by Pat Simmons
Before signing off, Shae smacked a loud kiss on the monitor.
That gave him something to smile about as he, Cisco, and Marcus joined their teammates at the ballpark. Before they took to the field to face the Boston Red Sox, they came upon a large crowd of fans hoping for an autograph. Rahn and many of the other Cardinals players obliged. As usual, he gave priority to children over adults. When Rahn got into position in the outfield, he wore his game face, but his heart was in St. Louis.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Rahn hit a two-run homer to tie the game. Now, Marcus and the others watched from the dugout as Matt Hammond walked to the plate. If anyone could bring the game to a close, it was the right fielder, and with a single swing. The pitcher threw a low ball, and Matt’s bat made the game-winning connection.
The Cardinals celebrated as if the victory would put them in the pennant race. Regardless of the outcome, every win or loss brought Rahn one step closer to getting back home to Shae. The three weeks left to go felt like an eternity to Rahn. And the longing in Shae’s voice when they spoke was evidence that the separation affected her just as much.
In the locker room, Rahn went straight for his phone.
Marcus shook his head as he opened his locker. “Man, you got it bad. Don’t you want to shower first?”
“Nope.” Rahn typed his message. “She can’t smell me either way.”
I miss you. Can we do lunch on Friday?
She texted back immediately.
You can get away????? Yes! Yes! Name the time and place.
Feeding off of her excitement, Rahn felt bad about teasing her—almost.
Your condo.
Shae’s response wasn’t as fast in coming. That didn’t surprise him.
I don’t think that’s a good idea. We miss each other so much, the temptation would be too great. Name somewhere else—public, please.
He snickered.
Trust me.
He didn’t realize Marcus had already showered until his friend bumped him on the bench. “Man, what are you doing? Writing a letter?”
Rahn shook his head. “Making a lunch date.”
“When?”
“This Friday.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Is she coming here?”
Rahn stood and sauntered toward the showers. “Nope.”
16
How can he ask me to trust him when I’m not sure I trust myself?” Shae gnawed on her lip, flustered beyond measure. The line was blurry when it came to her feelings for Rahn. Could she be in love with him, or was it lust? Either way, a lunch date of just the two of them—with those pent-up emotions—was asking for trouble.
She was connected with her sisters via Skype, but none of them had chimed in yet. Brecee in Houston and Shari in Philly looked concerned, but their oldest sister wore a whimsical expression. What was Stacy’s problem? Shae had a real crisis going on in her life.
As Christian women, the Carmen sisters had been taught to avoid any entrapments that might lead to fornication. She should’ve insisted on a restaurant. “Stacy, aren’t you listening? Don’t you have anything to say?”
“Yes, I do,” she said calmly, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them wide and screamed like a madwoman. “We’re pregnant! I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I’m going to be a mommy!”
Shae and her sisters erupted in jubilant squeals and shouts of “I’m gonna be an aunt!”
“How many weeks’ gestation?” Brecee asked, reminding them all of her medical expertise.
“So that’s why you went to the doctor yesterday morning,” Shari said. “Does Mother know? What did she say? How come nobody told me?” She sounded almost offended. She lived in Philly, just like Stacy, and probably wondered why she hadn’t picked up on this sooner.
“What did Ted say?” Shae asked, putting her own crisis on hold. Her brother-in-law was so overprotective of his wife, he’d probably put her on bed rest immediately upon hearing the news.
Glowing with happiness, Stacy waited patiently until she had everyone’s attention before answering. “I’ve been holding the news for days. Whew. That felt good getting it out. I’ll call Mother when we’re finished. Your dear brother-in-law got online and started ordering baby books and bookmarked Web sites about baby stuff. We may need a bigger house, with all the things he’s planning on buying.”
Shari tsked. “If you have a boy, we’ll be in trouble. Ted is sure to have a child-sized car waiting for him the minute he learns to walk.”
“But if it’s a girl…I can’t wait to take her shopping!” Shae was in awe. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt. Wait till I tell Rahn. He’s already an uncle…” His name brought her back to reality. Wasn’t Rahn the reason why she’d organized this Skype chat in the first place? She sighed.
Stacy must have heard her, because she straightened her shoulders and switched back to big-sister mode. “Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s talk about you and Rahn. Personally, I think you’re tempting your salvation threshold. One kiss or seductive look, and you’re a goner.”
Too late. Shae recalled their stroll in Forest Park the night before Rahn had left town. They had counted the number of kisses they’d shared, until Rahn had expressed concern that it was getting too cold for her. He’d said that they were one short, and that he aimed to collect upon his return. She tried to keep a straight face at the memory.
“Listen, Sis,” Stacy went on. “You already know we have to save our bodies for marriage at all costs.”
“Okay, let me jump in here,” Shari said. “Garrett and I know what God expects from the people He has sanctified. If Rahn is truly walking in Christ, you two can double-team the devil and show the world that failing isn’t an option for Christians. Remember, Jesus is able to keep you from stumbling and will present you faultless.”
Shae caught the reference to Jude 1:24—it’d been the golden Bible text in the Carmen household. She admired her sister’s steadfast determination not to sin in her relationship with Garrett. Somehow, Shari’s input seemed the most relevant; like Shae, she wasn’t married and probably experienced the same struggles, while their oldest sister had the freedom to do what married folks did.
“I need so much prayer, it ain’t even funny,” Shae mumbled.
“Okay, let’s take a vote,” Stacy said. “I vote no on Shae entertaining Rahn in her apartment. Change the location.”
“I vote yes,” Shari said. “Shae is grown and mature in the Lord. She’s going to have to overcome this sooner or later. She can do this.”
“Ooh, choices, choices—I could go either way,” Brecee said. She tapped her chin. “I vote…can I have a drumroll, please?”
Shae rolled her eyes. Brecee’s votes on sister issues were always unpredictable.
“I vote yes!” Brecee shouted, pumping her fist in the air. “Rahn knows he’s on probation with God and you.”
“Two in favor, one against, so it comes down to me,” Shae murmured. All eyes were on her. “My vote is…I don’t know.”
“Then it’s prayer time,” Brecee stated, bowing her head. “Father, in the mighty name of Jesus, we come boldly to Your throne of grace, where we know we may obtain mercy. Jesus, Your Word says we shall receive power once the Holy Ghost comes upon us. We know temptation is part of life, and we ask that You would teach us to overcome sin and walk victoriously in Your salvation. Lord, please help us not to make You ashamed. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Shae was the first to sniff. “I love you, sisters.”
“Love you, little sis. No matter what you decide, we’re all going to be praying.” Stacy blew her a kiss and signed off. The others followed.
“I won’t make You ashamed, God,” Shae whispered.
She filled the remainder of her day off with personal pampering—first a hair appointment, where she had her weave removed, followed by a manicure and pedicure. While she was under the hair dryer, she couldn’t help thinking about Rahn. She was touched that
he would leave in the middle of spring training to have lunch with her. She also spent a great deal of time in prayer to the Lord.
Before she retired to bed, Rahn texted her.
Don’t forget about our lunch date tomorrow, Miss Carmen.
How could she?
I won’t. I miss you so much.
She debated whether she should ask for a change of venue, but she had to use the tools God had given her, and place her complete trust in Him—not herself or Mr. Maxwell.
I miss you more. Night, baby.
***
Early the next day, Shae woke with praise on her lips, not only because she would see Rahn, but in order to shame the devil back to his hiding place. She proclaimed James 4:7: “‘Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’”
Although Friday was another day off, meaning she didn’t need to report to the newsroom, she could be summoned to work in the event of breaking news—no exceptions. As a habit, she filled her idle hours until lunch watching different news programs on television. One of her pet peeves was the “news” talk show, which she considered an embarrassment to her profession. The hosts weren’t concerned about presenting objective facts but only about asserting their opinions. That definitely wasn’t taught in journalism school.
Shae prayed for peace and goodwill to all mankind on this day, even as she repented of her selfish reason for doing so: She didn’t want anything to interfere with their date. When it was time to get ready, Shae scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. Rahn had commented on her “flawless” skin, so she took care to make sure her makeup kept up that illusion. Her hair had volume again, thanks to the curls her stylist had put in.
She slipped on a simple black dress with flirty ruffles and a pair of black heels, then got comfortable on her window seat, where she would count down the minutes until Rahn’s arrival. As she watched for his car, her mind wandered. She imagined how devastatingly handsome he would look; how his deep voice would soften into a whisper when he said her name; how his nostrils would flare when his eyes locked with hers. It was always so mesmerizing, so tempting.
Then, there was Rahn’s smile that made a woman wonder what he was thinking. Yet he never kept her guessing; he was up-front and honest about his intentions. Yes, she trusted him.
“It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man,” God whispered, reminding her of Psalm 118:8.
She repented. “Okay, Lord. I trust in You.”
When her intercom buzzed, Shae jumped. Her heart started pounding. She scanned the street below but didn’t see Rahn’s vehicle. She stood up, hurried to the panel near her door, and pressed the intercom button.
“Miss Carmen, I have some deliveries for you,” said Mr. Chapman. “May I send them up?”
Deliveries? What kind of deliveries? Puzzled, she frowned. “Okay.”
Finally, Shae heard a faint ding from the elevator down the hall. She smoothed her dress and then checked her reflection in the mirror, making sure her lip gloss wasn’t smeared on her teeth. When she opened her door, two men greeted her—neither was Rahn. One was dressed in a white caterer’s outfit and held a silver-domed platter. The other, wearing street clothes, leaned lazily against the wall as if posing for a CD cover. Suspended from a cord around his neck was a tenor saxophone—the same instrument her sister Shari played, along with their cousin Dino.
The elevator dinged again. Shae held her breath, expecting to see a handsome smile and confident swagger. Instead, when the door opened, the most beautiful arrangement of flowers was heading her way. It was so big, it hid the face of the person carrying it, but the deliverer was too short and too thin to be the man she’d been expecting.
Shae stepped aside and bid the caterer and musician inside. The caterer lifted a portable table that had been resting outside her door and carried it inside, along with the tray.
What was going on? If Rahn was going for a grand entrance, then he’d succeeded. She peeked down the hall again. Still empty. She turned her attention to the caterer, who had set up the table between her baby grand piano and the bay window and draped it with a white linen cloth.
Next, he fussed with the food placement like a skilled artisan. The man from the florist waited for her to direct him where to set the arrangement, and then he sprinkled pink rose petals on the table. Some of them fluttered down to her hardwood floor.
The saxophonist checked his watch, then positioned his lips on the horn’s mouthpiece as the caterer punched in numbers on his phone. “All is ready, sir.” When he disconnected, he pulled out the chair at the table. She hadn’t seen it there. Why was there only one?
“What’s going on?”
The three didn’t seem obliged to offer her an explanation. So, she waited for Rahn to knock on her door or Mr. Chapman to announce him in the lobby. Instead, her cell phone rang, with a FaceTime request from Rahn.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
“Still in Florida, babe. We don’t have much time. ”
“What?” Her heart sank. Yes, Rahn was wearing his uniform, verifying that it wasn’t a joke. “I thought you were coming here.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice and the pout from her lips in front of her uninvited guests. She had gotten herself and her sisters worked up over nothing.
“You have no idea how much I wish I was there.”
Angling her body away from her audience, Shae smiled and closed her eyes. “Me, too,” she whispered, as the saxophonist began to play.
“This is the best I could do. I can’t leave spring training unless there’s an emergency. Although”—he winked—“I do consider seeing you an extreme emergency. Like the song?”
She hadn’t realized she was tuning out the music. When she listened closely, she recognized the piece instantly—“I Wanna Be the Only One,” by the all-female group Eternal, accompanied by gospel artist BeBe Winans, a song popular in the 1990s. “I love it.”
“I stumbled across it and thought of you and me,” he explained. “Enjoy your lunch, babe.” In a whisper, he added, “You owe me a kiss.” Then he disconnected.
Suddenly, Shae wanted to be left alone with her thoughts. She caught the three men staring at her. “Thank you, gentlemen.” She eyed each one before dismissing them. “Bon appétit.”
17
When spring training was finally over, Shae was giddy with excitement. In celebration, Rahn sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers to the station. So much for not wanting to mix her personal life with her profession. The only nugget she’d given her nosy colleagues was a confirmation that she and Rahn were dating. Most hadn’t realized how serious it was until the arrangement had shown up on her desk.
“There will be a pass waiting for you at the VIP gate for tonight’s game,” Rahn said when she called to thank him. “I can’t wait to see you.” It was the same voice she had listened to for six weeks, but it sounded richer, maybe because he was closer.
“I wish I had someone to tag along with me, so I won’t have to sit there all alone.”
“You won’t be.”
Even though she would see him in just a few hours, it was hard for Shae to say good-bye. Yet she had things to do and little time left to accomplish them.
Wanting to impress Rahn with her understanding of baseball, she had soaked up whatever she could learn by searching online and watching games on TV. She’d steered clear of the sports department at the station, though; Rahn was off-limits, and she was sure his name would surface if she asked too many questions. The bulk of her information came from the sports junkie of the family, Uncle Bradford. Her father’s older brother, he was a walking sports almanac.
Along with her uncle’s enthusiasm about baseball came his reservations about Shae dating a high-profile athlete. She wondered if her father would have given her the same counsel if he were still alive.
“My heart knows Rahn is the one,” she told her uncle over the phone.
“God knows too, Shae,�
�� he reminded her.
Hours later, as promised, there was a pass awaiting her at the VIP entrance. Her heart pounded wildly. Despite her newfound knowledge of baseball and her excitement to watch the game, she would rather be smothered in Rahn’s strong arms than sitting in an uncomfortable seat amid the other spectators.
The last time she’d gone to a baseball game had been when her father was alive. He and Uncle Bradford had taken all of the Carmen kids: Shae and her sisters and their cousins, Kevin and Dino. That had been so long ago.
Thanks to her uncle’s briefing, she knew Rahn was off to a good start so far this season; the Cardinals had faced the Atlanta Braves, and in the series, he’d hit three home runs and earned six RBIs. She also had her uncle to thank for explaining that RBI stood for Runs Batted In.
Shae’s heart pounded with excitement and nervousness as an usher showed her to her seat, in a row not far from home plate. An attractive woman scrambled to her feet. “Hi, Shae? I’m Yvette Evans. My husband, Marcus, is a good friend of Rahn’s and also plays on the team. These are my children, MJ and Lannie.” She gestured to a young boy and girl who were sitting there, sharing a box of popcorn. “We are your welcome committee.” The children waved.
“Aren’t they cute? It’s nice to meet my welcome committee.” Shae smiled and waved back, then relaxed.
With her teenage youthfulness, Yvette looked too young to be anybody’s wife, let alone a mother of two. She sported a red Cardinals jersey, blue jeans, and a baseball cap, with her ponytail pulled through the opening in back. MJ and Lannie wore matching team jerseys with their last name printed on the back.
Shae had made an effort to look her best for Rahn without going over the top, but now she felt overdressed in her red shirt, floor-length floral skirt, and strappy, high-heeled sandals. She wished she was wearing one of Rahn’s jerseys.
Yvette embraced Shae as if they were longtime friends, catching her off guard. “I’m so excited to meet you too. I love those hats you wear every Sunday.”
