Take Two (12 page)

His dramatic reaction received a loud bit of laughter from the audience. Bailey remained stoic, straight faced. She had to
work to keep herself from listening for Cody’s voice.

“Who are you?” Tim scowled at her, stood, and dusted himself off.

Bailey lifted her chin, proper and poised. “The ghost whose presence was foretold to you.”

Their exchange was brief and well rehearsed. They’d worked on stage together too long to be anything but professional in a
moment like this. She led Tim across the stage to where he could watch a scene from his childhood. After that, she ushered
in another moment from Scrooge’s past — the dance at Fezziweg’s where Scrooge first falls in love with Isabelle. Andi entered
the stage and there was almost a collective gasp at the vision she made. Truly she was stunning.

Andi danced with young Scrooge, and together they sang a perfect duet. Whatever anxiety Andi had felt about this scene, she
was in her element now.

After watching the dance come to an end, Tim reached out toward Isabelle, who of course could not see him. Tim’s expression,
the longing in his body language, told everyone in the theater he wanted nothing more than a chance to go back in time, back
to that moment with Isabelle. Just once more.

The way I feel about Cody
, Bailey thought. Again she forced herself back into the scene. But distraction came easily. Bailey’s part required her only
to stand alongside Tim and watch the past play out. She had only a handful of words left before the end of her scene. Was
Cody mesmerized by Andi the way the rest of the audience must be? She blinked.
Focus, Bailey … God, please help me focus.

Tim looked ready to cry as he watched young Scrooge bend on one knee, pull out an engagement ring, and hand it up to a thrilled
Isabelle. At the same time, Tim slowly took hold of that same ring, now on a chain around his neck.

“Come.” Bailey took his hand and led him to yet another spot on the stage. This time the scene was far sadder. The saddest
in the entire play. Young Scrooge was in the counting house as Andi walked up, dressed the same but with a bonnet and a shawl
over her shoulders.

“I’m leaving, Ebenezer.” She delivered her lines like a pro.

For the first few seconds, young Scrooge barely looked up, still counting. But when Andi insisted that where she was going
he would not see her anymore, he stopped. “Why? You were going to marry me.”

Tim took a step closer to the action, desperate to stop the younger version of himself. “Don’t let her leave … you fool!”

But Andi tossed the engagement ring onto his counting scale, and with a final few words, she left. Again Bailey caught a glimpse
of Tim as he reached out, longing for a way back to yesterday. Anyone would’ve believed he’d been in love with Andi, and that
he’d never gotten over her.

The scene ended with another song — a duet between the two Scrooges, one where Andi returned to the stage in a lyrical dance
intended to represent her moving farther from his life. Again she was graceful, a vision as she moved across the stage.

Bailey watched her, but she was thinking about Cody again.
He’s probably falling in love with her right now
, she told herself. What guy wouldn’t be? Her red cloak felt heavier, thicker than before. She must’ve looked like a set piece
compared to Andi. A coat rack, maybe.

Tim glanced back at her, as if she could do something to undo the passing of time. Then he turned to Andi once more and launched
into his final verse of the song. As it ended, as Andi danced offstage, Tim turned, anguished, to Bailey and took her hand.
“Spirit, remove me from this place. I can bear it no more.” The handhold was a plea, an urging from Scrooge, but Tim held
her fingers a little longer than they’d rehearsed. His eyes locked onto hers, and though no one from the audience — not even
the director — could’ve told he was breaking character in any way, he did. For a flicker in time, the longing in his eyes
was as intense as it had been when he stared at Isabelle. Only this was real, Bailey had no doubt. And it was aimed at her.

The incident was over almost as soon as it began, but it left Bailey breathless. She wanted to smile, but she couldn’t, because
the Ghost of Christmas Past certainly did not smile. But inside she was giddy. Tim might as well have stopped the action and
announced to all the room that Andi couldn’t turn his head. Not when he was in love with Bailey.

She felt herself stand a little taller as the scene wound down and as she delivered her final lines — lines that warned Scrooge
to love today, while time still allowed. “There is never enough time to say or do the things you want in this life, never
enough time to love the way you want to love,” she told him. “We are only here for a little while, Scrooge, and then we are
gone.”

With that, she took the same slow, otherworldly steps off the stage, ignoring Tim’s pleas that she stay with him, that she
allow him to live a little longer in the past. As soon as she stepped into the wings, she fell against the wall and remembered
the moment with Tim again. Suddenly her own lines came back to her.
“Never enough time to love the way you want to love…”
So why was she wasting her time thinking about Cody? She was dating an amazing guy, one she’d looked up to all her life.
He had none of Cody’s crazy past. He’d never been drunk or slept with a girl, and on top of all that he cared enough to know
exactly how she felt in the midst of their scene.

Whatever her feelings for Cody, however she’d been frustrated by him, none of that mattered. Tim was a great guy, and he’d
proved that out there on the stage, not caring if anyone caught what he was doing or not. Her heart felt lighter than it had
all day.

She removed her red cloak and listened as Tim and the Ghost of Christmas Present sang one of Bailey’s favorite songs from
the show. “I like life … life likes me … life and I fairly fully agree …”

Bailey couldn’t agree more. She worried about Andi’s choices, and yes, if Cody fell for her there would be times when Bailey
would hurt. But she had Tim, and in light of that sweet moment on stage, she couldn’t be happier.

Tim was wonderful in the final scene of the first act, and Bailey watched his every move, silently cheering for him. As the
curtain fell at the beginning of intermission, Bailey waited for him in the shadows.

He started to pass by, the area too dark to make out shapes or people. “Tim,” she whispered as loud as she could without being
heard on the other side of the curtain.

“Bailey?” He was out of breath, adrenaline and exhilaration no doubt racing through his veins.

“Here.” She reached out and touched his arm. “You were amazing.”

“You too.”

They couldn’t hang out in the wings for long. The director would expect them to report to the greenroom to hear his notes
on the first act and to receive any last-minute direction for the second half of the show. But they had a few minutes at least.

“I mean, I kept believing you were really Scrooge.”

He came nearer, facing her. Even this close and as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked like an old man.

“I love this. I could perform in New York, you know?”

“You could.”

“You too. Seriously, Bailey, you should’ve been Isabelle. You’re so good.”

She should’ve been Isabelle? Bailey opened her mouth to thank him, to tell him that was the exact thing she needed to hear,
but the words got jumbled on the way up from her heart. Instead she slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Finally,
when she was sure of her voice, she pulled back and searched his eyes. “Thank you.”

Here was further proof that something was building between them, something that hadn’t been there before. Tim didn’t ask what
Bailey was thanking him for. He didn’t have to. Instead his voice softened. “I wanted you to know that my character might
desire Isabelle —” He brushed his cheek against hers. “But I want you, Bailey. Only you.”

Her heart responded by pounding in her chest, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him. A quick kiss wouldn’t have violated
any university theater rule, but again this wasn’t the time. So she eased from his arms and grinned at him. “Come on. We need
to get back.”

Bailey played a townsperson in the second act, and everyone in the cast gave their all as the show ran down. In the final
scene, when Tim sang about being ready to begin again, Bailey wanted to join him. If ever she’d been ready to truly move on
it was here, tonight. Not until she was back on stage and staring at a standing ovation did she realize perhaps the most important
thing about the night — something that hadn’t happened since the moment Tim looked at her that way in the middle of their
scene.

She hadn’t thought about Cody once.

F
ROM HIS PLACE IN THE BACK
of the theater, Cody watched the actors take the stage for their curtain call. He could’ve been wrong, but he sensed a change
in Bailey, something he couldn’t pinpoint or put into words. Up until now, on the rare times when he and Bailey shared a few
words or a conversation, he sensed she still had feelings for him.

Just not enough feelings to walk away from Tim Reed.

But now? There seemed to be some new and stronger chemistry between Bailey and Tim, and as the applause began to die down
and the houselights came up, Cody watched Tim sling his arm around Bailey’s shoulders, both of them laughing as they walked
offstage with the cast.

He looked away. At the other side of the theater near the front were Bailey’s parents and brothers, people who just a year
or so ago had been his family. He thought about crossing the theater to say hello, but they would be looking for Tim now.
Not him.

“I see you.” His mother leaned in close. She was still clapping, but she made sure he could hear her voice over the noise
of the audience.

Cody turned to her, his expression blank. “See what?”

“How you look at her.”

“Andi?” Cody shifted and watched Andi saunter toward the edge of the stage. She was still waving at the crowd. He had told
his mom that he and Andi were becoming better friends and that she’d asked him to her opening night. He nodded as his eyes
found his mom’s again. “She was beautiful. Perfect.”

His mother had been absent for so much of his life, trapped by her demons and addictions. She had missed much, but not anymore.
These days she was going to church with a few friends from her alcohol recovery class, and she’d been sober longer than he
could ever remember. They were actually building a relationship for the first time.

She looked at him and raised a brow. “Not Andi.” She held up her copy of the
Scrooge
program and pointed to a photo just inside the front cover. “Bailey Flanigan. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

With everything in him, Cody wanted her to be wrong. Bailey wasn’t interested. She was dating Tim, and that was that. Especially
tonight, when something very special seemed to linger between the two of them. Andi was striking, gorgeous as Isabelle. In
his high school days, back when he was a jerk to just about every girl he came across, Cody wouldn’t have had the ability
to see past Andi Ellison.

His mom was still looking at him, and he felt something crack in his resistance. Finally he drew a long breath and admitted
just enough. “I’ve cared about her longer.” The crowd was filing out, moving past them, and Cody was in a hurry to talk about
the play or where they were going afterwards for coffee. Anything else. Bailey and he were a thing of the past for lots of
reasons. He wasn’t comfortable having his mom look straight into his heart, not when he hadn’t quite given her viewing privileges.

But they were at the end of their row, and before they could file out, she touched his arm and waited until he looked at her
again. “It’s okay, Cody. I’ve known for a long time.”

“Known what?” He tried to sound neutral rather than frustrated.

Her voice grew nostalgic. “How you feel about that girl. How you’ve always felt.”

“Mom.” He forced an exhale. “No offense, but you weren’t around when Bailey and I were friends. And that’s all we were. We’ve
never been anything more.”

“I wasn’t around much.” Her eyes were heavy with the pain from years lost. “But when I got out, when I came home … I saw the
way you looked when you talked about her. I knew then.” She had to look up to him, but she put her hand on his cheek. “And
I know now.”

“Mom.” He didn’t want to talk about Bailey. Not with his mom, anyway. He was trying to build something new with her, which
meant he didn’t want to look backward. Not regarding his mom, and certainly not regarding Bailey. When it came to the ins
and outs of his heart, she was hardly a qualified expert. He smiled at her. “Can we talk about something else?”

“It’s just —” She let her hand fall back to her side. Her face grew concerned, almost worried. “Cody … I like the Flanigan
family, but … I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been hurt enough.”

He was suddenly aware of his prosthetic lower leg and his lonely afternoons and a lifetime of not knowing his mother — and,
mixed together, he hated how it made him feel. “Mom, please.” He was not a victim. Not because of his war injury or his past,
or anything Bailey might mean to him. “I’m not hurt. I’m fine.”

She ceded with a slight nod, and her eyes shifted to the sticky floor between them. “I’m sorry. I just … I worry about you.”

“Don’t. I can take care of myself.” He couldn’t get angry with her. It was too late for that. He put his arm around her shoulders
and gradually walked her down the aisle toward the door. She was trying, something he’d prayed for. His frustration gave way
to kindness, confidence. In this, their new relationship, he was the leader, the stronger one. He had almost forgotten that.
“So … what’d you think of the show?”

“Good.” Her smile was tentative, but she understood. The conversation about Bailey was over. “Very good, really. The guy playing
Scrooge was amazing.”