of our role … the way we handle hosting a young star like Bailey.”
Now her mom smiled at the term. “I heard him say that, how he called you a young star, and I looked across the breakfast table at you.” There was a tenderness in her mother’s voice. “I wanted to say, no … you weren’t a young star. You were my little girl. My Bailey … and that, I don’t know, somehow I guess I expected you to come back home with me when you were done playing pretend on Broadway.” She reached over and put her fingers over Bailey’s. “But then I only had to remember how I’ve seen you perform … what you’re capable of doing. And I realized they were right. You’re a young star on Broadway, Bailey.”
“Not really.” She understood what her mom meant, but she didn’t like the term. “I never think about people being stars or … I don’t know, having fans. Like some people are above others … better somehow.”
Her mom angled her head, thoughtful. “I love that about you. I mean … they were only saying it in the kindest way. But you’re right … people are people.”
Bailey smiled. “It’s what you and Dad always taught us.”
“And now … sweet girl … you get the chance to live that out here in New York City.” She leaned in close and hugged Bailey. “You’ll be brilliant, honey. And everyone will see something different about you, how you’re not like anyone else. And along the way, I’m absolutely sure people will be changed.” She pulled back, her eyes still on Bailey’s. “Maybe even —”
“Francesca Tilly?” They hesitated for a moment and laughed. Because once more, one last time before her mother would return to life in Bloomington and Bailey would start her own here in New York, they had finished each other’s thoughts.
The ride to the airport was too fast, and as the driver pulled up to the American Airlines drop-off area, Bailey felt her throat tighten. It was one thing to walk around the city with her mom, marveling at the sights and being grateful about her new place and her incredible opportunity. One thing to go through an intense rehearsal with Francesca barking orders at her one on top of the other while her mom was watching. Her mother was her best friend, after all. But now …
Her mom set her bag down and they stood facing each other on the curb. “When you were born … I would stare at you for hours and somehow believe that this day would never come.” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she spoke just loud enough to be heard above the occasional passing car. “I couldn’t imagine it … you all grown up and leaving.”
“I know … me either.” Bailey took her mother’s hands. “You’re my best friend, Mom. We’ll talk every day. No matter how long I stay here.”
Her mom didn’t say that even if they talked every few hours it would never be the same … she didn’t mention that there was no way around the fact this was a very real and dramatic ending to a special time in their lives. Instead she smiled through her tears. “You’ll stay a long time … I know that.” She kissed Bailey’s cheek. “Because you’re that good, honey.”
Bailey only looked at her mom for a while, memorizing the support and confidence her mom had for her. “Do you think … do you think I can do this?” Her voice had fallen to a choked whisper.
“Yes.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in her mom’s response. “You can do this … and you will be brilliant, Bailey. You will.” She smiled, gathering her composure. “I’ve loved every minute of raising you … my only girl. But you’re ready, sweetheart. Go shine brightly for Jesus.”
“I will.” It was all she could say before the tears broke for her too. She flung herself into her mother’s arms and they stayed that way, clinging to each other for a long time. Finally, Bailey eased back first. “You need to go.”
“Yes.” Her mom sniffed, and took the handle of her bag. “I love you, Bailey.”
“I love you too. Thanks for everything, Mom. You and Dad … we wouldn’t be who we are without you.”
There were no more words, nothing else either of them could say. They simply let their eyes speak the volumes between them, recapping a lifetime they couldn’t fit into this final moment. Her mom waved