When the spots disappeared, he sat up slowly and took hold of the magazine. It was dated ten days ago. What’s going on? He read the headline again, but it felt like a cruel joke. The story had to be about Luke, but Dayne had talked to him since coming out of the coma. He’d also spent a week with him and he’d been great. And that was before he learned the truth about their connection. So what could the rag possibly have found?
He rested for a moment and then flipped the pages until he saw an angry photo of Luke. There it was for the whole world to see. “Luke Baxter wants nothing to do with his famous brother.” The caption sliced at Dayne’s heart and made it hard to breathe. Katy must’ve known about this, so why hadn’t she said anything?
Against every bit of his will, he read the rest of the story, the paragraph about his birth family, and Luke’s quotes and the dirt they’d found on each of his siblings. He felt sick and weak. The news detonated inside his heart like a roadside bomb. Why? All the time and energy and effort between all of us . . . and now what? It was all for nothing?
His heart pounded and he felt faint again. He concentrated on the classical music playing over the ceiling speakers and the hum of an aquarium a few feet away so he wouldn’t black out. As he did, a Bible verse whispered to his breaking heart. “In all things God works for the good of those who love him.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Not this, Lord. This can never work to Your good.
Yes, son. All things . . . I have promised this.
Dayne’s breath caught in his throat. Only rarely had he ever heard such a clear response from God, but this was one of those times. He opened his eyes. Okay, steady. Breathe out. He obeyed his own orders, and after a few out breaths the faint feeling lifted.
He needed to think rationally about the story. Katy hadn’t mentioned it and neither had John. That had to mean something. If the tabloid story had devastated the Baxters, someone would’ve told him. And what about Luke? He looked at the magazine spread again and his mind raced. The paparazzi were insidious, bent on getting their story at any cost. He was proof of that. So maybe they’d badgered Luke into saying something, and maybe they’d misquoted him.
Katy and John had probably avoided saying anything so Dayne wouldn’t get even angrier at the tabs. Anger wouldn’t help him find the strength he needed to tackle rehabilitation. Katy had reminded him of that every time he brought up the accident, every time he talked about how he hoped the photographers who caused the crash would serve jail time.
He breathed out again, and the slightest bit of peace took root inside him. But just as quickly it died off. Everything was different now. No matter how the press had twisted the story, the picture didn’t lie. Luke looked like a different person from the guy Dayne had spent time with in Los Angeles. He was angry, no question. Maybe the anger was directed at the photographer, but what about his quotes? Blood didn’t make him a Baxter?
After all this time, after all the ways he’d longed for a family, Dayne had known best all along. Hadn’t he warned John and Ashley? The Baxters were private people. Living in the glare of the spotlight, having their photos splashed across magazines in grocery checkouts all over the nation would be more than they could handle. And here was proof.
“In all things God works for the good”?
Maybe God meant that this find, this magazine, was proof that Dayne shouldn’t move to Bloomington after all. Maybe the good would be that all of them would be spared further damage if he canceled his plans completely. No Thanksgiving together, no house on the lake. And what about Katy? She didn’t want to live in Malibu. He could feel his heart crumbling, feel it landing in a heap near his knees.
Before he could make himself stand and finish the journey to his room, he heard footsteps in the hall coming closer, closer. Then Katy rounded the corner, her face tight with concern. She came to a sudden stop. “Dayne . . .” Her gaze fell to the magazine in his hands.
In that moment he didn’t have to ask whether the Baxters were suffering from their newfound visibility or whether the quotes from Luke were true.
The answers were right there in Katy’s eyes.
Katy was worried about Dayne. It was two days after he found the tabloids and read the remarks from Luke, and he seemed to have lost his will to move forward. He had barely made an effort in his workouts, and his therapist warned him that if he didn’t start working harder, he’d lose the week he’d gained.
Dayne was sitting up in bed, finishing his dinner. “Luke’s right.”
“About what?” Katy had never seen him so shut down, so uncommunicative. She had begun to wonder if even their engagement might be in jeopardy.
“We’re not brothers. Blood doesn’t make me a Baxter.” He pushed his food table and struggled to lift his legs onto the bed. With painfully small movements, he slid back against the headboard. He was out of breath when he spoke again. “I need to call and cancel Thanksgiving.” He flexed the muscles in his jaw, his anger controlled but palpable. “This is my home, here in Southern California.”
Katy was seized with panic. This was his home? Meaning he no longer saw a future for the two of them? And wasn’t his marriage proposal based on the fact that he was willing to move to Bloomington, that he wouldn’t expose her to the insane life of having their comings and goings constantly followed by paparazzi?
Her mind and heart raced at breakneck speeds, but before she opened her mouth, she prayed. The Lord had brought Dayne from the brink of death, but why? So they could have another painful good-bye? a final ending? She stared at Dayne, trembling. What’s happening to him? How come it’s all falling apart?
And in the quiet of the room, with therapists moving up and down the hallway outside, God spoke to her more clearly than He ever had in her life.
Wait on Me, My daughter. Be still, and know that I am God.
The response filled her senses and brought a swift dose of hope and peace and strength. Be still and wait? Was that what God wanted from her? Was she supposed to step aside and let the Lord handle Dayne while she did nothing more than stand her ground, helping Dayne, encouraging him, waiting for the hurt to wear off?
She had the deep and certain sense that the answer was yes.
The next day Dayne’s determination tripled. He attacked every task he was given, and not until later did he explain himself. “I’m an actor. Maybe it’s time I stop fighting the tabloids and embrace that fact.” He was squeezing a soft ball, working on his grip. “If I don’t find my way back, I’ll lose even that.”
Understanding came over Katy like a cold rain. He was no longer fighting for his place in the Baxter family. He was running from it. If he focused all his energy on acting and embracing the celebrity life, maybe he could numb the pain in his heart, find a way to live with it. Again she had no idea where she fit into his thinking.
But she’d heard God last night, and until she felt Him leading her another way, she would be still and wait. She would love Dayne even when he was unlovable, stand by him even when he didn’t need her help, and believe that somehow God would give them forever even when their future seemed less likely all the time.
Bailey had finished her Algebra II homework and was researching internment camps after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Her history teacher was very big on Pearl Harbor. Her dad and the boys were at the park with the dog, and her mom was sitting next to her at one of the other computers, talking to Ashley on the phone.
“I can find out what type of windows our builder used for this house,” her mom said.
Bailey knew what they were talking about. Katy and Dayne’s house and how much work needed to be done. Bailey added another three facts about the internment camps to her index cards. There. Now she was done.
She switched screens and called up MySpace.com. The beginning of the school year had been so busy, she hadn’t had time to look through MySpace in more than a month.
This morning’s rehearsal for Cinderella had been hard. Bailey was one of the wicked stepsisters, a p
art that stretched her acting skills and gave her a chance to be funny onstage. Connor was a coachman, and overall the rehearsals were going smoothly.
But it wasn’t the same without Katy Hart.
Bailey missed her so much—way more than she thought she would. Katy wasn’t only the greatest director ever—she was like an older sister. Even with all the activity in the Flanigan home, it somehow felt empty without Katy coming and going.
The Web site came up, and Bailey clicked through the photos on several of her friends’ pages. Some of them were so dumb. Girls who had been sweet and innocent in middle school were posting pictures of themselves drinking at parties and making out with their boyfriends. It was disgusting really.
She clicked back out of them and went to Tanner’s page. He didn’t care about MySpace much, so he hardly ever posted comments or pictures. But every now and then she liked to look at it anyway. In the profile section people had a choice to say whether they were in a relationship or not. It made her smile when she looked at that part of Tanner’s page and saw the words in a relationship.
Bryan Smythe—the player from CKT—was still making attempts at getting her attention. He said all the right things, but every time she talked to her friends or her parents about him, she had the same feeling. That she was working too hard to convince herself that he was a good guy when in fact he was probably nothing more than a smooth talker. Bryan wasn’t in Cinderella. He was on his school’s golf team, and that took up much of his time. But he showed up after practice now and then. Always he had something sweet to say. “I couldn’t fall asleep last night, Bailey. Every time I closed my eyes you were there.” Or “The stars are nothing next to your eyes, Bailey.”
Most of the time Bailey was glad she had Tanner. He was busy with football, and three weeks into the season he’d won the starting job. He was the team star, no doubt, and she was proud of him. More than that, she loved the way he gave her space. No jealousies or pressures from Tanner Williams.
Next to her, the conversation sounded more emotional. “Ashley, we’ll think of something.” Her mother’s voice was calm, the way it always was when someone was upset. The way it was when Bailey was upset. She loved that about her mother—the fact that she could look at things rationally even when the world felt like it was falling apart.
She turned to her mom and whispered, “Is this about the house?”
Her mother nodded and covered the receiver. “Ashley doesn’t think she’ll have enough people to help her. She still wants it done by Thanksgiving.”
An idea hit Bailey, and she jumped to her feet. “I know!”
“Shhh.” Her mother’s eyes grew wide. She motioned for Bailey to sit back down.
When she did, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “It’s perfect! We’ll have the CKT kids help out! We could get dozens of kids and parents over there, and the work would happen super fast.”
Her mother smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. Then she stood and took the phone into the next room. “So Bailey has an idea. . . .” The sound of the conversation faded.
Bailey turned back to Tanner’s MySpace. There were always comments from girls, the sleazy types who would drop a line the way fishermen dropped a hook full of bait. Rarely did Tanner ever answer them, though. Once in a while Bailey looked, and every time she came away satisfied that Tanner was the real deal. A great friend first and a loyal boyfriend second.
She looked through his comments, each one accompanied by the MySpace picture of the person who left it. They were all pretty harmless. Hey, Tanner, great game Friday. You rock! and Northlake is shaking in their boots, buddy. Way to keep the mojo going. There were a few comments from girls, reiterating what a great job he was doing leading the team.
Halfway down there was a comment from a girl Bailey didn’t recognize. Last night was amazing, Tanner Williams. And, yes, I’ll hang out with you again sometime soon! Let’s make it a plan. lol. Remember this? Wait for it . . . wait for it . . . ha-ha. You make me laugh. ttyl.
Bailey felt a shiver run down her back. What in the world was the girl talking about? The football team had played away last night, and Bailey had been at CKT rehearsal. So who was the girl, and how had she managed to hang out with Tanner? He was supposed to be hanging out at Alex’s house. Bailey leaned forward. Her stomach hurt. The girl’s ID was Maybe Tonight, and she had the cheap photo to match. Bailey stared at her picture and clicked it.
Instantly she was on the girl’s MySpace. Whoever she was, she had pictures of herself all over her page. In a few of them she was wearing only a bikini. Bailey scanned her profile. Her real name was nowhere in sight, but she was eighteen and lived north of Bloomington, which meant she didn’t attend Clear Creek High.
“Okay, so what about you and Tanner?” Bailey asked. She felt like she did when she was called on to answer a pop-quiz question in front of the class. Clammy and cold and scared to death. Tanner wouldn’t have done anything behind her back, would he? Not Tanner.
She scrolled down the page until she saw Tanner’s picture. The date was yesterday, and his comment said, I didn’t know you knew Alex! And, ya, about the waiting. Sometimes that makes things more interesting. You never know.
“What?” Bailey was on her feet again. She turned and paced into the kitchen and then back. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and fired off a text to Tanner. So what’d you do last night?
She hit Send just as her mother came back from the family room and hung up the phone. “Poor Ashley; she has so much work to do.”
Bailey stared at her mother and pointed to the computer screen. “Tanner hung out with some other girl last night. Read it.”
Immediately her mother’s expression changed. Ashley’s concerns were important, but Bailey’s took precedence.
Bailey clicked to the comment on Tanner’s MySpace, then back to the one on the girl’s.
“Hmm.” Her mother looked at Bailey. “Doesn’t look real good.”
This was another thing Bailey loved about her mother. Both her parents liked Tanner, but they always told Bailey not to get too attached. She was too young for a serious relationship. But here—when it felt like her world was falling in around her—Bailey could count on her mom to take things seriously. She didn’t roll her eyes and make some snappy remark about it being for the best or cluck her tongue against the roof of her mouth and mention something about having told her so.
Instead she did the one thing Bailey wanted her to do. She held out her arms. “Come here, honey.”
Bailey fell into the hug and willed herself not to cry. She was too mad anyway. How dare Tanner go to Alex’s and hang out with some other girl. She didn’t even want to imagine what Tanner must’ve told her to wait for. Him? His kiss? Or something even more serious?
Her phone beeped three times. She pulled back and flipped it open. Tanner’s message was short. I hung out with the guys at Alex’s house. You had practice, right?
Her anger became a rage. She clenched her teeth and let out a furious cry. “How dare he lie to me?” She looked at her mother and shook her head. “All this time I trusted him.” Hurt took the edge in her tone. “All this time.”
The calm was there in her mother’s face. “There might be more to the story, Bailey. You should call him.”
“I should, but I won’t.” She was too mad. If he couldn’t tell her the truth, then forget him. She could spend her junior year without a boyfriend. She opened her phone and punched a series of buttons as fast and hard as she could. Hey, I’ve been thinking . . . maybe we should take some time away from each other. You know, see other people.
“What are you—?”
She hit Send before her mother finished her sentence. Bailey snapped the phone shut and looked up. “There. I broke up with him.”
“Bailey!” Her mother couldn’t have looked more astonished if Bailey had sprouted a tail. “You can’t break up with a boy over text messages.”
“Well, I just did.” She was still mad, but tears wer
e filling her eyes anyway. “He lied to me, Mom. All the guys at Alex’s know he was talking to some—” she gestured toward the computer screen—“some girl. And then he goes and lies to me.”
“Okay, so you call him up and ask him over. You take a walk and talk about things.” She ran her hand down Bailey’s arm. “Tanner’s been a very good friend. He deserves more than that.”
“And I deserve more than that.” She jerked her thumb at the screen. Her tone was sounding a little rude. She made her voice get quieter. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s okay.” Her mother put her hands on Bailey’s shoulders. “Listen, sweetie. You have to call Tanner. We’re friends with his family, and his mother would never understand why I let you break up with him over texting.”
Before Bailey could try to explain herself again, her phone beeped. A part of her didn’t want to open it. Her mother was right about Tanner. He deserved a phone call at least. She stared at her phone. She never should’ve checked Tanner’s MySpace, never should’ve sent that last text message.
Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the phone. His message read, Uh . . . okay. So is that it? We’re finished?
She blinked back her tears. For a few seconds she considered calling him and telling him everything her mother had suggested. That he should come over and the two of them should talk. But pride consumed her, filled her heart and soul, and before she could stop herself she tapped at the buttons again. I guess I just don’t want a boyfriend right now.
Her mother tilted her head. “Bailey . . . call him.”
“I will later.” She brushed her fingers beneath her eyes. Everything had been going so good until now. That’s why she hated MySpace. It always made a mess of everything.
Once more her phone beeped. She flipped it open and read his response three times. Okay then . . . wish I knew what I did. Guess I’ll see you around.
Wait . . . what had she done? Had she really just broken up with Tanner Williams? In five minutes flat? The guy she’d had a crush on since fourth grade, the one her friends thought would be her boyfriend all through high school? Was it that easy to rip a friendship in half?
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