Longing

  God … help me know how to do this … I miss her so much.

  Almost as if by answer, he pictured his buddy Art. The big smile and bigger laugh, the way he would’ve stepped in front of a bullet for Cody or anyone else. He imagined Cheyenne coming into the kingdom, being greeted by Jesus and a host of people who had come to meet her. And he thought about that moment when she would see Art again, when they’d run into each other’s arms and hug for the longest time.

  A smile pierced the sadness in his heart. If he could hold on to that picture, he’d be fine. Even when it felt like every heartbeat required effort. Cody looked into the winter sky and remembered their last real conversation, when she’d talked to him about two things pressing on her heart. Heaven, of course.

  And Bailey Flanigan.

  From then until now Cody hadn’t wanted to think about her message, the strength of her feelings. But now … with her gone … he had no choice. Chey meant nothing harmful by her observations, and she spoke them with no sense of jealousy or manipulation. It wasn’t for herself that she feared Cody might run to Bailey in the season after her passing.

  It was for him.

  Her point was a simple one: Maybe he and Bailey had never been right for each other. Not all first loves were forever loves. The idea only added hurt to his heart. Whatever way he chose to believe after this, Cheyenne’s wisdom would remain. He might need weeks to sort through the implications, and longer than that if he decided she was right. For now he couldn’t think about it. He wanted to hold onto Cheyenne, the life inside her, the love.

  But even as he dedicated his entire existence to her memory, he remembered his cell phone in his back pocket.

  He had called the Flanigans earlier today, but he hadn’t checked his phone since then. The air was cold, more snow in the forecast for later that day. He pulled out his phone and clicked the front button. Sure enough, he had two voicemail messages and a text. He checked the text first and felt his lungs fill with a quick breath. It was from Bailey.

  My mom told me about your call. I’m heartsick about this, Cody. I’m so sorry. I cancelled my flight to LA so I could be here. In case you need anything. Please … let me know. My mom and I can bring meals or make phone calls — whatever. I’m here for you.

  He pictured her, sitting in the home she grew up in, the home he grew up in, waiting and wondering. Trying to decide whether she’d made the right choice by going to LA two days later. The way he’d talked so short to her the other day probably made her wonder whether he cared at all for her.

  Fresh tears poked pins at his eyes and he closed them against the chill of the winter wind. He didn’t need casseroles or phone calls or errands run for him. He needed just one thing. No matter what Cheyenne had told him a few days ago. Suddenly he needed her more than he needed the morning. He let his fingers tap out the message, straight from his heart to hers.

  I need you, Bailey. Only you.

  Twenty-Five

  BAILEY RECEIVED THE TEXT JUST BEFORE DINNER. SHE READ IT A dozen times thinking through the different ways he might’ve meant the words, or how she should best respond in light of the fact that she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend she loved very much.

  Finally she allowed herself to settle on the explanation that made the most sense. She had offered her help, offered to be there however he might need her. And he had taken her up on her offer. They had known each other since she was a freshman in high school. If he wanted to see her now, to grieve with her and draw strength from her, then she was ready to be there for him.

  On her way down to help her mom with the meal, she answered his text. First there was the obvious: Cheyenne was gone. And in the painful time after saying a final goodbye, Cody had finally checked his messages. There was no need asking how she was. Bailey was sure about that. She poised her fingers over her phone’s keyboard and thought for a long minute.

  Dear God, please give me the words. It’s always so complicated with Cody. But this time it’s not about me or about us … this is for him. So give me the right words … please.

  The answer spoke peace to her heart.

  Daughter, I am with you … love as I have loved.

  God wanted her to love Cody, the way He loved Cody. The way she might love anyone who needed her help. Whatever other complications their past added to the mix, she would set them aside for now. She stared at the blank text box and began to type.

  I told you I was here for you, and I am. Just tell me when and I’ll come to you. Again … I’m so sorry, Cody.

  She reread her message and then sent it. A minute passed while she stared at their conversation, hardly believing that this was really Cody Coleman she was talking to, and knowing once more that God didn’t want her to think about him that way. Not during this season. Just when she was going to put her phone away and head downstairs, his response appeared on her phone screen.

  I’ll come to you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine o’clock and we can go to the lake. We’ll have about an hour. Then I need to talk to your dad about a few things. Is that okay?

  Yes … I’ll see you here. And hey … I’m praying for you.

  This time his answer came more quickly. Thanks. I can feel it.

  After dinner she told her mom about the conversation. “He’s taking me to Lake Monroe. Then he wants to talk to Dad.”

  “We’ll be here.” Her mom’s eyes filled with peace. “This is good, Bailey, that the two of you are going to talk. That he’s making the effort and coming here to pick you up.”

  Bailey almost always agreed with her mother; the two of them saw things the same way often. But something in her mother’s tone bothered her. “It’s not a date. You know that, right?”

  “Of course.” Her mom looked a little hurt. “I’m just saying I like that it matters enough for him to come to you. Even though you were willing to go to him.”

  Even after they finished talking and Bailey headed up to her room, she wasn’t convinced — as if secretly her mom hoped tomorrow would be a turning point for Bailey and Cody, and they might find in the wake of tragedy that they loved each other again. But the idea was ridiculous. Even if she still had feelings for Cody, this wouldn’t have been the time for him to pronounce a newfound love for her. He was grieving, and he needed someone who knew his heart.

  Nothing more.

  Once she was upstairs she called Brandon and gave him the update. The call was brief, and Bailey knew that deep down Brandon wasn’t happy about tomorrow’s meeting. But he trusted her. That reality spoke louder than anything either of them said.

  By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Bailey’s stomach was nervous about whatever lay ahead. Sure, she could tell herself she was only meeting him as a friend, only helping him grieve. But that didn’t change the fact that for so many years of her life she’d been in love with Cody Coleman, that she’d waited for him when he went to Iraq and longed for him every day after that. Right up until this last year.

  She was sitting outside in a short winter jacket when he pulled up. His pickup was the same one he’d had the past several years, and something about seeing him stop in the circle at the front of her house made her feel like she was nineteen again … or twenty … or twenty-one. Back when she lived for moments like this.

  There was no reason for him to get out, so she jogged down the walkway and slid into his passenger seat before he could kill the engine. The cold air, combined with her nerves, made her sound breathless as she buckled her seatbelt. “Hi.” She was careful to keep her tone subdued. The reason she was here was at the front of her mind. “I’m sorry.” She faced him, still catching her breath. “She was way too young.”

  “She was.” He leaned over and hugged her. His eyes were dry, but clearly he hadn’t gotten much sleep. As he sat up and faced the wheel, he glanced at her again. “Cheyenne’s safe. I know that. It’s just … she said some things. I couldn’t get past them until I talked to you.”

  Bailey nodded and the fear inside h
er tripled. Chey had said something to him in the days before she died? Was that what he meant? And was the conversation somehow about her, because why else would Cody want to talk to her in light of that very same discussion? Be patient, Bailey, she told herself. God, help me be patient.

  They said very little as he drove to the lake, as he parked in their same parking spot adjacent to the trailhead and climbed out of the car. Bailey wore several layers beneath her coat and at the last minute she decided to leave it in the car. She didn’t want to be too warm. And she had no idea how much walking Cody had in mind.

  Again she didn’t wait for him to get her door. The less this felt like the past, the better. They walked fifty yards or so to their rock, the enormous boulder that sat at the edge of the trail and overlooked the lake. “Up here okay?”

  Bailey nodded, glad she’d left her jacket behind. Once they were both seated at the top, side by side, their eyes on the cold gray lake far below, Bailey quietly repeated what she’d told him earlier. “I’m sorry … I really am.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Cody looked like he’d been up all night, and his eyes proved he’d been crying.

  “I didn’t think you’d call.” She kept her eyes on the lake, not looking to make a connection or renew a connection now. “Didn’t seem like you wanted me to be a part of this, of the heartache you’ve been going through.”

  “It wasn’t that.” He seemed to know what she was talking about. “That night I just needed your dad. The way I would’ve needed my own dad if he were in the picture.” Cody didn’t seem particularly open. He set his jaw and stared straight ahead. But after maybe a minute of sitting in silence, he sighed and turned his eyes to her. “I have two things I’d like to tell you.”

  Bailey felt her heartbeat quicken. Whatever it was, he had thought this through. There was a point to their meeting.

  “That day on your parents’ front porch … I didn’t tell you everything.” The doors in her eyes were open and he walked straight into the rooms of her heart — where only he had ever been. “Remember I told you that I ran from you because I was trying to survive? Because that’s what I was trained to do when the situation looked hopeless?”

  “Yes.”

  He folded his hands tightly together, as if that was the only way to keep from reaching out to her. “Well … I was wrong. That’s why I’m here. Because for one thing, I had to tell you that.”

  His admission took seconds to work its way through her. She searched his eyes. Hadn’t she always wondered if this was how he’d felt back then? Whether he regretted his decision? “You’re saying … you should’ve stayed?”

  “Yes.” The word was a raw whisper, agonizing and heavy with regret. “If it killed me.” He watched her, waiting for her response.

  She folded her arms in front of her, aware again of the cool lake air. “I might need a minute.”

  “I couldn’t go another day without telling you.” His tone, his face made it clear he wasn’t sorry he’d finally been honest. “Don’t be upset with me.”

  “I’m not.” Her teeth chattered again, and she willed herself to resist the cold. “It’s just … it’s too late. I mean, where does that leave us?”

  “That’s the second part.” Cody studied her, the closeness from a few minutes ago still there between them. “Cheyenne said something about you, in one of our last conversations. Something that made me see the two of us … I don’t know, differently.”

  Bailey pulled one knee up and hugged it. “What did she say?”

  “Well … Chey watched me, she watched us … how we looked at each other that night before the game.”

  Bailey knew what was coming. Cheyenne was a very special girl from everything Cody had ever said. She probably wanted to give her blessing that after she was gone Cody should find Bailey again, pursue his first love again. She waited … wondering what she would say in response, how hearing those words would make her feel.

  “She told me … in her opinion my feelings for you were really only for the ideal of you. That it would be a mistake to try to make things work with you again.”

  The rock beneath her seemed suddenly made of foam rubber. “She said that?” Bailey’s head began to spin. How could Chey know? Because she’d seen how they looked at each other at a football game? And just like that she could proclaim that in her opinion the two of them weren’t right for each other? Bailey was in love with someone else, and even she still struggled with the way they had looked at each other that night.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” He sounded tired. He looked out at the water again. “That maybe she was jealous, or — I don’t know — if she couldn’t have me, then she didn’t want anyone else having me.” His eyes caught hers again. “Especially not you.” He shook his head. “But that wasn’t it. Actually … what she said made sense in a sort of sad way.” The water caught his attention again. “That’s why I needed this time. To see if maybe you agreed with her.”

  Bailey felt faint, like she was stuck in some bad dream or being tossed on a stormy sea with no sure sense of where the ground was. “I … I guess I don’t get it.”

  For a long time, Cody rested his forearm on his knee and let his head fall on his wrist. “I’m tired. I’m sure I’m not making sense.”

  She had to agree, but she waited. Of all the things she thought he might talk about, the idea that she wasn’t the right girl for him was probably last on the list.

  He slumped a little, obviously worn out from all he’d been through. “But it was that other part Cheyenne pointed out.” The pain in his eyes made it clear that none of this was easy for him. “That deep down if I kept running from you, then you probably weren’t the right girl for me. And I probably wasn’t the right guy.”

  Bailey thought about that for a moment, and gradually the truth in Cheyenne’s thinking dawned in her heart. “I hadn’t … thought of it that way before.”

  “Yeah, me either.” Cody straightened his shoulders.

  Again Bailey waited. The air was warming, the sun breaking through the storm clouds from last night. But the cold inside her remained.

  Cody put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s true in a way. When I ran so many times, when I left for the Army, and when I left for Indianapolis while you finished up your movie with Brandon Paul … I always said the same thing. That you deserved someone better … that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  She nodded, clenching her teeth to keep from shivering. It was still hard to believe this was really happening, that she was sitting here along the snowy edge of Lake Monroe talking to Cody Coleman about the past.

  The sunshine felt warm on their faces, as if God, Himself, was shining a light of understanding between them. Cody removed his hand from her and wrapped his arms around his knees. For a long time he looked out at the lake as if by doing so there might be a way back to yesterday, to a time when this understanding might’ve made a difference for both of them.

  “My mom … when you left after that summer. She told me I’d know love was right because … the right guy would pursue me like a dying man in the desert pursued water.” She sniffed, and felt the knowing look in her eyes. “You never did that.”

  “No.” He squinted against the glare of the sun and then lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes. “I didn’t.”

  “So why tell me now?” She felt the beginning of tears in her eyes, and she slid away from him, her legs tucked beneath her. “Why tell me that Cheyenne didn’t think we were right for each other?”

  “She thought it was my fault.” He looked broken, like he was aware he’d probably said too much and now he would’ve done anything to take back at least that part — the part about Cheyenne’s feelings. “I thought you should know … because … well, because maybe she was right.”

  “That we were never meant to be?” Anger fanned a flame in her soul. Her voice grew louder, tears choking every word. “You thought I’d want to hear that?”

  “Maybe not. Bu
t it was my fault. I can see that now.”

  Bailey stood and turned her back to him. The rock was icy and it occurred to her that if she slipped she’d fall halfway down the hillside. Before that was even remotely possible, Cody was up and at her side. “Come on … let’s get down.”

  “No.” She jerked her hand from his and as she did, she felt her feet fly out from under her. Before she could scream, he grabbed hold of her. Caught her beneath her arms and pulled her to the other side, back to the path and to safety.

  He was out of breath, more from the close call than the effort it took to save her. “You’re crazy!” he yelled at her. “You could’ve killed yourself up there.”

  She didn’t say anything, didn’t know if she could if she wanted to. Her heart pounded out the fact that he was right. If he hadn’t been there … She swallowed hard and put her hands on her head, struggling to catch her breath.

  “Bailey …” He reached out and waited. “Please … I don’t want to fight.”

  For a few seconds she turned away from him, leaving him standing there. What right did he have to take her hand now, after all he’d told her? All the ways he’d opened old wounds in her heart? She blinked back another wave of tears and finally … when she wasn’t strong enough to resist him a moment longer, she turned and gradually reached out to him.

  He didn’t slip his fingers between hers. That would’ve been too intimate, too confusing given the conversation, and given the fact that she had Brandon. But he held her hand the way an older brother might’ve held it, as a way of telling her everything was somehow going to be okay. “I guess … what I want to say is that … I should’ve treated you like a real girl.”