had stayed with her since then. “I can’t be Cody’s friend. I care too much about him.”
“Hmm.” Her mom’s face was open and kind … not the least bit judgmental. “I understand.” She wasn’t in a hurry, clearly wanting Bailey to feel her support. “How are things with Brandon?”
Bailey felt a smile start in her heart and work its way to her face. “He’s great. I mean … every time we talk I feel the possibility a little more.” She explained how Brandon had plans to visit often and for whatever reasons he could think of.
“I’m sure.” Her mom laughed. “Especially if he would fly to Indiana to help you clean your room.”
The conversation lasted well into the night, until finally they were both too tired to keep their eyes open. As Bailey fell asleep she recounted the time with her mom, how close the two of them were. Tonight’s talk was the sort of one she couldn’t have on a regular basis once her mom returned to Bloomington on Wednesday.
She reminded herself to appreciate this time with her mom, and she thanked God for the opportunity — both that night and the next day as they took a car into the city and saw Mary Poppins. By then, the sadness from the night before had faded, and after the play Bailey and her mom set out down Seventh Avenue toward Forty-second Street — and past the J. Markham Theater where Bailey would perform. The Hairspray marquis looked twenty feet high and the lights around it shone even now in the brightest sunlight.
“I can’t believe it.” Her mom slid closer to Bailey in the backseat of the cab and gave her a quick side hug. “This is where you’ll be working!”
They asked the driver to stop, and they jumped out of the car and took pictures in front of the theater. The building was locked and empty now, since it was only ten in the morning. Rehearsals took place a few blocks away. But still Bailey wanted to capture this moment, and she took a final photo using her phone. Then with a few taps of her fingers she texted it to Connor with this caption: Working on Broadway … God is great!
They were back in the car when Bailey felt her phone vibrate and saw Connor’s response. He’s got big plans for you, Bailey … glad to see you smiling today!
A warmth spread through her, and she felt the certainty of being exactly where God wanted her to be.
She gave the driver directions to the rehearsal location: Big City Studios on Fifty-fourth Street. Traffic was bad — but then that was always the case. “We could’ve walked faster,” her mom whispered to her, grinning.
“I know … I think that’s what I love about New York. You’re never alone.”
“That’s for sure.” They both laughed, and fifteen minutes later the driver reached the studio. They asked him to be back in an hour, and they hurried inside. A guard at the front door looked over Bailey’s paperwork, checked their IDs, and let them inside. As soon as they walked into the lobby of the rehearsal space, they heard the music. On the other side of the door the cast was practicing the song “Without Love,” and suddenly Bailey’s heart soared with what lay ahead. It was really happening! She belonged here … performing on Broadway.
Quietly they crept in the back door of the studio and looked for a seat along the rear wall. Francesca Tilly, the show’s director, had asked them to come. But that didn’t mean she would want her rehearsal interrupted. The space was large enough for the entire cast to be spread out, and from what Bailey could tell, everyone knew the dance. But this was how they stayed strong. They practiced until the movements were like breathing.
The moment the song ended, Francesca clapped her hands and pointed toward the back of the room. “Alright, family, turn around.” Twenty-some dancers did as she asked, curious looks on their faces. “This is your newest sister. She’ll begin rehearsals Wednesday.” Francesca smiled big toward Bailey and her mom. “Welcome, Bailey Flanigan. And Bailey’s mother, I assume. We’re glad you’re here.”
Bailey had the sense this was how Francesca always introduced the newest cast members, because the guys and girls smiled and waved, and there were a few who called out, “Hi, Bailey … glad you’re here.” Or some other such thing.
She returned the waves, and so did her mom.
As soon as