Take Four

by Karen Kingsbury

  “He was mad? Seriously?”

  “More than that.” He smiled, more so he wouldn’t get too emotional. Talking about this took him to a place as foreign as the lake spread out before him. He sucked in a quick breath through his nose, and looked away until he was sure his voice was steady. Then he turned to Bailey again. “He asked me if I was gay.” Brandon watched the shock play out on her face. His eyes stung, but he cleared his throat hard, refusing to give in to the tears. “He said theater was for wusses, weak girly guys. He told me God was against people who became actors.”

  “He did not!” Bailey’s voice was barely audible over the breeze off the lake. “Brandon, that’s awful.”

  “Yeah. It was.” He looked down at the damp sand at their feet. But suddenly he wasn’t on the shore of a beautiful lake with the most amazing girl he’d ever met. He was sitting across from his dad in their family living room, his father’s words exploding through him, shredding his heart and destroying him all over again. He could smell the chili cooking in the kitchen and see his mother watching with furtive glances from her place near the stove.

  Again Bailey seemed to know what he was thinking. “What about your mom? Was she home?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, hard so he wouldn’t get sucked back into that scene a moment longer than he needed to be. “She didn’t say anything. Nothing.” He looked at Bailey again. “She looked…embarrassed. Like she couldn’t contradict him, couldn’t…couldn’t stand up for me.”

  Bailey put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I…can’t imagine.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I gave up on God.” His tone was bitter now, acid and unforgiveness. “Then forget it. Forget all of it.” His anger was building, clawing its way quickly to the surface. “Better to party every night than judge everyone. Like…like my dad.”

  “Brandon…”

  “No.” He jerked away from her touch. “Never mind.” He didn’t want her sympathy, didn’t want it from anyone. Why had he told her this anyway? Why had he gone and ruined a perfectly good day, probably a perfectly good friendship? No one could understand this sort of detail about him, and now she’d never see him the same way. He stood and walked hard and fast toward the water. When he reached it he stopped and walked a few feet one way then back again the other direction. If he could have jumped in and swum across the lake, he would’ve.

  At first she waited, letting him have his space. But then she came to him slowly, quietly until she was at his side. He didn’t want a spew of kind words and her insistence that everything would be okay, that the accusation was a long time ago and certainly his father hadn’t meant it. Didn’t want her words about God being good and kind. He didn’t want that, and she didn’t offer it. Instead she put her arms around his waist and hugged him from the side, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  After a while, he put his arms around her too, and they stood that way for a long time. Finally, Brandon led her back to the log and they both sat down again. “Sorry.” He was in control again. Embarrassed, but no longer angry. “It’s just…I haven’t talked about that before.” He looked up just enough to meet her eyes. “Not to anyone.”

  She didn’t ask what happened next, but his story came unbidden, the way Brandon figured it needed to come after so many years, after reading in the Bible about being new and finding redemption. From a God who his father had used against him.

  “A week later, after my dad had told me the same thing every day, I ran away.”

  “Where to?” Bailey’s eyes were the kindest he’d ever seen.

  “Four blocks away. To my uncle’s house.” Brandon told her how his uncle Joe was nothing like his dad. And as he told the story, Brandon was there again, cold and sweaty, pounding on his uncle’s door, a bag of clothes in his arms. “uncle Joe was the roughneck in the family, the guy always getting into scrapes with the law and embarrassing the family. My family…they were the Christians. And they thought I was gay.” His laugh was filled with sorrow, with a pain that still lived in a part of him that would always be that fourteen-year-old boy.

  “Did you stay?” Bailey’s eyes were damp. “At your uncle Joe’s?”

  “I did.” Even now Brandon relished the freedom that move had given him. No one would call him gay just because he liked to act. His parents threw a fit, and tried several times to force him to come home. He remembered once hearing his mother’s shrill cry from their bedroom over the phone lines. “You did this, Martin, you drove our son away!”

  But in the light of day, she never said a word on his behalf, never once stood up to Martin Paul. After a few months of bringing him back and Brandon running away again, his parents stopped trying. “They didn’t really want me.” He filled his lungs, trying to rid himself of the hurt. “If I couldn’t play football, if I was going to act in the school play…then good riddance.” He frowned, staring at the wet sand. “Let’s just say I never went to church again. I couldn’t imagine a whole building full of people like my dad.” His voice was angry again. “I still can’t.”

  In time, his parents signed over custody to his uncle Joe. Living with his uncle’s family, Brandon was free to do whatever he pleased. They had no qualms about him being in a play or drinking with his friends—or doing anything else he felt like doing. Eventually, Brandon moved with his uncle’s family an hour away. He kept acting and, even after he grew taller and stronger, he never went out for the football team again. “See,” he slid his foot close to hers and gave it a slight tap. “Now you know why I wish I could play. The whole Remember the Titans thing.”

  “I was thinking about that.” She had a way of listening with her whole body.

  The lack of judgment, the acceptance he could feel from her allowed him to finish his story. “I moved to Los Angeles after graduation and got an agent. Sort of like Dayne, things went great from the beginning. NTM cast me in their new series, and the whole success thing was sort of overnight.”

  “America’s heartthrob.” She smiled at him, careful that her eyes never left his. “What happened…with your parents?”

  “After I was on the cover of People the first time, my dad wrote me a letter. Told me he’d been wrong. He was sorry. Asked for my contact information so we could talk.”

  Bailey waited, letting him tell the story at his own pace.

  “I figured it was easy for him to be genuine when I’d already made it,” Brandon still felt disgusted by his dad’s effort. “He quoted a bunch of Scripture in the letter, talking about how wrong he’d been.” Brandon shrugged. “A few months later I talked to my mom on the phone. She started crying, told me she was sorry too. They’d been wrong…yada, yada, yada…” Brandon furrowed his brow, working once more to keep from letting his feelings spill into his eyes. “She told me God wanted His people to forgive.”

  She’d been listening so intently that at that part she sat up straighter and raised her brow, shock working its way across her expression. “Wow…like you’d be interested in God after that.” She clasped her hands in front of her and stared out at the lake, almost as if she were praying. Or maybe she simply had no idea what else to say.

  “That was three years ago.” He could feel himself pulling out of the memory, finding his center again, remembering who he was. He was Brandon Paul, Hollywood’s favorite movie star, voted best-looking young celebrity by People. His parents couldn’t hurt him now. He breathed in slowly, working his way back to the moment. “Two things came of that time.”

  She turned to him, and in her face he didn’t see pity, but rather a strength and support. Her smile told him she understood. “You don’t go to Sunday school…”

  “That too.” He chuckled and stared out at the lake. The sun was high overhead, splashing light across the surface and warming his shoulders. “But, yeah…I swore I’d never have anything to do with the two things that made up my life back then—Christianity,” he turned to her, “and my parents.”

  Bailey nodded slowly. “Which is why you didn’t
want to think about Unlocked as a Christian film.”

  “Right.” He’d come this far with his heart. No reason to stop now. “I thought about pulling out. Right up until I flew out here for the screen test with you.” He smiled, and the heaviness from earlier lifted. “You changed my mind—whether you know it or not.”

  “Come on.” She laughed, waiting, knowing there was more to the story.

  “Seriously. Before I came here, I looked you up on Facebook.”

  “I remember…you friend-requested me.”

  He grinned and again the mood between them felt light and magical. “It was more than that.” He put his arm around her shoulders, careful once more to make the moment feel like two friends sharing an afternoon, nothing that might threaten her. “I saw something in your eyes, something I was missing.” He was confused by his own feelings. “I’m still mad at God…because how could He make my dad say those things?”

  “Brandon…” Bailey’s voice was more gentle than the sound of the lake against the shore. “You don’t think that.”

  “I did.” He searched her eyes. “But with you…I’m beginning to think I was wrong. I don’t know.” He angled his head so he could memorize her, the deep blue eyes that shone with goodness and truth and a love he had never really believed in. As much as Brandon wanted to hold onto this moment and not inadvertently push her away, he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from going further. He brought his free hand up along her cheek and gently kissed her.

  At first he thought she might return his kiss, because she didn’t pull away or complain or walk off angry. But she carefully removed his arm from her shoulders and took both his hands in hers. Slightly breathless, she searched his eyes. “Brandon…no.” She wasn’t mad, but the passion and intensity in her voice took him by surprise. She stared at him, as if she were willing him to understand her the way she’d understood him. “Don’t you see?”

  “I see that I want you,” his voice was deep, thick with desire. He ran his thumbs over the tops of her hands. “Is that wrong?”

  She gave a quick shake of her head. “God brought you here because of your soul…not your senses.” She angled her face, never breaking eye contact. “You don’t want me…you want the peace I have. You want my faith.”

  “Not when I’m this close to you.” He hung his head, because if he looked into her eyes another moment he’d kiss her again. “All I know…all I feel is that I’ve never met anyone like you, Bailey. God…if there is a God…must’ve brought me here because of you.” He allowed himself to look up again.

  “There is a God. He brought you here to be around me, yes. But not just me. He has you here with Katy and Dayne, Keith and Lisa…” she smiled. “Even Danielle, the caterer. All because He’s calling you back to Himself.” She was talking quieter than before, but she implored him with her tone. “God loves you, Brandon. He gave you the ability to act.” She laughed, a quick laugh full of a childlike awe. “And you’re a tremendously talented actor.” She paused. “Can you imagine how this world would be changed if someone like you really lived for God?” She shook her head, dizzy-like. “There’d be no way to measure the number of people you could touch.”

  Brandon hadn’t thought about that, but the responsibility seemed overwhelming. “That’s a lot to ask…from anyone.”

  “The responsibility is there whether you want it or not.” She still seemed to be practically bursting in her attempt to make him grasp what she was saying. “You influence people one way or another. That’s how celebrity works. Especially now.”

  He still wanted to kiss her, but the impulse of the moment had passed. “If God’s really calling me…if you’re right, then can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.” She squeezed his hands, her smile shining through her eyes.

  “Ask Him to show me, okay? Because right now…I still don’t see it.”

  Bailey agreed, and they both decided it was time to get back. They walked together to her car and, on the ride to Dayne and Katy’s house, they laughed about some of the scenes they’d filmed today. Before she dropped him off, he thanked her. “What I told you out there…that’s just for you, okay?”

  “I know.” She put her hand on his. “You can trust me.”

  He smiled and then he jumped out and jogged toward the front door without looking back. Katy and Dayne and Sophie were gone for the evening, which was good. He went out back and sat on the deck, staring at the lake once more. He was grateful he’d seen the beach, grateful for his time with Bailey. But he was still angry about God. If God loved him, why had He allowed his father to be so mean? The man’s rejection stayed with him every day, no matter how well he pretended to be over it. And something occurred to him as he sat in the afternoon sunshine thinking about all he’d told Bailey and the truth about his past. If God wanted to reach him, He’d have to do more than reach the famous Brandon Paul.

  He’d have to reach the kid inside him, the fourteen-year-old who was still sitting on a sofa being mocked and cut to pieces by a father who thought he was gay.

  Twenty-Four

  BAILEY TREASURED HER DAY AT THE lake with Brandon, and afterwards she saw him as more than her costar or someone to pray for. He was her friend. Often in the final weeks of the shoot she remembered their time on the shores of Lake Monroe, his painful honesty and the horrible truth about his past. She cared not only for the guy he was now, but for the boy inside him who had never moved past that terrible time.

  She tried to imagine a father inflicting that sort of emotional pain on his son, just because he didn’t play sports. Her own dad was a professional football coach, but not once had he ever pushed the boys to play. Their dad was no more proud of Connor now than back when he was acting on a CKT stage. It killed her to imagine Connor hearing a comment like the one Brandon’s dad had given him. Often when she watched Brandon delivering yet another stunning performance as Holden Harris, she was reminded of his talk with her at the lake that day. She wondered if some of the inspiration for the character of Holden hadn’t come from his own days feeling locked in the prison of rejection. Either way, his honesty would stay with her.

  And of course she often remembered his kiss.

  For a few fleeting seconds, she wanted him to kiss her, wanted to involve herself in the moment as if nothing else mattered in all the world. But the truth shouted at her before she had time to enjoy herself. Thankfully, God had given her the words so he would understand the truth. His involvement in Unlocked had nothing to do with her and everything to do with God.

  The way God was calling him.

  But even so, as the weeks ran by in a blur, and as Brandon kept reading his new Bible with Katy and Dayne, little seemed to come from it. Brandon was kind and funny, and the two of them were rarely apart on set. He had found a close friend in her, and Bailey was certain that much would remain long after the movie wrapped. But he hadn’t talked again about God, not since their time at the lake.

  On the last day of filming—two days before Thanksgiving—the producers gathered the cast and crew in the same classroom, the one where they’d had that first meeting, which felt like just a few minutes ago. Brandon and Bailey entered the room together, and he gave her a teasing smile. “Can I sit by you?”

  “You better.” She slipped her arm around his waist, and they walked to the same seats they’d had that first day. “I can’t believe it’s the last day.”

  “Don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He whispered close to her as they sat down. “We’ll have reshoots and the premiere of The Last Letter— here in Bloomington, I believe.”

  “It is. The day after Christmas.” She laughed. “You mean you’re coming?”

  “Hard to believe, but yes…I made the list. Like I said…” his look was intended to melt her heart and it did—though in a different way than he probably meant. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Bailey was glad for a reason to see Brandon again. She hadn’t fallen in love with him over the last six
weeks, but he’d carved out a place in her heart. She had a feeling no one knew him as well as she did, and she realized the privilege came with great responsibility. It was why she still prayed constantly for him.

  “Okay,” Mr. Ellison looked weary, but he beamed with joy all the same. They’d climbed a mountain together and here, today, they’d reached the top. “Everyone take your seats.”

  The cast and crew were friends now, but their respect for Keith Ellison drew the room to an instant silence. People sat down and Bailey and Brandon, along with the others, turned their attention to the front of the room. Rumor had it they’d be treated to something special today, and Bailey could hardly wait. She was exhausted emotionally from all she’d given to the film, and she knew the others felt the same way. Giddy to have made it this far, sad to see the process end, and certain they could be proud of their work here in Bloomington.

  Andi’s dad wore his usual—jeans and a buttoned down shirt, nothing too flashy. “Six weeks ago I told you about my vision for Unlocked. I asked you to look around the room at what I believed was a very special cast and crew.” He smiled, and his eyes shone with emotion. “I was right.” He paced along the front of the classroom, making eye contact with each cast member, each person on crew. “I told you that over these weeks you would give performances you didn’t know you could give, that you would witness chemistry on film that would take your breath away.”

  Chills ran down Bailey’s arms.

  Mr. Ellison stopped and faced them. “I was right about that.” He grinned at Dayne. “My co-producer and I believed…we believed with everything inside us, that once in a lifetime does a chance like this come along, a chance to be part of a work that might define you.” He nodded and looked at Brandon, pride emanating from his whole face. “I believe we were right about that, too.” He stepped to the side and pointed to a cameraman at the back of the room. “Take a look at this.”