the distance might be more than he could take. “Two weeks though — “
“Then we’ll be in LA … for who knows how long.”
“Hey, wait a minute.” He was lost in her eyes, that much was obvious. “I know how long.” He kissed her, just long enough for her to know the depth of his feelings. “Ask me.”
“You’re crazy.” She swallowed another wave of giggles, doing her best to be serious. “Okay, fine. How long will I be there?”
“That’s easy.” He slipped his arms around her waist and swayed with her again. “Forever, Bailey. You’ll be with me forever.”
“In LA?” The idea scared her more than she was willing to talk about. Deep down it was the one thing she wasn’t sure about. Whether she could see herself living in LA, being a California girl when Bloomington was still so deeply rooted in her heart. “You see me in LA with you forever, huh?”
“Not in LA.” He didn’t blink, didn’t laugh. Bailey could sense that Brandon had never been more serious in all his life.
“Wherever you are, Bailey. That’s where I’ll be. As long as my heart’s beating.”
There was nothing to say, no need for words. Brandon had said the only thing that mattered, the words that stayed with Bailey long after he left and she returned to her room to start packing. Brandon didn’t need LA and she didn’t need New York. They only needed one thing to feel like they were home.
They needed each other.
Bailey held onto the thought then and through her final days in New York as she shared a teary goodbye with the Kellers and thanked them for opening their home and their hearts. She would always be better for the lessons she’d learned living with the kind and giving couple.
The goodbyes continued, and the thought of Brandon sustained her while she spent a final morning with the friends in her Bible study. All of them agreed to keep in touch, and Bailey was encouraged by their news that day. The group planned to join Gerald at his new church’s Bible Basics small group.
Finally it was time for Bailey to leave New York. The day before her flight home to Indianapolis, she went to the rooftop alone and looked out over the city. God had brought her here, and He had been faithful to grow her in a season where she had lived out her dream. The dream of dancing on Broadway. Now though, her dreams had changed. And God would go before her to LA, she was sure of it. As she breathed in the city air one final time, she felt peace about the move and a familiar thrill.
She could hardly wait to see what He had next.
Twenty-One
CHEYENNE’S BREATHING WAS LABORED AND SHE HADN’T SAT UP in two days. She was losing consciousness and every moment was more than Cody could bear. He sat at her bedside, and Tara sat across from him in a second chair. “Dear God … we can’t do this. Please … if she’s ready, take her home.”
Cody wasn’t there yet, couldn’t pray that way. He still wanted God to work a miracle, give Chey another chance at life. Heaven would always be there. This was the only time she’d have to be young and alive and a part of God’s plan on earth. The idea that this was the end for her was still something he couldn’t believe. When Tara prayed that way, that God would take her home, all he could do was clench his fists and lean on his knees and stare at the ground.
“Maybe … maybe I should get her some water.” He stood and walked to the door. “Do you think she’d drink some? If I brought her a glass?”
Tara’s cheeks were tearstained, her body weary from standing by in Cheyenne’s fight. The answer was in her eyes, but she must’ve known that Cody needed a purpose, a reason to leave the room. “Yes, that’d be good.” She leaned over the bed and took Chey’s limp hand. “Cody’s going to get you water, baby. Okay? You need some water?”
Cheyenne rarely responded. She’d been this way since the weekend, and now it was Wednesday, the eighth of February. A hospice nurse had been by earlier and the news was worse — the way it was always worse. Cheyenne didn’t have long. There was no way to tell whether she’d ever open her eyes or talk or sit up again.
“Yes, Cody … she might want some.” She patted Chey’s hand, and turned to face him. “Why don’t you get her some water?”
All his days at war had not prepared him for the battle they’d waged alongside Cheyenne, the battle against brain cancer. It was one thing to see death and destruction moment by moment. But this long, slow fade … this cutting of the ties to earth one string at a time … Cody wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. Every time Cheyenne went to sleep h
e wondered if he’d see her one more time, or if she’d have one more time to open her beautiful brown eyes. Whether he’d ever hear her voice again. As it was, they hadn’t been able to rouse her in nearly forty-eight hours.
He got the water, stopped to add ice, and then rethought the idea. If she would take a sip, then she didn’t need ice cubes. The water would be enough. Water and a straw — the kind with the bendable top. So if she was thirsty she could sip it without having to lift her head. Yes, that was the best way.
Even before he stepped back inside her room he could smell it. Nothing about the smell was familiar to him. Again, in Iraq death was quick and merciful. Injured soldiers who could be saved were operated on and sent to recovery. Death never had a smell the way it did here.
Inside the room he walked slowly to the side of Cheyenne’s bed. Tara leaned back, giving him space to work, to try to reach her. “Chey? Sweetie can you hear me?”
No response.
Cody gritted his teeth, holding the glass of water steady. He brushed his free hand against her cheek, soft and tender. “Cheyenne … I have water. Are you thirsty?”
For the first time that day she made a sound. Nothing loud, no audible words. But a soft moan that told him at least this much: She could hear him. A ray of hope cracked the darkness and splashed a birthday candle of light on the moment.
“Try again. I think she’s thirsty.” Tara folded her hands, her body tense as she watched. “Please, Cody … keep trying.”
“Cheyenne, it’s me, Cody … I have water for you.”
Gradually, in a way he was almost sure he would never see again, she moved her eyelids, struggling for the chance to open them.