Leaving (21 page)

Cheyenne’s smile warmed her eyes this time. “I was Art’s motivation.” She angled her head and looked off. “The Army insisted I get counseling when he was killed, and that’s what we determined after ten sessions. I was Art’s motivation. He was fighting and surviving and living each day as carefully as he could so that he’d get home for me.” Her smile let up. “Having perfect motivation doesn’t guarantee a perfect ending. One of the first rules I learned at counseling.”

“No … it doesn’t.”

Slowly a curiosity seemed to come over Cheyenne, and with it a knowing. That if she followed this thought line the answers might not be what she wanted to hear. “You’re thinking about it … so tell me.” Her voice softened. “What was your motivation, Cody?”

For a long time he wasn’t sure he would answer her. At least not specifically. It was enough to explain that friends and family were what drove him to find a way back home — whatever the cost. But he liked Cheyenne … he did. And he couldn’t have a friendship with her, let alone whatever the future might hold, unless starting here he could be honest.

She was still waiting, searching his face, trying to see past the walls he so easily kept in place. He sighed and the sound added to the weight of the subject. “Her name is Bailey Flanigan. She’s a few years younger than me … lives with her family in Bloomington.”

Cody watched the walls go up in Cheyenne’s eyes. He was sorry … she’d been through enough today without this hurting her too. But they’d never actually established that they had a thing for each other. Anyway, he couldn’t turn back now, and her expression told him she didn’t want him to stop at this point in the story. “Bailey.” She said the name, watching Cody for his reaction. Nothing about Cheyenne’s tone or expression said that she was angry or jealous or frustrated. Rather, there was a knowing,
as if this was the missing piece she hadn’t quite understood about him. “Do you … still see her?”

“No.” He moved to the edge of the sofa and folded his hands. How could he explain Bailey in a single conversation? “It’s complicated. She … we parted ways in January.”

“January?” She must’ve figured out that they’d met before that. “I guess … I didn’t know you had a girlfriend back then?”

A sad laugh rattled Cody’s hurting heart. “She was never my girlfriend. Back in high school, I lived with her family. We became close … like best friends.”

“Meaning,” her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, “you didn’t mean to, but you fell in love with her.”

Cody managed the hint of a smile. “Something like that.”

Again they shared a quiet moment between them, this one more tense than before. Because Cheyenne was clearly surprised by the revelation of Bailey … surprised and maybe a little hurt. Which could only mean the obvious: She was starting to have feelings for Cody, the same way he was starting to have feelings for her. She sat up straighter, more composed than before. “So … what did the counselor suggest?”

“I guess just that maybe I need to figure out what’s happening with her … with the source of my motivation.”

“With Bailey.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory and it wasn’t a question. Again Chey seemed to erect walls that hadn’t been there before. Cody turned, facing her. “I was on my way to see her when you got here.”

This time Cheyenne looked awkward, startled even. She checked her watch and then stood, her smile polite. “I’m sorry, Cody. I didn’t mean to change your plans. I just … I live down the block and … I called Tara. She though it’d be okay.” She shook her head. “I should’ve called.”

He stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, Chey, don’t be sorry.” He willed her to see that she was wrong. That he
was grateful she’d come. “I want to be that kind of friend for you … where you can come by anytime and talk about anything.”

Cheyenne opened her mouth like she might say something, refute him in some way, but then he took half a step closer to her and pulled her into a hug, the sort of embrace the two of them had never shared together.

“I never … should’ve listened to Tara.” She was crying again, Cody could feel her body trembling against his. “She told me God saved you … for me.” She leaned back and met his eyes again. “Isn’t that crazy?” She dabbed at her eyes with one hand, and kept hold of him with the other. “Here you are in love with someone else.”

The realization of what she’d just said hit him with a force that made him hold tighter to her for fear that his trembling legs would give out. Did she really mean what it seemed like she meant? That she had listened to Tara and now she had feelings that strong for him? Did she believe Tara was right … that God had spared him so that Art’s fiancé wouldn’t be alone in life? “Tara said that?” His voice was low and shaky. “About us?”

“Yes.” She sniffed and shook her head quickly. “I didn’t want to believe it for the longest time.” Her face was so pretty—even with tear stains on her cheeks. Faith and love emanated from everything she said and did.

Cody was suddenly very aware of himself, his feelings, the way his body felt pressed against hers. Without meaning to, he brought his hand up and cradled the back of her head. Was this what he’d been fighting with Cheyenne all this time, feelings for a girl as rare as April snow? She wasn’t Bailey. But she was genuine and loving, and in some ways she was as broken as he was. “Chey, what are you saying?”

She shook her head. “I can’t … It doesn’t matter.” She started to push away, but he held her gently and almost immediately she gave up the fight. Then with her face inches from his she looked
in his eyes, searching for answers. “I can’t let myself fall for you, Cody Coleman … because you have her.”

He could kiss her. And in that single instant, kissing her was the one thing he was certain he wanted to do. She was so close he could feel her breath against his face, smell her perfume as it filled his senses. Yes, he could kiss her and maybe … finally … he could get Bailey Flanigan out of his system. Cheyenne understood war better than Bailey ever would, so what if Tara was right? What if God had spared him for the purpose of finding love and a lifetime with Cheyenne?

She seemed to know what he was thinking, because she didn’t say anything, but she stayed in his arms, their faces closer than before … still closer. Cody brought his other hand up, so that he held her face in his hands and the feelings from a few seconds ago doubled. He could kiss her and give in to the aching loneliness that had consumed him for so long, and maybe here … now, he would find something with Cheyenne that would be real and lasting. Something better than what he’d felt for …

Bailey.

Her name hit him like cold water, and he stepped back just enough to find his composure again. “Chey, …” He allowed two breaths … three. “I care about you. And maybe …” He saw that the walls around her heart were down again. “Maybe Tara is right. Maybe we’re supposed to be together and we’re only just now figuring that out.” He was still shaking with the desire that had come so quickly over him. But as quickly as it had come, his longing for Cheyenne had been replaced with a certainty about Bailey. He ran his hand softly along Cheyenne’s face and he backed up another step. “But … I have to figure things out first.”

No bitterness hid in her smile. Just an openhearted understanding wrapped in a thin veil of hurt. “You mean … you need to go find her. Your Bailey.”

“Yes.” He hugged her again, but the intensity from a minute
ago was gone. “I’m sorry about Kassie … I really am.” He paused, not sure what else to say. “Please tell her grandfather I’ll pray for his family.”

“I will.” This time Cheyenne stepped back. She picked her purse up off the floor and slid it over her shoulder. “Thanks, Cody. For listening.” They walked to his door together, and she turned to him one last time. “I’d like to be your friend … no matter what happens with her.”

“Yes.” He touched the side of her face once more. “I’d like that, too.” He was grateful for her attitude, glad she didn’t say that because of Bailey, she was never going to talk to him again.

As she left, as she drove away, Cody felt himself relax. He had dodged a big mistake there, and he could only thank God for watching out for him. If he would’ve kissed Cheyenne here … now, when there was no relationship between them … how could he look Bailey in the eyes and tell her how much he missed her? Tell her that he still cared and try to explain the reason he’d sent her away last January? No, if he kissed Cheyenne now he wouldn’t be headed to Bloomington today. He’d be struggling to stop and knowing that if this was how he could act after three months away from Bailey, then he must never involve her heart in his life again.

But he hadn’t kissed her.

And leaning against his door frame he looked up at the cloudy sky and thanked God. Thanked Him for sparing both of them the confusion that would come after kissing … and the way they could never go back to the pure friendship they’d had before.
You’re with me, God … I can feel Your presence … thank You, Father.

It didn’t occur to him until he was in his truck and already on the highway headed west that the truth was something slightly different. Yes, God had spared him from making a hasty decision, and maybe hurting himself and Cheyenne in the process. But Cody was still confused — no question about that. His confusion
baffled him and frightened him and made him doubt everything he had ever known to be true about himself and his feelings for Bailey Flanigan. Because even as he drove to find her, even as he imagined what he’d say and how she’d respond … even as he worked to keep his nerves calm when every mile brought him closer to her … even then only one scent filled his clothing and his senses.

Cinnamon and vanilla.

B
AILEY REACHED TO THE BACK OF HER LOWER DESK DRAWER,
amazed at the junk she’d managed to cram inside it. This Saturday she had set aside the whole morning and most of the afternoon to go through her things, figure out what needed to be tossed or given away, and what needed to make the trip with her to New York. Her dad was at practice with the Colts and her mom was getting the boys started with their homework, and then she’d be up to help.

She was playing Taylor Swift for the occasion … especially the song that spoke most to her right now. A song called “Never Grow Up.” The idea that someday soon she’d be in a different state, a new city … a new home without her family nearby was sometimes more than Bailey could take. She could give in to tears at any time if she thought about all she was going to miss.

But right now she didn’t have time to cry. She only had a week before she moved, and her room was a disaster. Not only that, but she still had no housing lined up. The uncertainties were enough to make her stay awake at night, and sometimes Bailey would lie in bed staring at the ceiling, tossing from one side to the other wondering if she were crazy to take the job.

Mornings were better. A breeze drifted through her open window. She would be fine. God would work out the housing, because He had opened this door, after all. If she needed to stay in a hotel at first, her parents had said she could do that. They’d help with the costs until Bailey was making a paycheck.

Dear Lord … how am I supposed to go through all this?

She blew at a wisp of her hair and doubled her efforts to clean her room. All around her were stacks of her belongings. Clothing she’d give away to the church’s Closet Essentials ministry, and old shoes that had long since seen their last day. One box held books she’d collected over the years and another held devotions and notebooks full of her thoughts on love and various Bible verses. She still wasn’t sure exactly what she was taking to New York City. She’d been on the phone with one of
Hairspray’s
assistant producers, and he’d assured her he was looking for housing. But until he found something, she wasn’t even sure how much space she’d have.

“You want to walk to work, right?” he’d asked her that morning. “No tunnels or subways?”

“If possible.” She and her mom had talked about what would be safest, and they’d decided that living with someone in the city made the most sense. Fewer places where she’d have to stand and wait by herself every day of the week. Bailey thanked the man for working on the situation.

“I do have something that might work,” he sounded lost in thought, and she could hear him turning pages of a document. “It looks like three of the dancers share a flat not far from the theater. They’re looking for a fourth person to share costs with.”

Bailey had ten questions immediately, but she only asked one. “Would I have my own bedroom?”

The man paused and a jaded laugh sounded across the phone line. “I don’t know anyone with their own bedroom. With those girls it’d be more like a cold spot on the floor. They don’t share their beds with broads,” he snickered. “If you know what I mean.”

She figured he meant the girls were straight. But his comment brought up another concern. If the girls shared their beds at all, the situation wasn’t okay with Bailey. Her mom and dad would rent her a place by herself and hire a bodyguard to get her to and
from work each night if that’s what it took. “Let’s forget about that setup,” Bailey kept her voice kind. The man meant well. “I really would like my own room. And I don’t have to live with dancers. It can be a family … a couple … that sort of thing.”

“Oh, right,” the man chuckled. “I forgot. You’re the girl with money and connections.”

The comment hit Bailey like a slap in the face. Especially in light of the comments from some of the dancers at the audition. Like she hadn’t really earned her place on the cast. She wasn’t sure what to say to the man, but he didn’t seem to notice her hesitation.

He began rattling off boroughs almost like he was talking to himself. “Anyway, I’ll keep looking.”

Now Bailey was surrounded by boxes and piles of her things, and still she didn’t know where she was going to live. Her entire family was praying about the situation … and her dad had taken the prayer to a new level last night. She smiled as his words ran again in her mind. “Father, we trust You with Bailey … and we believe You’re working out her housing situation even at this moment. But we ask for more than a safe place to live, Lord. We ask that You place Bailey in a home where she can learn from the people she’s living with … and they can learn from her.”

Bailey loved the idea, and even now her father’s words helped her dismiss the comment by the assistant producer about her money and connections. Instead she focused on the very real possibility that this next season in life might not only be about learning how to work on Broadway and how to live in the city, but learning from the people around her. She looked at the chaos that made up her room. Every picture, every scrap of paper … all of it meant something. And now it was time to sort through it and take what mattered most. As sad as today would be at times, in light of her dad’s prayer she was beyond thrilled for what lay ahead.

She pushed her hand to the back of the desk drawer again, and this time she pulled out a journal. An old one she must’ve hidden here years ago. Bailey squinted at the cover, trying to remember how long ago she’d written in this book. It was faded pink and white, with butterflies fluttering across the top corner. Across the middle it read, “For I know the plans I have for you … to give you a hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11.”

Bailey smiled and ran her thumb over the worn cover. The Scripture was her favorite, the one her parents had taught her when she was very young. The one she still clung to when life didn’t make sense. She opened the book and her eyes fell on a random entry somewhere near the middle.

Dear Lord … thank You so much for saving Cody. For getting his attention and helping him see how much he needs You. He’s changed, God. I can see it. When we talk, he’s so nice to me. And he told me not to ever settle for a guy like Bryan Smythe, because I’m worth so much more than how Bryan treats me.

I don’t know, God. When Cody talks to me like that I sometimes feel like I’m falling for him … like You saved him for me, Lord. I mean, I know I have to grow up a little and we have a lot of life ahead. But I catch him looking at me sometimes, and even though we’re friends, I think he cares for me more than that. Like I’m more than Coach Flanigan’s daughter.

Bailey’s heart melted as she read the words, as they filled her heart and reminded her of the way she’d felt back then. Cody had been so careful. He lived with them, and at first he had so many troubles she never would’ve considered that he might be the guy for her. He almost drank himself to death at one point, but God saved him.

She had written this journal entry some time after he was released from the hospital. Because almost immediately he had started alcohol awareness classes, and he and Bailey’s dad had begun a Bible study. She closed the journal and tried to remember
how she felt, so young and unsure of herself. Cody had been very aware, certain never to say or do anything that might be misconstrued as flirtatious or suggestive. He treated her with the utmost respect, and he always had.

So much so that when he joined the Army after high school and left for the war, Bailey wasn’t sure if he saw her as anything more than a friend. Then, when he returned—wounded after his escape from captivity — he kept his distance. Even told her she should date Tim Reed. How was she supposed to think he had feelings for her when that’s how he had acted?

Still … she believed. Every time they were together, any time they talked or shared a walk back from their Campus Crusade meetings, Bailey was certain she saw something more in his eyes. But it wasn’t until last Fourth of July that finally he opened up about how he felt. By then she’d broken up with Tim, and with all her heart she believed she and Cody would never be apart again.

But she won the part opposite Brandon Paul in
Unlocked,
and Cody became busy. Almost like he didn’t want to be part of her life if she were going to be in the limelight. His distance troubled her and angered her, and finally — when the movie wrapped and after Christmas break — Bailey went to Indianapolis and found out what had happened. His mother had been arrested for drug use again.

This was Cody’s constant demon, the reason he never thought he was good enough to date her. Because he was the son of a drug addict. It was the reason he had lived with them in the first place, because Cassie Coleman was in prison through most of Cody’s high school days.

Something else must’ve happened too. But Bailey had never figured it out. Because she had told him a dozen times that she didn’t care what decisions his mother made. They could visit her together, pray for her together. Cody loved her like no one ever would — Bailey believed that. So then why—the last time
they were together on her parents’ porch last November — did he imply things were over? That he had to move on?

She thumbed through the journal again, but no answers jumped out. Either way, she would save the book. Maybe someday alone in New York she could pull it out and read it again. Maybe it would help her understand how she had fallen so completely in love with him, and why she wasn’t able to let him go.

Downstairs the doorbell rang through the house, but Bailey didn’t get up. Probably Mrs. Johnson from next door or one of the neighborhood boys looking for a pick-up game of basketball. One of them would get it. She tucked the old journal safely in a box of must-keep items and dug through her desk drawer again.

Old math papers, history notes … a long lost science book. She pulled out everything left in the drawer and spread it on the floor in front of her. “Trash … trash … trash …” she muttered. It felt good to scrunch up the papers that had once taken so much time and toss them in the black garbage bag a few feet away. “Now Mr. Science book, you’re another story. I should probably have Connor take you back to school where someone else can have fun with you.”

“Hmmm. Looks like I’m just in time.”

She gasped.

It couldn’t be. But it sounded like the voice was … Bailey whipped around and, yes, there he was at the open bedroom door: Brandon Paul, looking like he did on the balcony overlooking the beach. He held his hands out, grinning in a way that made her realize how much she’d missed him. “Surprise!”

Suddenly she was on her feet rushing to him, the two of them coming together in a hug that almost knocked him down and left both of them laughing. “What in the world?” She felt the heat in her cheeks, but she didn’t care. He had really done it. He had flown to Indiana and now he was here, right in the middle of her messy room.

“I told you I’d come help.” His grin lit up his whole face as he held onto her, still hugging her. “Your mom said to tell you she’d be right up.” He kissed her cheek and then stepped back, surveying the room. “She said you needed all the help you can get, and wow …” He raised his brow at the piles of belongings strewn across the floor. “I guess she’s right.”

“She is.” Bailey let her shoulders sink as she studied the space around them. “It’s terrible in here.”

“What color’s the carpet, anyway?”

A hand towel lay across the edge of her bed and she grabbed it, flicking at him. “Stop.” She laughed at the situation, the hours she still had ahead of her. “It’s not always like this.”

“All right then,” he made an exaggerated move of rolling up his sleeves. “Where do I begin?”

The truth was, he couldn’t do much. She had to go through every item, since only she could decide whether it was something she should keep, move to New York, or get rid of. “You know … I’m not sure there’s anything you can really do.”

“I bet there is.” He looked around and scratched his head, still being overly dramatic about the job they needed to do. “How about I wait until your mom’s here. Maybe she’ll know some way we can work together. Teamwork, right? Isn’t that what your dad’s always telling his players?”

An idea hit, just as she was about to agree with him. “We could take the trash out.”

“Yes, perfect.” He nodded, his brow raised again. “That would at least give us a place to stand.”

They both laughed, and she pointed out the bigger of the two trash bags. Brandon picked up that one, and she took the other. As they headed downstairs, even while they were still laughing, a tenderness stirred within her. He had really done this, and at a time when he was finishing up a movie. Break or no break, it was
a tremendous thing to fly from LA to Indianapolis and drive to Bloomington — all so he could help her pack.

Downstairs they talked to her mom and brothers for a few minutes. Her mom and the boys had been in on the surprise. “Brandon wanted to make sure you’d be here.” Her mom was working with Justin on his algebra.

“So you’ve known for a few days or what?” Bailey shot laughing eyes at Brandon and then back at her mom. “Did he set the whole thing up last week?”

“Oh, no.” Her mom shared a look with the boys. “He set it up an hour ago. That’s the first we knew about it.”

Brandon shrugged, his look all innocent teasing. “It seemed like a good day to help pack.”

“I love that!” Ricky’s exuberance added to the joy of the moment. “Just get on a plane and go wherever you want.” He looked at their mother. “I want to be like that when I’m older.”

“Sure, buddy.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “Anytime you want to hop a plane to help someone clean their room, I’m all for it.”

Bailey led Brandon outside to the place on the side of the house where they kept the family’s trash cans. The connection they’d shared in Los Angeles was still there, still making her dizzy enough to wonder at what point she should start taking her feelings seriously. No matter how crazy his life might be.

He lifted his bag over his head, and the action showed off the definition in his shoulders. Brandon wasn’t quite six feet tall, but he was fit and his face was one girls around the whole world clamored to see. Bailey stayed close behind him, watching him, trying to take stock of her feelings.