“It takes me awhile.” Andi sat back on her heels. “She was killed in a car accident in August.”
Shock changed Bailey’s expression, and she looked again at the photo. “That’s terrible.”
“I know. She was with another friend of ours. He was driving.” Andi recited what she knew about the accident, but the details were never enough, never what any of them needed to make sense of it. “Sunny day, middle of the afternoon. For some reason he lost control and hit a tree. He lived, but Rachel … she died at the scene.”
Bailey looked at the picture a little longer and then backed up until she dropped slowly to the edge of her bed. “Wow, Andi. That’s so sad.”
Andi thought about being honest, telling Bailey about her new struggles with faith, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice them. Not yet, anyway. She looked at the picture of Rachel. “She left behind a quote book.” Andi opened the second drawer in her nightstand and pulled out a small spiral-bound notebook. Rachel’s photo was on the front. “Everyone got one of these at her memorial service. A copy of her exact quote book, written in her own printing and everything.”
“A quote book.” Bailey leaned back on her elbows. “That’s such a cool idea.”
“Here.” Andi sat on the edge of her bed and flipped the book open. She hadn’t looked through Rachel’s quote book since she arrived in Bloomington, but she was glad she kept it close by. Reading the things that meant something to Rachel made Andi feel like the two of them could still be friends. Even if Rachel was in heaven. If there was a heaven, anyway. She stopped when she found what she was looking for. “Here’s one of my favorites:‘God is more concerned about our character than our comfort. His goal is not to pamper us physically, but to perfect us spiritually.’” She glanced beneath the quote. “That came from some guy named Paul Powell.”
“Hmmm.” Bailey positioned her pillow against the wall and slid back against it. “God is more concerned with our character than our comfort.” She smiled. “I can definitely relate to that.”
Andi pictured Rachel so full of life, so excited about the future. Suddenly she didn’t want to spend another minute remembering her friend or looking through her quote book. Not another second thinking about God or His concerns for people or somehow attaining a perfect sort of spirituality. She set the collection back in her drawer and took a quick breath. “Enough of that.” She pulled one knee up and hugged it to her chest. “How was your weekend at home?”
“Great.” Bailey smiled, though some of the sadness about Rachel remained. “We went to my dad’s game this morning, and they won. So that was good. They’re doing better than last year.”
“Yeah, I heard on the news.” She bounced up off the bed and flipped on the radio. She didn’t want to sit around feeling sad. God or no God, Rachel never would’ve wanted that. “What about your cute little brothers? They had soccer, right?”
“They won. BJ scored a goal and Justin scored two. Shawn was named defensive player of the game.” Bailey laughed. “Just another day on the soccer field for those three.” She jabbed her finger in the air. “And don’t forget about Ricky, our little football player. He’s only eleven, but he threw for two touchdowns.”
“Maybe he’ll play for your dad one day.”
“That’s all he talks about. Being a Colt and playing for my dad.” Bailey laughed. “It’s like a circus at my house. Always something going on.” Her smile was genuine. “You have to come home with me one of these weekends. See for yourself how crazy it is.” The kindness in her eyes was genuine. “What about you? What did you do over the weekend?”
“My dad and I met for dinner. He’s excited about his movie. A lot riding on it, that’s for sure.” She felt her eyes light up. “He said we could both be extras. He might even have a line or two for us, depending on how it goes.”
“I can’t wait.” Bailey angled her head. “So come home with me, okay? Maybe next weekend?”
“I’d probably never leave.” Andi grabbed a water bottle from a case on the floor beneath their desk. “I always wanted a bunch of sisters and brothers. It wasn’t so bad in Indonesia, because all the kids felt like my family.” She twisted off the bottle cap and took a swig of water. “But back here it’s boring being an only child.”
“Speaking of not being bored …” Bailey jumped up and took a bottle of water for herself. “I grabbed a flyer from the Campus Crusade booth before I left for the weekend.” She sorted through a stack of papers on her nightstand and then held up a blue piece of paper. “Here. Every Thursday they have CRU at eight o’clock. Singing and a message. I guess a couple hundred kids go.”
“Really?” Andi took the flyer and looked over the details. She pushed her doubts as far down as they would go. “Yeah, I meant to find out about that last week. You wanna check it out?”
“Definitely. The guy I talked to said it’s great. They have small group Bible studies too.”
Andi nodded. “I’d love that.” When it came to matters of faith, the dialogue came so easily she might as well have been reading a script. No matter how she was feeling inside. “Monday night would work for a small group. For you too, right?”
“Definitely.”
“Depending on the auditions and whether we make it into Scrooge.” Andi felt a batch of butterflies zip through her middle. “I’m scared to death for Tuesday. I can’t believe you talked me into it.”
Bailey laughed. “You’re tall, thin, and gorgeous. You have a personality bigger than the IU campus and you want to be an actress.” She took a long sip of water. “What’re you afraid of?”
“I want to act, not sing!” Andi stared at herself in the small mirror that hung near their bathroom door. “I hope they don’t laugh me off the stage.”
“We’ll pray about it before we go.” Bailey heaved her back-pack onto her bed and dug through it until she pulled out an advanced algebra book. “You have your song yet?”
“I found the music for “Tale As Old As Time” from Beauty and the Beast.”
“That’s perfect.” She sat cross-legged on her bed and pulled out her binder. “Ugh … I have about a hundred math problems to finish.”
“That stinks.” Andi turned away from the mirror. “What about you? What are you singing?”
“I don’t know.” Bailey’s blue eyes looked deep and innocent. “Probably something from Last Five Years. Every song in that play’s so emotional.” She released a long breath. “Don’t you have homework?”
“I did it already.” Andi remembered her earlier invitation from the girls across the hall. They were going to watch the latest Reese Witherspoon movie, just out on DVD, and they asked her to join them. Andi finished her water and tossed the empty bottle in a recycling bin. “I’ll be across the hall. That way you can get your work done.”
“Okay.” Bailey smiled. “I can’t wait for CRU.” She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe that’s where you’ll meet him.”
“Who?” Andi blinked.
“Your Prince Charming.” Bailey laughed. “Remember? You said he’s somewhere on this campus.”
“Oh, him.” Andi let her own laughter mix with her roommate’s. “I guess we’ll see on Thursday.”
Andi left, but not until she was alone in the hallway did she realize how phony she felt, talking to Bailey about Campus Crusade and small group Bible studies, and agreeing that there was a good chance she’d meet her Prince Charming come Thursday night. Andi liked Bailey, and she hoped with all her heart that the two of them could become best friends. But if so, then one of these days Andi would have to be honest about her doubts.
As she opened the dorm room across the hall and joined the half dozen girls who had gathered there, she still couldn’t get a handle on her thoughts or the desperate prayer she’d uttered before Bailey came home. She wanted to live life to the fullest—the way Rachel always wanted to live it. But no matter how strongly she’d once believed, she was no longer sure about God or the reason for praying or the need for Bible stu
dy. Truth seemed like something gray without lines or definition, and she could no longer clearly state what she did and didn’t believe. But when it came to her Prince Charming, she was pretty sure about this much.
She didn’t expect to find him at a Campus Crusade meeting.
Five
THE CAST AND CREW WERE SET up in and around an old corner house in downtown Bloomington, ready for the first day of shooting. The actors involved in the first scenes had done their read-throughs, grips and techs were ready, and the cameras and lighting were in perfect position. The set dresser had scoured every inch of the house, even replacing photos that had been on the fireplace mantle with new photos of the movie’s key characters. Every detail had been addressed.
Keith had made sure of it, and Chase had double-checked that every person, every position, was ready for filming to begin. Call was at seven that morning, but most of the cast and crew reported half an hour early, checking in at base camp where the cast trailers were set up alongside a tent-covered outdoor dining area and the oversized food truck that would service meals for the shoot.
It was a few minutes before seven and Keith watched the cast and crew file over from base camp and take their places. He lifted his eyes beyond the orange and yellow tops of the trees that lined the neighborhood. It’s really happening, God … we dreamed about making this movie and now here we are. You are faithful beyond all—
“Somebody better tell me what’s going on!”
The loud angry words stopped Keith short. He turned to see Rita Reynolds—their lead actress—storming toward the set, her face red, her footsteps angry and purposeful. But before he could intercept her, she launched into a tirade like nothing Keith had ever seen. He watched her huff her way over to Chase, who was sitting with the director of photography a few yards away from where Keith was set up.
“Are you kidding me?” she screeched the question as she came up to Chase. Her tone made everyone in shouting distance turn to see what was wrong.
“Rita?” Chase stood, his expression blank. “Something wrong?”
“Yes, something is very wrong.” She tossed her hands in the air and moved closer to Chase. “I asked for salmon, and it’s not here!”
Whatever she said next, Keith couldn’t quite make out, but she remained animated and angry—something none of them could mistake. Keith studied her, their leading lady. She’d already been to makeup and wardrobe, so she wore a pale blue silk cover-up and a matching scarf tied loosely over her platinum blonde hair—a getup that meant no one could mistake her for anything but the star she was. The dark sunglasses had to be at least partly for dramatic effect, because the sky was completely overcast.
Chase was saying something about making a few phone calls, trying to get salmon on the set by dinnertime. Rita shook her head and took three angry steps away from Chase before turning back to him. “Look,” she was yelling again, “I’m supposed to have a filet of salmon every morning. Every single morning.” She flipped her hand toward the food truck. “But the guy in the truck tells me he knows nothing about it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Wild Alaskan salmon, Chase. Does that ring a bell?”
Keith wasn’t sure whether to move closer and rescue his friend, or watch from a distance. He decided on the latter. He knew nothing about the salmon request, and he doubted Chase did either.
“For breakfast?” Chase kept his tone calm. He set his clipboard down on his director’s chair and faced her squarely. “You want wild Alaskan salmon for breakfast?”
“Yes!” The word came out as a shriek. “Check my contract! Wild Alaskan sockeye salmon. Every morning. Every day I’m on the set.” She made an exasperated sound and then realized how many eyes were watching her. She glared at a group of grips. “What’re you looking at?”
Keith felt the hair on his neck rise. Rita Reynolds was one of the finest actresses in Hollywood, but the casting director had warned them. “She’s a handful. Be ready to wait on her.”
Given their budget and the lack of A-list actresses interested in a lesser paycheck, Keith and Chase had told the casting director no problem. “We’ll wash her feet if it comes to that.”
“You might have to,” they were told. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Keith took a deep breath and held it for a beat. As he exhaled, he resolved that he would find a way to serve Rita—even if it meant cooking her salmon every morning himself. They needed her in this picture. She would play the young mother of the college boy whose story they were about to tell through film, a significant part with featured scenes in every act. But if this was how she handled herself on day one, he could hardly imagine the rollercoaster ride she would put them through over the next four weeks. He picked up his megaphone. “Everyone take five. We’ll start up after that.”
The forty-some people who made up the crew didn’t have to be told twice. They formed cliques of twos and threes and milled across the street to the second truck, the one that would be set up all day with water, coffee, and snacks. Keith didn’t tell them not to watch Rita Reynolds, but clearly they knew. Like with any temperamental actress, if Rita wasn’t working, no one was working. A few of the electricians glanced over their shoulders at Keith, and one of them raised an eyebrow. The message was unmistakable. Whatever the trouble about the salmon, the producers better get things fixed.
Keith drew a steadying breath. Is this how it’s going to be, God? The whole time? He checked his watch. Ten minutes. They hadn’t started filming and already they were ten minutes behind schedule. We’re using other people’s money for this movie, Father … we can’t get behind or we won’t have enough to finish. A verse flashed in his mind, one he’d read early that morning before leaving his hotel room for the set: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” The verse came like a direct answer from God. Of course there would be trouble. He didn’t need to panic, he needed to rest in the greater truth. God was in control. He joined his friend and gave a look that dismissed the director of photography.
Chase locked eyes with him, casting him a baffled look that cried for help.
But before Keith could add any perspective to the conversation, Rita turned her tirade on him. “Tell me you didn’t know about this! I mean, I come down here completely ready because I’m a professional, expecting that everyone else is just as ready for day one. But no one, not one person, has told the guy in the truck about my salmon breakfast.” She used both hands to point to her pretty cheeks. “I’m not a teenager, guys. I need my omega threes every morning if I’m going to keep this skin. Botox can only do so much. I need Alaskan salmon. Every morning. No exceptions.” She made a dramatic attempt to calm herself down. When she spoke again, she was no longer yelling but her eyes and tone still screamed with anger. “Greasy eggs are not good for my face. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Rita.” Keith sounded apologetic, but not guilty. He thought about reminding her that anger couldn’t be good for her face either, but he decided against it.
“Now listen,” Chase crossed his arms, his own frustrations beginning to sound in his voice. “This isn’t our fault. If your agent would’ve made it clear, then maybe we could—”
“Hold on.” Keith held his hand up and shot a look of empathy at Chase. Keith had always been the easier going of the two, and now he needed to keep his friend in check or the issue could blow up in their faces. Calm, he told himself. Keep things calm. Keith put his hand gently on his star actress’s arm. “Rita, we’ll find you some salmon. It’ll be here every morning after today.” He managed to maintain a stance of authority despite giving in to her demands. “But Chase is right. I can promise you, we knew nothing about this. The two of us went over every line of your contract and there was nothing about a daily salmon breakfast. The issue never once came up in negotiations with your agent.” “
Are you serious?” She made an exasperated sound. “Great. If this is his fault, I’ll fire him today.” She rolled her eyes. For a
few seconds it seemed she might reel herself in, reflect a little on her temper tantrum and the unflattering light it put her in. But then she unleashed another wave at Keith. “Here’s how it is.” Her hands were on her hips again. “Someone gets my salmon here in the next hour, or I walk.”
“We’ll find something.” Keith’s look told Chase to keep quiet.
She tossed her head. “I won’t ask for broccoli. That’d be too much for you people.” A loud sigh rattled in her throat. “I’ll be in my trailer. Let me know when my breakfast is here.” With that she took hard fast steps toward the trailers at base camp, set up around the corner in an empty field.
Chase hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck, his breathing fast and jagged. “This is ridiculous.” He hissed. He kept his voice low, but his words sounded like they were forced through clenched teeth. “It’s seven in the morning. Where are we supposed to find salmon at this hour?”
“Let me think.” Keith could still feel the rest of the cast and crew watching them from across the street. He knew what they were thinking. He and Chase were the producers, and whatever problem came up, the solution had to be theirs. Even the task of finding wild Alaskan sockeye salmon at seven in the morning. Suddenly an idea hit him. “Wait … I just remembered something.”
“It better be good. If our star walks on the first day because of a fish, we might as well just pack our bags and go back to the jungle.” Chase twisted his face in absolute confusion. “I mean, salmon? For breakfast?”
“Okay, listen.” Keith kept his voice down. “Yesterday I was talking with a few of the locals and a guy comes up. Tells me he runs the best restaurant in town and that he’s always wanted to be in a movie. He said he’d treat the cast to steak and lobster if I’d get him or his restaurant in a few scenes. I didn’t think about him until now.”
“If he has lobster, he’s bound to have salmon.” A disbelieving smile worked its way up Chase’s face. “This might work …”