Mrs. Coleman didn’t say anything, but she looked at Bailey for a long time as if to say everything she couldn’t put into words. That she was sorry for letting Cody down, and sorry the situation had come between Bailey and him. Tears spilled onto her cheeks and she nodded. Then in a broken whisper she said, “Thank you, Bailey. I won’t forget this.”
Bailey hadn’t realized she was crying until they were in the sterile hallway being led back to the waiting room. She wiped at her cheeks. “Three years?” She sniffed. “She’s the only family Cody has.”
“That’s not true.” Bailey’s mom stopped and hugged her close. “He has us.” She kissed Bailey’s head. “He’ll always have us.”
CODY WAITED UNTIL BAILEY AND HER MOTHER drove out of sight before leaving his car and heading into the prison. Seeing Bailey again, watching her through the falling snow, had nearly killed him. He loved her more than ever before, more than he loved anyone in all his life. It was the single reason why he had to let her go. He didn’t want this for her. She didn’t belong in a prison parking lot, not for any reason. The heartache of his mother’s drug addiction didn’t need to affect her. No, the life he lived now that his mother was back in prison was one he would live alone. Without Bailey or any of the Flanigans. She was better than what he could give her, even if she couldn’t see that now.
Dear God…get her out of my heart…please, let me forget I ever saw her.
Love never ends, my son…there is faith, hope, and love…but the greatest of these is love.
Cody nodded, grateful for the Voice that rang through his soul. The message was true. He wouldn’t forget, Bailey. He couldn’t. He blinked back fresh tears and drew in a full breath, trying to get a grip as he headed across town to his new apartment near the Indianapolis campus of Indiana university. The idea of Bailey’s friendship tempted him, but he couldn’t allow that either. Yes, their paths might cross again the way they’d done today, but not by his doing. The words that had come over him did so again. Faith, hope, and love… Yes, love was definitely the greatest. It was why he had to set her free, once and for all. Because he loved Bailey Flanigan that much.
The way he would always love her.
Thirty
ANDI WAS FEELING CONTRACTIONS, AND KEITH couldn’t stop pacing. He wore a path from the living room—where Lisa and Andi were keeping track of the pains—to the den at the other side of the house and back again. Over and over and over. It wasn’t just that his only child was at the beginning of labor, or that the baby set to come into the world was his first grandchild. That would’ve been enough to put him on edge this Sunday afternoon.
It was another reality that kept him pacing, the fact that in a matter of hours or days they would bid this child goodbye. Keith stopped in the den and ran his fingers through his hair. His feelings were all over the map. It was impossible not to be excited for Andi, for the baby about to be born. But he could practically feel his heart breaking in half over the loss that would follow immediately after.
He walked to the desk and stared at his computer. The screen saver showed Lisa and Andi and him, when Andi was three. Her smile lit up the room, even from a photograph. Innocent eyes shining with hope and possibility. Other grandpas would have that again, experience that moment once more through the eyes of their firstborn grandchild. But not him.
And this baby was a boy.
Keith slowly sat down and gripped the chair arms. He would’ve taught him how to love baseball and how to catch a spiral pass. They would’ve joined Scouts together, and he might’ve taught him how to build a pinewood derby car—the way he’d done when he was a boy. They would have shared a lifetime of adventures together.
But none of them would ever come to be.
“Another one,” Lisa shouted from the other room. “They’re about ten minutes apart!”
“Okay.” He responded loud enough for them to hear. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn’t ready? That he wanted a day or a year with this child before Andi could give him away? He hung his head and closed his eyes. These were crazy thoughts, absolutely crazy.
Andi had prayed about her decision, and she was completely at peace. The counselors at the adoption agency had explained that some birthmothers choose not to hold their babies, never wanting to bond with a baby they couldn’t raise. Others took their time, knowing the birth experience would be their only chance to hold their children.
After weeks of praying about her options, Andi had chosen the latter. She would hold her baby, take her time saying goodbye. Keith and Lisa would be there with her, and they would have the same opportunity. In fact, when the time came, Andi had asked Keith to hold the baby while he and Lisa took him down the hospital hallway to the waiting area and handed him over to the Baxters.
Something Keith could only do in God’s strength.
In time, this season of sadness would pass. They were set to move to Los Angeles in March, in time for Andi to start the spring quarter at Pepperdine university. She wanted a degree in film, something she’d been thinking about for weeks now. She no longer wanted to be in front of the camera, but behind it, where she could work with Keith and Dayne. She wanted to learn her way from the ground up and one day be an equal partner in making movies that could impact the culture. She was passionate about it, and convinced beyond any doubt that giving her baby up for adoption was the right choice.
Keith opened his eyes and breathed in deep. Of course it was the right choice. The baby was going to be a Baxter. A heaviness touched in around Keith’s heart. He didn’t question the rightness of his daughter’s decision. But no matter how right, there would be loss over the next few days. A loss he would carry with him all the days of his life.
He moved the mouse and found his way to AOL. They were nine days into the New Year and Brandon Paul had been the talk of Tinseltown. To that end, Keith could only stand back in awe. The media had caught wind of Brandon’s baptism, of his decision to give his life to Christ. They would spend the rest of his career waiting for him to fall, but for now they were simply taken by the story. Brandon being led to a deeper faith because of his costar, the daughter of a famous NFL coach. One tabloid said: Mainstream America Miracle for Brandon Paul.
He’d given a few interviews, and now Keith checked again to see the impact Brandon was having on current pop culture. The top Twitter trending topics of the moment were #BrandonPaul and #Christianity, along with a verse Brandon had mentioned from Romans and #NIVBible—the version Brandon had quoted from during his interviews. Millions of people were on Twitter, and this was what they were talking about. Brandon and the Bible.
Chills ran down Keith’s arms and he felt his eyes well up. This was the miracle they’d prayed about, and it was playing out before his eyes. And that wasn’t the only area in which God was working. Already critics who’d looked at some of the daily footage from the Unlocked shoot were saying this might be one of those rare times when the movie lived up to the book. Brandon Paul’s defining moment.
He skipped to the Hollywood People website, and a story about Unlocked graced the home page. “This was the must-read book of the past three years, and the movie—based on what we’ve seen—will be the must-see movie for the next decade. That’s a tremendous accomplishment for any production team.”
Keith clicked a few links and found what he was looking for. Brandon Paul and NIV Bible were the two most googled phrases over the past week. Sometimes Keith would hear news like that or read reviews like the one on Hollywood People’s website and he’d blink a few times. Just in case he was dreaming. He leaned back in his chair and considered all God had done, all He had brought them through. Chase’s role in the beginning and his move home to be with his family. Dayne’s involvement, which raised Jeremiah Productions to another level. And of course Brandon’s decision to take the lead role in Unlocked. There were times along the way when Keith wondered if he was selling out by casting Brandon, times when he thought the whole idea of changing the culture with the power
of film was just some futile attempt to bring himself into a position of power and fame.
But in the end God had done what Keith and Dayne could never do. He’d used the faith of a precious college girl to lead the nation’s top celebrity into a saving relationship with Jesus Christ. Yes, they would have to pray diligently for Brandon, and along the way he was bound to make mistakes. But churches would be filled at a different level today because of Brandon’s decision.
“Another!” Lisa yelled out. “They’re getting closer.”
“Should we go?” He was already out of his seat.
“No…not yet. Let’s see about the next one.”
“Okay.” Keith settled back down in his seat. He moved to another website and read a report on the dollars earned and number of seats filled by their first movie, The Last Letter. The film was still doing very well in theaters across the country, touching hearts, changing lives, and giving confidence to the entire movie industry that this was a production company to reckon with, one any top actor would want to come alongside.
Amazing, God…you’re absolutely amazing.
The success of The Last Letter was another miracle, another piece he couldn’t claim as his own. But he knew this much: God had placed a vision in his heart, a driving desire to make films with a message of faith and hope. He had begged God to let him see this desire become a tangible success, and now that’s exactly where things were with Jeremiah Productions.
In the mission field that was Hollywood, he and Dayne were merely tools in God’s hands. By themselves they couldn’t change culture with the power of film. They couldn’t bring God back in vogue or fill churches because of a movie. But they could do their part, keep their fire for America and her often hopeless hurting people, and they could stay true to the mission they’d been called to.
God would do the rest. The way He’d done it in the past nine days.
Someone walked into the room, and Keith turned to see Andi and Lisa. His wife had her arm around their daughter’s shoulders. They both wore their winter coats, and Lisa held an overnight bag in her free hand. “Daddy,” Andi smiled at him, her eyes wide with anticipation and a little fear. “It’s time.”
And like that, Keith was on his feet, grabbing the car keys and ushering the two women in his life out the garage door and into the car. His daughter was about to have a baby, and he…he was about to take part in the miracle of life.
For now he couldn’t let himself go even a minute beyond that.
THE CONTRACTIONS WERE ONE ON TOP of the other now, and Andi couldn’t think about anything but pushing. Her mom stood beside her, squeezing her hand and wiping her forehead with a cool washcloth. Her dad was in and out.
“It’s too hard for him to watch you like this.” Her mom explained the situation in the minute or so between contractions. “He can’t stand seeing you in pain.”
But the pain wasn’t as bad as Andi had thought. It was nothing to the pain of losing her innocence or the pain of compromising everything she believed in. This pain almost felt good, cathartic because it signaled the end of this journey.
“They’re here right,” Andi was breathless, her body drenched in sweat. “Luke and Reagan?”
Her mother smiled and gently touched the side of her face. “The whole Baxter family is here, sweetheart. The nurses had to find them their own waiting room.”
Joy washed over her, filling her with a peace that this was right. As hard as the next hours might be, it was the most right thing she’d ever done. This baby would have the best family ever—a mom and a dad who would love him and each other, aunts and uncles and cousins all right here in Bloomington. And he’d have wonderful grandparents also.
“How’s…how’s Dad?” Andi turned just enough so she could see her mother’s eyes. “This is hard for him. I know…I see it in his face.”
“It is.” Her mother’s voice was warm with compassion. “He knows it’s the right decision.” Tears welled in her eyes. “But yes, it’s difficult. This is our first grandchild.”
Andi felt a wave of sorrow rise inside her. She squeezed her mother’s hand again and rode out another contraction. This one long and more painful than the others. As it passed she laid motionless, spent for half a minute. Then she looked at her mother. “There will be more grandchildren. God will see to it…I know He will.”
The doctor breezed in and checked on her progress. “I’d say you’re just about ready, Andi…” he looked at her. “You feel like pushing?”
“Yes. A million times yes.” She uttered an exhausted sort of laugh and again her mom pressed the cool cloth to her face. “More than anything in the world.”
“Okay, then…I think on the next contraction you can bring your legs up.”
For the last few months she’d been instructed on what to do at this point of the delivery. So when the next contraction began, she pulled up her legs. “Okay…okay, now?”
“Almost.” The doctor was in position at the end of the table, guiding her every move. “All right…now, Andi! Push now!”
She did so with all her might, with everything she had.
Her mom was still by her side, still holding her hand. “You’re doing great honey…keep pushing.”
“I can see the head. He has a lot of hair.” The doctor grinned at them. “Keep it up, Andi. You can do it.”
The contraction felt like it lasted forever, but finally…finally it let up and she could breathe again. She felt hot and breathless. Her heart beat so hard she could barely concentrate. She blew out several times, pushing the air from her lungs so she could take a full breath. “How…was that?”
“Perfect.” The doctor was working between her legs. “A couple more pushes and he’ll be out.”
Andi was starting to feel like she should push again, but the doctor held up his hand. “Wait for the contraction.”
She nodded, squeezing her mom’s fingers. For a few seconds she looked at her mom, and she saw tears sliding down her cheeks. Happy tears…tears of awe over the miracle taking place. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, baby girl. I’m so proud of you.”
The words found their way to a forever place in Andi’s heart. Her mother was proud of her. Six months ago she was sure she’d never hear those words again, but now…now God had brought beauty from ashes—just like He promised.
“Here it c—” the contraction didn’t give any more warning than that. Andi waited for the doctor’s okay, and she pushed again. They’d given her a local anesthetic, so there was no pain, but this time she could actually feel the baby moving out of her body. It was the most unbelievable sensation, and it made her excited for the next time—however many years from now—when she would go through this for a baby she would keep, a baby who would be her very own.
The contraction ended, but she had only a minute or so rest before the next one hit. “Keep pushing, Andi!” The doctor’s voice was more intense. “This should do it. Here he comes…here he is. One more little push.”
An emptiness came over her as the baby left her body completely, and after a few seconds her baby’s cry filled the room. “It’s a boy,” the doctor grinned at them as he stood and handed the baby to the nurse. “Just like you thought.”
Andi couldn’t see him very well, because the nurse was clearing his mouth and wiping his face and body. But from what she could see he was beautiful. Tears filled her eyes and she let out a quiet cry. “Mom…can you see him? Someone should get Dad.”
But at that moment, her dad walked in the room. “I thought I heard a—”
“Dad…he’s here. He was just born.”
“Andi did great.” Her mom soothed the washcloth over her head again. “She delivered him in three pushes.”
“Yes, it was textbook.” The doctor was still working on her. “I wish all births were like this.”
They cleaned him up, and he stopped crying. As the nurse weighed and measured him, the sound coming from him was a sporadic complaint. Andi giggled a l
ittle through her silent repressed sobs. “He’s a fighter. I can hear it in his voice.”
“Like his mother.” Andi’s dad stood next to her mother, up against her bed. He stroked his daughter’s hair and smiled at her. “I’ll never forget you holding court with a dozen Indonesian women, telling them about Jesus at the ripe old age of ten.”
“Yes.” She wiped at her tears, her smile stretched across her face. “He’ll have that from me.”
The nurse wrapped a white and blue blanket around the baby and carried him over. “He’s tall. Seven pounds, eight ounces and twenty-two inches.” She handed him carefully to Andi. “I’d say he looks like his mama.”
Andi couldn’t stop the tears, but she couldn’t stop smiling either. She took her newborn son into her arms and cradled him close to her chest. The feeling was warm and full, and in that moment it completed her. She stared into his deep blue eyes, his full lips and beautiful face. “Hi, little boy,” she whispered to him, using her shoulder to catch her tears before they could fall on him.
Only then did she realize her parents were both crying too. They leaned close, looking at him, in awe of him. “He’s perfect, Andi. He looks just like…” a sob made it too hard for her to finish.
Her dad cleared his throat. “He looks like you did…when you were born.”
“You had the same satiny dark hair.” Her mom reached out and touched the baby’s head. “It didn’t turn blonde until you were six months old.”
Andi leaned down and kissed the baby’s head. “Did you hear what your grandma said?” She breathed the words softly against his face. “You’re perfect, little one. So perfect.”
Her dad took a few pictures, nothing too invasive. Just a shot of her cradling the infant in her arms and one of her kissing his cheek. He took another from a different angle, so that the baby’s face took up the entire picture. The minutes were slipping by, and Andi wanted her mom to have a turn to hold him, so she lifted him gently and passed him over. Only then, as she released him, did she get the first hint of the pain that was to come. He was her baby, her son. Her blood and the blood of her parents ran through him. Suddenly it seemed like the craziest idea, giving him up, and she wondered if she’d regret this decision all her life.
Take Four Page 32
