Take Four Page 7

  “Exactly.” Andi looked down for a long moment. “Bailey, I’m sorry. You were a friend to me, and I…I took you for granted. I rebelled against everything good and right and true. Even Rachel and you.”

  Rachel Baugher had been Andi’s best friend from high school, a girl who had been killed in a tragic car accident just after graduating. Bailey figured losing Rachel was part of why Andi had rebelled in the first place, but that hadn’t been the time to talk about it, and Andi hadn’t brought Rachel up again in their past several Tuesdays together.

  She took the drinks from her front console, shut her car door behind her and hurried up Andi’s walkway. Her friend’s mother answered the door, her eyes deep with gratitude. “Hello, Bailey.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Ellison.” Bailey stepped inside. The early afternoon temperature was in the high sixties, too warm for a coat. But still, there was a chill in the air that made Bailey grateful for her hot drink.

  “Thank you for coming by. Andi looks so forward to this.” She pointed to the back bedroom. “She’s home from class, in her room.”

  This was the usual routine. Andi was determined to finish the semester with strong grades in each of her five classes, but sometimes when she got home she was more tired than usual. She’d stretch out on her bed and nap for half an hour until Bailey got there.

  She tiptoed down the hall, a drink in each hand, and peeked her head into Andi’s room. Sunshine flooded the room, but Andi’s eyes were closed. “You awake, or should I go?”

  “Don’t go.” Andi stretched and slowly sat up. “I can sleep later.” She smiled at Bailey and patted the spot next to her on the bed.

  “Here.” Bailey handed her friend the cold drink.

  “You don’t have to do that, buy me a drink all the time.” Andi took the green tea frappuccino. “But thanks. It means a lot.”

  “It’s no big deal.” She held out her paper cup and tapped it against the plastic one in Andi’s hands. “Here’s to another Tuesday.”

  “Because God keeps getting me through.”

  “Exactly.” Bailey kicked off her shoes and sat at the end of the bed.

  For a moment, they sipped their drinks and neither of them said anything. Something about Andi’s attitude felt a little off. She studied Bailey for half a second. “Cute jeans.” Andi’s compliment sounded laced with something less than sincere. Not that she was bitter, or even resentful. Just a little jealous, maybe, like Andi was realizing her situation more now. Maybe because she was showing. Even still, she smiled, maybe trying to lighten the moment again, but it fell short of her eyes. “Are they new?”

  Bailey nodded. “Anthropologie. “Bought them yesterday.” She tried to find the right smile in response. “After January you have to get some. They’re super comfortable.” Again, the silence between them was more awkward than usual. Bailey shifted, restless. “Right?”

  “I don’t know.” Andi’s eyes looked distant. She was quiet or awhile again. “Do you ever think about it? You and I are in such different places now.” She lowered her drink. “I’m not thinking about jeans.”

  The comment stung, and Bailey considered defending herself. She wasn’t trying to be flip. After all, it was Andi who had brought up the jeans. “Sorry.” Bailey sipped her coffee. Sometimes it was hard being with Andi. She was right…they were in different places now. “I didn’t mean to frustrate you.”

  Andi looked out the window and shrugged one shoulder. “I know.” She sighed. “It’s not you. I have a lot on my mind.” She looked at Bailey, and again there was something sad in her eyes. “I have the ultrasound pictures.”

  Bailey felt guilty for taking Andi’s attitude personally. Of course she wasn’t thinking about jeans. “Can I see them?”

  Andi reached for a folder on her bedside table. “You won’t believe how clear they are.” Her voice sounded lighter. “It’s like there was a window into my stomach or something.”

  When they had talked last night, Andi mentioned that the ultrasound made her pregnancy so much more real. From what Bailey could tell, her friend was doubting her decision to give the baby up. Bailey took the folder, opened it, and felt her eyes grow wide. “Wow…” She looked at Andi. “It’s like a photograph. I was eight when Ricky was born, and I remember seeing my mom’s ultrasound pictures.” She looked at the first photo again, a picture of the baby’s face. “But they weren’t like this.” Even with a quick glance there was no denying that the baby was Andi’s. “He looks just like you.”

  “My mom says he looks like my baby pictures.” Her tone was soft, more maternal than before. “And like my three brothers who died before they were born.”

  Bailey stared at the photo, at the clarity of the lines and definition of his face, and she understood why Andi would be struggling now. The baby had to feel so much more real with pictures like this. Then knowing the child you were carrying looked so much like you—how would that feel? Bailey sorted through the other photos and handed the folder back to Andi. “So you’re thinking about keeping him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Andi set the folder down and pulled one knee up to her chest. “I guess it’s not that, so much as I can’t imagine giving him away. One day soon he’ll be born and instead of a picture there he’ll be. A tiny little boy who looks just like me. They’ll place him in my arms, and I’ll feel this crazy connection.” Her voice faded but she didn’t look away. “How am I supposed to let him go after that?”

  Bailey had no answers. The waters Andi was navigating were far too unknown for her to offer any real opinion. “Do your parents know how you feel?”

  “I think they’d like me to keep him.” Andi tilted her head, pensive. “They haven’t said that exactly, but you know…my mom was with me at the ultrasound. We were both crying.” Andi put her hand on her stomach. “Just thinking about having to say goodbye to him.”

  “What about the adoptive family?” Bailey kept her questions kind and unrushed. She didn’t want to push Andi, especially when she was clearly hurting. “Do they know about you yet?”

  “I’ve told the agency about my choice, but we haven’t arranged a meeting yet. I haven’t signed anything. The family’s supposed to find out soon.”

  “Hmmm.” Bailey’s heart ached for her friend. She took a few swallows of her latte. “There are no easy answers.”

  They talked awhile about the physical changes Andi was going through, how wild it was to feel a baby moving inside her and what it was like to know God was knitting him together a little more every day. And they talked about the classes they were taking. Andi wanted to go into social work or public speaking, so she could use her story to help girls realize the value of staying abstinent.

  “I have a feeling I’ll finish up in Los Angeles somewhere.” Andi hadn’t mentioned that before now. She took a long sip from her drink. “My parents talk about moving there after this movie. I think it’d be good. A change of scenery. Whether I give up the baby or not.”

  Their conversation lasted another half hour, and it was time for Bailey to go.

  “You have that screen test today, right?” Andi stood and hugged Bailey, but the struggle was back in her voice. “My dad mentioned it this morning.”

  “I do.” They shared a look, one tinged by the regret that on a day like this Andi should’ve been going to the screen test too. “It’s probably an extra part, but still…”

  “I got the feeling it might be more.” Andi bit her lip, and for a long moment she seemed to wrestle with herself, fighting the jealousy or regret. Whatever she was dealing with. But finally she grinned, and the look in her eyes lightened for the first time that morning. She hugged Bailey once more. “You go get ’em, Bailey Flanigan. I’ll pray for you.”

  “Thanks.” Bailey still felt the bittersweet reality of this time between them, the different directions their lives were headed. She made a silly face as she stepped toward the bedroom door. “And I’ll pray for you. About your decision.”

  “Thanks.” Andi’s smile f
aded. “If only God would text me what He wants me to do.”

  “Yeah,” Bailey angled her head, trying to imagine being in Andi’s situation. “I wish it were that easy.”

  On her way out, Bailey thanked Andi’s mom and drove home to drop off her books, change clothes, and grab something to eat. She was in her room getting ready when Cody called. “I finished class early, so I had to call.” His voice still made her knees weak. “I’m praying for you.”

  “Thanks.” She sat slowly on the edge of her mattress and for a minute she told him about Andi. “It was weird, like we were strangers, almost.”

  “She has a lot on her mind.”

  “That’s what I told myself.” She still felt a little guilty about the earlier conversation, even if she couldn’t figure out exactly why. “I guess it’s bound to be awkward once in a while.”

  They talked a few more minutes about his classes and how he was excited about graduating. He’d increased his class-load the last few semesters and now he was slated to finish his degree in education a year from January. After that he would go for his teaching credential so he could coach and teach like her dad had always done. Cody was about to start his first full season as assistant coach for Clear Creek High, and he loved every minute. Already he had confided that he could see himself coaching football forever.

  “I miss you,” Bailey wished she could see him, but they were both too busy today. “Have a great practice. I’ll be thinking of you.”

  “Miss you, too. Call me when you know anything.” His tone was warm, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

  A quick fifteen minutes passed, and Bailey was sitting breathless in the passenger seat of her mother’s Suburban, headed to the production office where Andi’s dad and Dayne Matthews would be waiting for her.

  “Are you nervous?” Her mom was planning to stay with her if possible.

  “So much.” Bailey laughed. She thought about the audition in New York and how great the disappointment had been. But then she sat straighter in the car and shook off the memory. This was a new day, a different moment. She would shine for God, no matter what the outcome. But just as quickly the doubts crept back. “What if God doesn’t want me to perform?” She turned to her mom. “Maybe He wants me to do something else. Be a nurse or something.”

  Her mom smiled and touched Bailey’s arm. “Sweetheart, rejection is part of this business. You might try a hundred times before the door opens.” She paused. “That doesn’t mean it’s not God’s will.”

  “True.” Bailey knew that, of course. She’d heard it from her professors and from Katy Hart Matthews and so many others. But she didn’t see herself knocking a hundred times. At some point she would want to get married and raise a family, and performing would only be a dream she’d had as a younger girl.

  But today the dream was very much alive, the possibility still very real. She kept that in mind as they reached the office for Jeremiah Productions and her mom parked the car. Before they went in, her mom held her hand and prayed for her, that God would shine through her acting and she would rely on His strength to do her best in the coming hour.

  They entered the building, and found a woman sitting at a desk. “You’re here to read for Dayne and Keith?”

  Bailey summoned her courage. “Yes, ma’am. My name’s Bailey Flanigan.” She turned to her mom. “Is it okay if my mom waits for me?”

  “Definitely.” She nodded to a row of chairs against the wall. “It shouldn’t take too long. Half an hour, maybe.” The woman looked over a list, and when she found Bailey’s name she smiled and checked it off. Then she handed Bailey a clipboard with a few sheets of paperwork to fill out. “We’ll need your agent’s information as well. On the last page.”

  “Agent?” Bailey took hold of the clipboard and blinked. She looked at her mom and then back at the woman behind the desk. “I don’t have an agent.”

  “Really?” The woman frowned at the list of names in front of her. “You’re reading for a lead. Most of you have agents at this level.”

  A lead? Bailey’s heart fluttered wildly in her chest. “There must be a mistake…” She stared at the woman’s clipboard, trying to see if her name could possibly be there. “No one said anything about a lead.”

  “Hmmm…Bailey Flanigan?” The woman found her name again. “That’s you, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bailey felt dizzy. She didn’t dare look at her mother or she might scream from the thrill working its way through her. A lead? Could this really be happening?

  The woman smiled again. “According to the producers, you’re here to read for a lead.”

  Bailey almost dropped the clipboard. Instead she remembered to smile and give a quick nod. “Okay, thank you. I’ll fill out the form, but yeah, no agent. Is that okay?”

  “I’m pretty sure.” The woman shrugged. “I guess you can talk to the producers about it. They’ll be ready for you in a few minutes.” She directed them to the chairs.

  Once they were there, and when the woman left her desk and disappeared down a hallway, Bailey grabbed hold of her mother’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

  “A lead part!” Her mom kept her voice to a whisper. “No one told us.”

  “I know. Now I’m freaking out.” She stood, walked to the door and back again, shaking out her arms and exhaling in short bursts. “A lead part? Seriously, Mom? That has to be a mistake, right?”

  “Bailey,” her mom laughed quietly. “Get a grip, sweetheart. Sit down and fill out the paperwork.”

  “Okay, okay.” Bailey squealed, but she did as she was told. But she could barely draw a full breath, barely remember her address. She was reading for a lead part? Was this really happening? And was this why God had shut the door on her Broadway dreams the first time around? Another thought hit her. What if the woman at the desk was wrong, what if she had Bailey confused with someone else?

  Dear God, if this is real, give me the ability. I can’t do something this big, not without your help…please, God, be with me.

  I am with you always, Daughter…Do not be afraid or terrified, for I will go with you.

  The truth echoed through her and brought a sense of peace and certainty. God wouldn’t take her into a situation where He wouldn’t also provide. He’d walked with her through the Broadway audition, but clearly that hadn’t been His plan for her. At least not then. So maybe this was where He wanted her to be. She filled out the forms, handed them back to the woman, and in a blur of confusion and quiet prayer, Dayne Matthews stepped into the waiting area and grinned at them. “Hey, guys…come on back.”

  “Me, too?” Her mom looked surprised.

  “Sure.” Dayne’s smile lit the room. It was easy to see how he’d been America’s top leading man for so many years. “You won’t get in the way.”

  Both Bailey and her mother stood, and Dayne led them down a hallway to a boxy room. Andi’s father and a middle-aged woman were sitting at a long table, with photos and notes spread out before them. They stood when they saw Bailey and her mom enter the room. “Hi…thanks for coming.”

  “Thanks for having me.” Bailey wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. She shook Keith Ellison’s hand and did the same with Dayne.

  Mr. Ellison explained the woman with them was Eleanor Ainsworth, casting director for Unlocked. He went on to list a few of Ms. Ainsworth’s recent films—all of them huge box office hits. “We’re glad you’re here,” she told Bailey, with a polite nod.

  Bailey thanked her and then she turned to Mr. Ellison again. “I saw Andi today. She’s doing well.”

  “She is. Thanks, Bailey.” Mr. Ellison’s smile was genuine. “Your friendship is an answer to all our prayers. Especially now.”

  Bailey wondered if the casting director was a Christian. If she wasn’t, she didn’t seem bothered by Mr. Ellison’s mention of prayer. Bailey’s mom discretely took a chair in the corner of the room, out of the way. Bailey noticed a camera set up and aimed toward the empty half of the room. She gulpe
d, fighting off her anxiety.

  Dayne handed her a script. “Turn to page forty-five, will you, Bailey?”

  “Sure.” She did as she was asked. With a quick glance, she could easily see a lengthy monologue from a character named Ella. Bailey had read the book Unlocked and loved it. She knew immediately Ella was the music student who helps Holden Harris, a boy locked in his own world of autism since he was three years old. The role was indeed a lead and one of the most pivotal in the story.

  “Take a minute and read Ella’s monologue to yourself.” Dayne sat on the edge of the long table. “Then we’d like to film you reading it. I’ll play the drama instructor, so you’ll have someone to focus on.”

  Bailey felt her head start to spin. She lowered the script and looked from Dayne to Mr. Ellison. “I…I thought I was reading for an extra role.”

  Andi’s dad laughed and rubbed his temples. Then he exchanged a look with Dayne. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “I thought you did.” Dayne shot a funny look toward Bailey. “Sorry about that.” He shrugged. “I guess you know now. We’re looking at about a hundred newer faces, fresher girls who could pull off the role of Ella. We’re auditioning ten girls from the university drama department, and Keith and I both wanted to include you in this round.”

  “Oh.” Again her head hurt from the craziness of it all. A hundred girls? All with acting experience? She had no right being nervous then. Nothing could possibly come from those odds. “So…how many have you seen?”

  “We’ve already seen ninety or so girls, screened them in LA.” Ms. Ainsworth kept matter-of-fact about this part, not letting on whether they felt they’d found their Ella or not. “Since we’re filming here, we wanted to look at local girls too. We’re doing that today and tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Bailey felt faint. Suddenly something occurred to her. Andi would be reading for the part if she wasn’t pregnant. No wonder she hadn’t been herself today. She stared at the script. Focus, Bailey…you have to focus.