Take Four

by Karen Kingsbury

  Even if it took a lifetime to convince him.

  Twenty-Seven

  KEITH WAS GRATEFUL HE’D CHOSEN TO hold the premiere for The Last Letter there in Bloomington. Andi’s baby was due any time, and the last place he wanted to be the day after Christmas was two thousand miles away from home in LA. Instead, the premiere was taking place in half an hour at Kerasotes ShowPlace East 11—the nicest theater in town, not far from the university.

  Most of the cast from Unlocked had flown in today to be here. That way they could make the Indiana premiere and also be on hand for reshoots and any last-minute work on the film. Keith didn’t expect a lot of photographers and paparazzi, like with the Los Angeles Film Festival showing of The Last Letter. This would be more low key, which was fine with Keith. People in towns like Bloomington were the ones Keith figured would be most touched by the movie.

  Andi had chosen to stay home, and Keith and Lisa understood. If one photographer were to take her picture walking into the premiere alone and pregnant, and if the paparazzi were to do even a little research, the story would be all over the tabloids. Keith wasn’t afraid of what people would say about his daughter. She’d made a mistake, and now she was handling the consequences as well as she could. It was Andi he was worried about. She didn’t want to be the center of a media attack on Keith or Jeremiah Productions—not now or ever.

  Besides, Andi was tired and she’d seen the film a number of times. She’d kissed him and Lisa goodbye and assured them she was fine. She was planning to read the rest of Unlocked, and turn in early. Keith and Lisa were in the lobby of the theater, making sure tables were set up with commemorative thank-you cards for everyone who attended, and seeing to it that bags of popcorn were lined up, ready for their guests. Keith had given out a hundred tickets, and the rest had been offered to the public. The show had sold out a month ago, and now Keith could hardly wait for the minutes to pass.

  “We should go outside.” Lisa checked her watch, and then adjusted Keith’s suit coat. “You look very handsome, by the way.”

  “I look okay?” His heart raced, and he wondered what the scene was like at theaters across the country.

  “Perfect.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I’m so proud of you, Keith, of all you’ve accomplished. Your dreams about a mission field in moviemaking…they’re all coming true.”

  “Not yet.” He gave her a nervous smile. Moviegoers needed to show up this first weekend, or the movie could disappear in financial disaster. But there was no way to know for several days, so Keith forced himself to focus on the moment. “What time is it?”

  “We have twenty-five minutes.” She took his hand and they walked toward the front doors. The theater had set up a red carpet for their guests, and Keith and Lisa wanted to be outside to greet everyone as they came in. As they stepped outside, Lisa gasped softly. “Look at that!”

  A line of people stretched down the chilly sidewalk and around the building, all of them craning their necks, looking to see who was arriving, and hoping they’d be let inside soon. In the parking lot a line of SuVs had pulled up, and two theater attendants were clearly keeping them from stepping outside until Keith and Lisa were there. One of the attendants motioned to Keith to hurry. “Let’s do this!”

  Keith’s heart soared. He hurried to the edge of the red carpet, waving a couple times to the line of people. Was this really happening? Had this many people really turned out to see The Last Letter? Lisa grinned at him as they took their places. The first carload held the Flanigan family. A valet attendant took the car from Jim Flanigan, and the group moved onto the carpet—all of them clearly excited about the experience. They waited for a moment as Keith greeted them and thanked them for coming.

  “We wouldn’t miss it,” Jenny hugged Keith, then Lisa. “The world needs more films like this.”

  Bailey looked wore a dress that turned heads, long navy silk draped the length of her body, and the hem of a white cashmere coat swished a few inches above the ground. Her hair hung in dark curls, and her eyes glowed with a beauty that could only come from within. She was poised and at peace, comfortable in this world—because of her deep and abiding faith, no doubt. Keith hugged her, and Lisa whispered, “Before you know it, we’ll be at the premiere of your movie!”

  Only then did Keith notice half a dozen photographers gathered on either side of the carpet. They snapped hundreds of photos of Bailey and her family, Keith and Lisa, and then a buzz came over the staging area as Brandon Paul stepped out of the next car.

  Keith watched him, how he graciously waved to the people in line and then to the photographers before heading straight to Bailey Flanigan. No question the guy was infatuated with her, and Keith was grateful for Bailey’s resistance. As much as Brandon had changed for the better since he’d arrived on set to film Unlocked, Keith still would’ve hated to see him date Bailey Flanigan. Between the tabloid frenzy the two of them would create, and Brandon’s extensive worldliness, a relationship with him would sorely threaten her innocence. It was something Keith worried about at first—after he saw the intensity of Brandon’s pursuit.

  But he shouldn’t have doubted Bailey. She was strong in her faith, and she had the support of a great family. Instead of caving in to Brandon, she’d held her ground and he’d taken to doing a Bible study. Now, watching Brandon hug Bailey and walk alongside her, he could see again the young actor was smitten. But he could see something else too: a change in Brandon’s eyes. They needed to keep praying for him, that much Keith was sure about.

  With the cameraman snapping a constant stream of photos, the Flanigans and Brandon headed inside the theater, and a stream of Baxters began making their way down the carpet. Ashley and Landon and their oldest son, Cole; Ryan and Kari and their oldest, Jessie. Keith was glad they’d kept the little ones at home. The movie was appropriate for any age, but it wouldn’t keep the attention of a preschooler. Next came Luke and Reagan, Erin and Sam, and Peter and Brooke with a few older kids between them.

  Finally when Keith was sure his guests had been seated, they opened the carpet to the waiting public. In ten minutes the theater was packed, and attendants were carefully guarding Brandon and Dayne and Bailey. Already Keith had made an announcement that this was a special premiere for the producers’ family and friends. “Please don’t use this time to ask for autographs. Tonight let’s all just be an audience together.”

  The people in the seats might’ve been practically frantic over the idea of watching a movie with Brandon Paul—let alone Dayne Matthews—but they respected Keith’s wishes, and there was no mad rush for photos or autographs. Once the theater was seated, Keith thanked everyone for coming, and as the lights dimmed he took his seat between Lisa and Dayne. After a few seconds the movie began. Keith had watched it come to life from the very beginning—through the script phase and while they hired the right actors for every part. He’d been in the editing room as he and Chase Ryan brought the picture to life, and he’d traveled the country through six film festivals while it won a series of awards.

  In all, Keith couldn’t count how many times he’d seen the film, but none of them had made him feel the way he did right now—seated in a movie theater on the opening night of his first major motion picture. Somewhere in San Jose, Chase was doing the same thing and he wished just this once they could’ve been together again. Because this was their dream come true.

  But it was Dayne’s dream, also, and Keith believed with all his heart God had improved the strength of Jeremiah Productions when he brought Dayne aboard. Still, as the movie started, he was filled with nostalgia for all they’d been through, all that had led them to this place, this night. Throughout the film, Keith did what he’d learned to do at previews and festival showings of the movie. He didn’t listen to the dialogue on screen so much as he listened to the people around him. His heart swelled with hope when the audience laughed at all the right parts, and when they quietly sniffed and reached for tissues during the many poignant scenes throughout.


  The message of the film was clear by the final credits. A college kid thinks life is meant to be lived fast and frenzied, with a high budget and high-end tastes. until he reads the last letter written to him by his dying father. Only then does he understand that the real meaning of life is faith and family—things money can’t buy.

  Timing for the film couldn’t have better—debuting the movie the day after Christmas when buyer’s remorse was hitting many Americans square in the face. All the shopping and wrapping and gift-giving typically fell a little flat on December 26, when people stepped back and tried to assess what they’d done, and what was accomplished by the money spent. The Last Letter held an answer for those people, if they were paying attention. And by the sounds of the people around him, they were.

  When the movie was over, the audience rose for a standing ovation, many of them still drying their eyes. Then, just as quickly, they sat back down and began filling out their response cards—which they’d received at the door. Keith’s heart pounded inside him. All over America, the first showing of their movie was wrapping up. What reactions must be coming from people even at this minute, and how would the film be received? Most of all, had The Last Letter filled the seats? Lisa hugged him and whispered near his ear. “Stop worrying.” Her face beamed with joy. “This is your moment. Live in it!”

  She was right, and he busied himself around the room, thanking people for coming and accepting one round of praise after another. Strangers came up to him, and in broken words they told him they’d been changed, that they would never look at life the same way. Near the top of the theater, a group of people had formed a circle and they were praying—someone in the middle had her head bowed and she was weeping. A few spots down from where he was standing, a husband and wife held hands lost in an intense conversation intended for just the two of them. Was this what was happening across the nation? Scenes of redemption and healing filling theaters across America? Thank you, Jesus…I feel you here…this is your movie, your moment. Keith had not expected this, not for a minute. He thought he’d have to wait until the reviews hit—or at least until hours later when they were reading the response cards—before knowing what people thought of the movie, but he was wrong.

  The reaction was playing out before his eyes.

  BAILEY LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT THE MOVIE. Her part was small, but she was grateful to be a part of it all the same. She noticed the few times when Andi was in the background as an extra, and she wished things were different, that she hadn’t succumbed to Taz’s charm and that she could still have her innocence—the way she’d had it in the film. But God had His hand on Andi, and He would make beauty from the ashes of her life—same as He did for all of them.

  Including her.

  She smiled at Brandon as he winked at her from across the theater. He was talking to his fans, happy to oblige them with autographs now that the movie was over. But it was clear to her and probably everyone in the theater that he only had eyes for her. When they’d first sat down, Brandon had unabashedly taken the seat beside her. “Let ’em talk,” he had whispered.

  She had laughed, but only because she wasn’t worried. She’d kept her distance during the filming, and now the paparazzi had moved on to other targets. No one would think anything of them sitting next to each other here. Before the movie had started, he gave her a lost-in-love look. “You take my breath away, Bailey,” his voice was barely audible, but his intent was unmistakable. “See?” He grinned at her. “I’m still here.”

  “And you still make me laugh.” She patted his knee, and her expression softened. “Seriously, Brandon. I missed you. I’m glad you’re here.”

  She meant what she’d said. Brandon was fun and good looking and he brought enough energy into any moment to make her dizzy. But on this night—like every night since Thanksgiving—the ashes in her life came from a loss too great, too personal to talk about with anyone except her parents. The loss of Cody. In the end, she hadn’t called him or reached out to him the way she’d planned to. He’d asked for time, and she was giving it to him. But with every passing day she only missed him more. She’d come to believe something was terribly wrong with him, otherwise what possible reason was there for him to move to Indianapolis.

  Was it that Cheyenne girl? Bailey didn’t think so, and lately she wondered if maybe something were wrong with Cody’s mom. He hadn’t talked about his mother in their brief contact since that night months ago when he’d left after her mysterious message, and whenever Bailey had brought her up or asked how she was doing, he gave only a brief answer and quickly changed the subject. Even in their talk Thanksgiving night, he hadn’t mentioned her.

  As the message in the movie had played out, Bailey caught herself wiping away tears, because Christmas was over and she and Cody were apart. If she didn’t figure out a way to reach him, maybe they’d never find their way back together again. By the time the film ended, and Bailey and her family had bid goodbye to the producers and Brandon, Bailey had come up with a private plan, a way that might at least shed some light on what had gone wrong with Cody. After the New Year she would go by his mother’s house and find out for herself how the woman was doing. Maybe then she could start to find her way back to him, start to find what she was looking for. The same thing Andi wanted…what all God’s people wanted when life didn’t go the way it was supposed to go.

  Beauty from ashes.

  Twenty-Eight

  SINCE THE PREMIERE, BRANDON HAD KNOWN SOMETHING was changing inside him. And now, sitting on the back deck of Katy and Dayne’s house in the late afternoon of New Year’s Eve, Brandon couldn’t shake the memory of things he’d said and done last summer. The wild partying and crazy stuff with girls…the way he’d declared to anyone who would listen that he wasn’t a Christian, and he wouldn’t become one any time soon.

  Katy and Dayne were going to the Baxter’s soon, and they’d offered to take him. But Brandon didn’t want to go. He could’ve called for a car or rented one, but he didn’t want that either. He wanted peace—perfect peace. Something he hadn’t felt since he was fourteen years old. Images from his recent past circled him, laughing at him as the sun set over the lake. So what if he was the most famous movie star in the world? His parents might’ve handled their fears wrongly, and they might’ve been the worst possible examples of what Christians should act like…but the verse his mother had told him three years ago was dead on.

  What good was it for a man to gain the whole world and yet forfeit his soul?

  He could die in a plane crash on the way home from Bloomington in two days and then what? The fame and money, his looks and charm…all of it would amount to nothing. And where would he be? A shudder passed over him. People had a way of ruining God for those who really needed Him. But that wasn’t God’s fault. Maybe the truth was like Bailey had told him that day at the beach.

  Maybe the Lord had been calling him all along.

  “Brandon?” Dayne stuck his head out and gave him a funny look. “You okay? You’ve been out here a long time.”

  “Yeah,” he looked over his shoulder, pulling his windbreaker a little more tightly around his chest. “You leaving?”

  “Soon.” Dayne stepped outside and shrugged. “You sure you don’t want to go?”

  “No…I’m just thinking. Good thing to do on the last day of the year.”

  Dayne nodded, and a smile filled his eyes. “I like that.” He paused. “You wanna talk about anything? The Bible verses I showed you earlier?”

  “That’s okay.” He gave himself a light tap on the place just above his heart. “It’s in here, man. Can’t get away from it if I wanted to.”

  “Good.” A smile filled his face. “That’s what Katy and I’ve been praying for.”

  An idea hit Brandon, something he hadn’t thought about before. “Hey.” Brandon stood, leaning against the porch railing, facing Dayne. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Dayne hesitated near the sliding door. “Name it.”

&nbs
p; “Could you take me to Bailey’s house?”

  A ripple of laughter came from Dayne as he opened the door. “Be ready in five minutes.” He hesitated a moment longer. “And make sure she’s expecting you. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. We probably won’t be by to pick you up again until after one in the morning.”

  “True.” Brandon ran his tongue along his lower lip, suddenly nervous at the thought of surprising her. He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and tapped in her contact information. The phone was ringing seconds later, and Brandon paced the back deck, squinting at the lake through the barren trees, willing her to answer.

  “Hello?” She sounded surprised.

  Give me the words, God…I have to see her. Right now…before this feeling goes away. “Hey, Bailey…I’m not doing anything tonight, and I wondered if…if I could come over.”

  “Now?” She laughed on the other end, but it sounded friendly. “For how long?”

  Even the sound of her voice made him feel like a high school kid. “Like till one in the morning.”

  “Hmmm. We’re having an open house…there’ll be people here.” She wasn’t going to tell him no, he could hear that in her voice and already he could hardly wait to see her. “But you can come, sure. Maybe wear your disguise so you don’t cause a stampede or anything.”

  “If you wear that dress you wore for the premiere…you’re the only one who could cause a stampede. Let’s just say that for the record.”

  They both laughed, but then her tone changed. “No, really. You can come. Of course.”

  “Thanks.” He allowed the seriousness of his afternoon to seep into his voice. “I’ve been thinking a lot today, Bailey. I really need to talk to you.” He realized how that sounded, and he quickly corrected himself. “Not about us…about me.”