by Pat Simmons
The topic soon changed to faith, and Shae learned that the Evanses attended a sister church of Bethesda Temple. When their food arrived, they all joined hands, and Marcus offered an eloquent prayer, asking God to bless their meal, sanctify their minds, and help them to remember those in need. After a chorus of “Amens,” they dug in.
During the meal, their conversation jumped from one topic to another until, somehow, Rahn and Marcus snuck in sports news, mainly baseball.
Yvette exchanged an amused glance with Shae. “You’ll get used to it,” she assured her. “I leave him to his sports, and when it comes to shopping, Marcus gives me free rein.” She added in a whisper, “How about a girls’ day out—
shopping, a spa treatment, and lunch at a cozy restaurant—while they’re on their next road trip?”
Shae didn’t think the men were listening when she eagerly agreed.
“My treat,” Rahn said, in a tone that meant Shae shouldn’t bother turning down his offer.
“What about me?” Yvette asked her husband, giving him a sultry pout.
“You carry my checkbook everywhere. It’s always my treat.” Marcus snickered.
Yvette chuckled. “Oh, yeah.”
After the dessert had been long finished, Marcus and Yvette said their good-byes, saying they needed to get home and relieve the babysitter of her duties.
“Ready?” Rahn turned to Shae.
Her mouth said “Yes,” but her heart longed for more time with him. It was still early. As they left the restaurant, he must have picked up on her somber mood, for when they got in the car, he said, “So, my little lady wants to go shopping? I know just the place.”
“Now?” Shae smiled. “Honestly, I don’t care if we go shopping at CVS or go for Ted Drewes’ Frozen Custard…I just want us to squeeze in as much time as possible while you’re here.”
“Selfish, hm? I like that quality in my woman.”
Rahn drove to the Galleria and led her into Nordstrom. Shae was surprised when the customers who clearly recognized Rahn actually left him alone—with the exception of two little boys who wanted a picture with him. He happily obliged them. Yes, Shae thought, he is a true cheerful giver, just the kind God loves.
At one point, Rahn perused the racks of women’s clothes and shoes with no shame. To humor him, Shae tried on everything he selected, though she had no intention of buying anything or letting him whip out a credit card. But the experience was exhausting. They left only minutes before the store would close, each of them carrying a bag—the new wallets they’d bought for each other.
“You’re going to have to let me be the man in this relationship and woo you like I want,” Rahn said as he parked in front of her condo. He gave an intense look. “Thank you for the wallet, baby.”
Her ears tingled, and she smiled.
“The next time we go shopping, don’t bring your purse.” Without a further word, Rahn stepped out, then came around to her door.
Inside the lobby, they strolled toward the elevators. Shae closed her eyes as she snuggled in his embrace. Their good-night kiss was short and sweet.
“Are you ever going to invite me up?”
She’d known the question was coming. Would she ever say yes?
Rahn squeezed her hand. “I’m not pressuring you, but you are my lady, and I have a right to make sure you’re safely back in your home.” He cupped her face with one hand. “All day my mind has been telling me, I’m grown; I can do what I want, especially when I’m in love with a sweet and beautiful woman.”
His comments mirrored her thoughts exactly. Shae wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “I agree we’re two adults, but my salvation—our salvation—can’t have been in vain. I don’t want to have to repent for something that could have been avoided.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I know that if we fall into sin, there’s no guarantee of another chance to repent. Ever since that carjacking attempt, that thought has scared me.” He pushed the elevator button, then stepped back. “Go on up.” He tilted his head when the door opened. “I’ll stand outside and wait for you to wave from your window.”
“We can do this, right?” She needed him to reassure her one more time.
He gave her a sad-puppy-dog look and slid his hands into his pockets. “We’ve got to,” he said, clearly frustrated. “God knows I’m trying. Night.”
You could lose a good man by playing games with him, the devil hissed in her ear.
She shoved the thought away with a scowl, recalling Luke 9:25: “For what is a man advantaged, if he gain the whole world, and lose himself, or be cast away?” Mad at the devil, Shae marched out of the elevator, mumbling, “It’s not worth losing my soul to keep a man.”
Once inside her condo, she disengaged her security alarm and raced to the window. Rahn was leaning against his car with his arms folded across his chest. She waved to get his attention, and he waved back. Seconds later her phone rang.
“I see you, babe,” he said when she answered. “Listen, I don’t want to play games with God, either. I want us to be on the winning team. I love you.”
Shae’s heart fluttered, and she closed her eyes, as if doing so would make his declaration linger. What could be sexier than a man’s sincere desire to walk with God? Opening her eyes, she watched as he got into his car. Puckering her lips, she placed a loud, squeaky kiss on her phone’s mouthpiece. “Thank you for my gifts.”
“I might be going deaf, woman. You only let me buy you one gift.”
“But you gave me you this evening. Good night.”
20
His woman was killing him with her sweetness. All she wanted from him was him. Lord, thank You for my jewel.
Once his ear stopped tingling from Shae’s virtual kiss, Rahn placed a call to Marcus, holding his phone to the other ear this time. Marcus answered immediately. “What’s up, man?”
“What would you say if I told you Shae was the one?”
“If?” Marcus barked, causing Rahn to fear complete deafness. “I would say you might be slow, but you’re definitely not stupid. There is no if. She complements you, and I like who you are around her—yourself. Now, with that said, good night. I do have a wife.” He ended the call.
Laughing, Rahn checked his rearview mirror before merging onto the interstate. “Yeah, I’m planning to have one of those, too.”
A few nights later, at a restaurant with Shae, Rahn stared across the table at her. She looked beautiful, with her hair swept up and piled atop her head, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Her elegance matched the ambience of the restaurant. He loved her and could never tell her enough.
Both had worked the previous day—or, as Shae had put it, she’d worked while he’d played. He was about to depart for a seven-game road trip. It would be only his second one of the season, and already the routine was getting old.
A young man approached their table, breaking their trance. “Do you mind if I get an autograph, sir?”
“Sure.” Rahn reached into his shirt pocket for a pen.
The young man cleared his throat. “I mean from Miss Carmen.” He gazed at Shae, clearly smitten. “I’ve been a fan since you started at Channel Seven.”
Shae graced him with a smile.
“You’ve got sixty seconds,” Rahn answered for her. “We’re on a tight schedule.”
***
As far as Shae was concerned, Shakespeare had it wrong. “Parting is such sweet sorrow”? No way. There was nothing sweet about having to whisper good-bye to Rahn.
Shae had memorized the Cardinals’ schedule before he left: a three-game series in Phoenix against the Diamondbacks; travel day; three games in San Francisco; back home. She was moping around her condo when Yvette called, lifting her spirits. It didn’t take long before the conversation turned to Rahn. “I know you miss him,” Yvette said.
“Yes, more than I thought I would.” Shae sighed. “It’s almost a tease.” She flopped on the window seat and watched the rain p
our down outside.
“It is, and you’ll never get used to it. But there are ways of coping. Are you up for doing something fun tomorrow? Maybe lunch?”
Honestly, Shae didn’t really care, and Yvette seemed to pick up on her hesitation. “I’ll even let you talk my ear off about Rahn and still be your friend.”
“Deal.” Shae laughed because, deep down, she knew Rahn was all she wanted to talk about. Her sisters had pointed out as much, even going so far as to ask her to diversify her conversation topics during their Skype sessions. “Sure, I’d love to do lunch,” she finally said.
The next day, when Shae left to meet Yvette, there was no rain in the forecast. The sunshine lifted her spirits even more, plus a brief phone conversation with Rahn.
He’d encouraged her with a Bible passage that was becoming their golden Scripture—1 Corinthians 13:4–7: “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”
When she arrived at the restaurant, the two embraced, then Yvette suggested they dine on the patio. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“I agree.”
The hostess led them along a path around the common area to a side set of French doors that opened onto a magnificent garden of blooming trees and blossoming green plants. Even birds seemed to serenade patrons from their perches nearby. It was a perfect backdrop for the numerous wrought-iron café tables for two.
A soft breeze tickled Shae’s ear as they took their seats. “This is nice.”
“Isn’t it?” Yvette said enthusiastically.
When their server arrived, both women ordered lemonades; Shae asked for a chicken salad, while Yvette went for a chicken salad sandwich.
Left alone, the two chatted about fashion, hobbies, and, eventually, baseball, until their food arrived. They paused to bless their meals and then picked up the conversation again.
“I have to ask,” Shae finally said, “how you handle the long absences.”
“I have two little ones to remind me of the man I love, but”—she wiped her mouth—“when they act up, I have no problem venting my frustration to their daddy after he finishes a game. If the team loses, though, I go easy on him.”
Shae used her napkin to smother a laugh. “How long have you two been married?”
“Five wonderful years.” Yvette beamed.
Did Yvette have any fears about Marcus’s marital fidelity? Shae was curious, but she would never ask something so personal. She hadn’t even asked her sister Stacy that question when she’d married Ted. Dismissing her curiosity, Shae switched topics as they enjoyed lunch. The time passed quickly until she had to leave for the station.
“Thanks for accepting my invitation. This really has been fun. My treat.” Yvette paid their bill with her credit card. They walked together to the parking lot, where she gave Shae a good-bye hug and a piece of advice: “You and Rahn can make it. Rumors will abound about groupies sleeping with one player or another, but have faith in what you two have. And pray for him. Temptation can sneak up anywhere.”
Shae’s spirit lifted. “Are you saying that I have nothing to worry about?”
“Before Rahn’s redemption, the lure was too great, and he indulged. After accepting Christ’s salvation, my friend has a conviction that is unmovable, and he’s in love with you.”
“It’s good to know I don’t have to worry about the possibility of another woman.” Or of being the other woman.
With one final wave, they went their separate ways.
At the station that afternoon, Shae hadn’t even taken her seat when Diane bumped her chair against hers. “Hey,” was her colleague’s signature greeting. “The AP wire is reporting that there’s been an arrest in Rahn’s attempted carjacking case.”
“Really?” Shae gave Diane her utmost attention. “That’s great news.” She quickly signed on to her computer and clicked on the Associated Press news tab to read the headlines and updates: “St. Louis city police have arrested and charged three men from South St. Louis with the attempted carjacking of Cardinal slugger Rahn Maxwell…. Police set up a sting operation…
Who says the media doesn’t report good news? Shae thought, recalling Marcus’s earlier complaint about the news business.
“You think he knows?” Diane peered over her shoulder.
“He’s out of reach until after the game, but I’m sure this will make his day.”
“Maybe he’ll make my day and give KMMD his first reaction,” said Greg Saxon, who’d appeared out of nowhere.
Shae eyed him warily. “Are you trying to use me to get to him?”
Greg exchanged a devilish grin with Diane. “It works for us,” they said in perfect unison.
“The choice is his,” Shae replied with a smirk. She refused to use her relationship with Rahn to earn brownie points with the station.
Besides that piece of breaking news, there wasn’t much of anything else going on that was worth broadcasting. So, Shae collaborated with the producer and the assignment editor, Debra, in trying to drum up a meaningful story for her to report on. The upside of a slow news day was that Shae would be able to watch most of the Cardinals game while she updated a story she’d reported on a month earlier about the impact of a local food pantry closing its doors.
She switched the channel from CNN to the network that was about to air the game. Never had she appreciated a cameraperson’s zoom lens more than when Rahn stepped up to the plate. Even in work mode, he was handsome, with his brown eyes and trim beard. Nothing he wore could hide his physique—a tailored suit, casual jeans, or a Cardinals uniform. Shae had to restrain herself from cheering out loud when his bat connected with the ball on the second pitch.
Although there was an unlimited number of interruptions from the staff and callers, Shae was able to keep up with the score. In the top of the seventh inning, one of the Diamondbacks’ heavy hitters challenged Marcus’s fastball. Shae pressed her palms together as if in prayer, and she didn’t blink when the ball shot into the outfield. As the center fielder, Rahn had to make the call—try to catch it, or leave it to the right or left fielder. She willed his glove to go for it, but an emergency scanner shattered her concentration.
“Shae, we finally have something!” the assignment editor shouted from across the newsroom. She pumped her fist in the air. “Escaped prisoner in South St. Louis—yes!”
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Shae leaped from her seat before the play was over and headed for the assignment desk. “What are the details?”
“The police say a black male dressed in a white hospital gown and wearing iron leg shackles jumped from a hospital window. Go figure why they can’t spot him.” Debra slapped her wide hips and scanned the newsroom for an available photographer. Then she picked up the phone. “Jeff to the assignment desk. Jeff Craig to the desk!” She twisted her lips into a scowl. “He’s not doing anything but hiding from me.”
When Jeff made his appearance moments later, he and Shae were quickly out the door and en route to the scene.
“Can you believe the security in this city?” Jeff joked, chewing on a straw as he drove. “The suspect should audition to be a stunt man in Hollywood.”
“You know what they say…truth is stranger than fiction.” Shae shook her head.
When they arrived at the location, Shae scrambled out of the news vehicle, carrying her microphone and notepad. Jeff followed with his camera. Her adrenaline pumped as she searched for an officer or a hospital spokesperson to interview. Of course, there were several bystanders eager to get some time in the spotlight. After they recorded a few interviews, Jeff shot video of the area, including the window the prisoner had jumped from. When the live truck with the editing bay arrived on the scene, Shae and Jeff got to work piecing together their st
ory.
Forty-five minutes later, without a second to spare, they were ready with a video report, complete with scene images; the suspect’s mug shot, provided by the police; and a handful of interviews. Stealing a minute for herself, Shae started to send Rahn a quick text about the good news on his case as her photographer set up his tripod.
Do you know
“Stand by,” Shae’s producer spoke through her earpiece, startling Shae and causing her to hit “send” before she was ready.
She stashed her cell phone in her pocket, cleared her throat, and mentally recited her opening line. Holding up her microphone, she waited for the anchor to introduce her story. “Good evening.” She nodded to the camera. “The sheriff’s department is advising residents in South St. Louis to keep all doors and windows locked tonight. A few hours ago, twenty-year-old Jesse Warner escaped from custody by climbing out of a third-floor window at St. Louis University Hospital. Warner is described as a black male, five feet seven, and bald. He has tattoos covering his right leg, and he was wearing leg shackles. Warner is wanted for selling and distributing narcotics and now for fleeing police custody. If you see this man, or have any information pertaining to him, notify the police. For Channel Seven news, I’m Shae Carmen, reporting live in South St. Louis.”
“We’re cleared,” Jeff said. He looked around nervously as he removed his camera from its tripod. “Let’s get out of here before this suspect decides to hijack our news vehicle.”
Shae rolled her eyes. “Chicken.”
“You’ve got that right. My job is to cover the story, not become part of it. C’mon, let’s roll.”
21
For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat.” Why did 2 Thessalonians 3:10 stand out to Rahn while he was reading his morning Scripture? The rule was a no-brainer that his mother had instilled in him and his sister when they were children.
