by Pat Simmons
Rahn loved his job—or “playtime,” as Shae teasingly called it. But the fact remained that his livelihood was interfering with his love life. He lounged on his bed in the hotel suite he was sharing with Marcus, letting his mind drift, until his cell phone rang. The ringtone indicated it was Shae, calling to say she’d made it to her condo from work.
Closing his eyes, Rahn answered. “Since home is where the heart is, I’m homesick, baby.”
Her giggle taunted him. “You’ve only been gone one day.”
“Okay, Miss Carmen, you try to tell me it doesn’t feel like one week apart.”
“Guilty.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled. “Six more long days before we see each other again—Skype and FaceTime don’t count. Speaking of the virtual world, I got your odd text earlier. What was that all about?”
“Oh, sorry. I pressed ‘send’ before I could finish the message, and we were at a scene, about to go live, so I didn’t have time to correct it.”
Rubbing his forehead, Rahn was afraid to ask what danger she’d been in this time, but her business was his business. “Please tell me there weren’t any guns involved.”
“Nope, just a boring old prisoner, escaped from a hospital window still wearing shackles. That’s it.”
Rahn let out a hoot. Marcus appeared in the doorway, frowning, evidently curious about the cause of his outburst. Apparently satisfied that he was okay, his friend shook his head and walked away.
Shae laughed along with him. Once they had composed themselves, she said, “I was trying to text you to see if you’d heard about the arrests made in your carjacking attempt.”
“Yes, the police left a voice message that the bad guys confessed and are behind bars. Hopefully, that’s the end of the story.”
“Pretty much, unless there’s a trial. I’m just so glad God intervened and spared your life, and that they’ll be off the streets.”
“Me, too,” Rahn said, “though, in a sense, I owe those dudes.”
“Are you insane? You could have been killed!”
“I know.” Rahn shifted on his bed and glanced at the Gideon Bible on his nightstand. “But I recently read Genesis fifty, verse twenty: ‘Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.’ Although the devil had set up an ambush, God wouldn’t let the gunmen harm me. That incident, bad though it was, brought me in contact with someone good—you, and Jesus. It was the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
Shae remained silent, though he thought he heard her sniffle. “Amen, in Jesus’ name,” she finally said. “It’s because of my bad experience in Nebraska that I’m here in St. Louis. So, the Lord had my blessing awaiting me—you.”
Her words hit home, making him miss her even more. They connected on so many levels. “I love you, you know that?”
“I do. And I love you, too.”
Her attempt to stifle a yawn was ineffective—Rahn heard it, taking his cue to order her off the phone. “Get some rest, sweetheart. May God keep you safe and give you sweet dreams. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“If the Lord’s wills it,” Shae replied, as she always did. “Good night. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
His time away flew by, but no sooner had they reunited after that road trip than Rahn said another good-bye and was gone again. The days blurred after the Cardinals swept the New York Mets, then got pounded by the Atlanta Braves.
A lot more than the team redeeming itself after its losess was riding on the next series against the Phillies. This was personal. Rahn wasn’t worried about his performance on the field; it was the impression he would make off the field, with Shae’s family, that had him concerned. He arranged to have ten guest passes left at the gate of Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. He wouldn’t be surprised if every one of them was claimed, which meant he would definitely be outnumbered by the Carmen family.
Shae had wanted desperately to be in her hometown and make proper introductions, but she couldn’t get off work, since many of her colleagues were already on vacation. And that was okay with Rahn. He was a big boy and could handle the scrutiny. But he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting while he waited in the dugout for his turn at bat.
At the top of the eighth inning, it was anyone’s game, with the runs tied at four. The Cards had two outs, and Rahn was on deck to bat after David Freeman, but the third baseman struck out. Although the Cards needed to win, Rahn didn’t look forward to extra innings. He wanted to get his long-awaited meet-and-greet over with.
Marcus struck out two of the Phillies’ hitters, and Rahn caught a fly ball to end the eighth. In the ninth inning, Rahn was the leadoff hitter and managed a double. It wasn’t long before the bases were loaded. But there were two outs when Matt Hammond came to bat. With the count at two strikes, Matt connected with a fast pitch and cleared the bases. Rahn was first to cross home plate. The Phillies couldn’t duplicate the momentum in the bottom of the inning, and they lost to the Redbirds with a final score of 8 to 4.
In the locker room, teammates gave Matt kudos for saving the game and bringing an end to the Cardinals’ losing streak.
“So, you nervous?” Marcus asked Rahn as they dressed after showering.
“What man wouldn’t be? Family is important to Shae, and she’s important to me. But I got this.” Rahn slipped his feet into his shoes.
Ten minutes later, he strolled into the Hall of Fame Club lounge. Shae had texted him pictures and identified every family member she thought might attend. He recognized her mother right away. She was a striking woman with long, jet-black hair. Shae was definitely a younger version, only with skin the shade of honey.
Two equally beautiful women stood next to Mrs. Carmen—Shae’s sisters. Both seemed happy to see him. He couldn’t say the same for the four men towering over them like bodyguards. Two of them wore Phillies jerseys and eyed him with unreadable expressions.
An older, distinguished-looking gentleman approached him, smiling broadly. “Great game, Mr. Maxwell,” he boomed. “I’m Bradford Carmen, Shae’s uncle.” He pumped Rahn’s hand with a strong grip. The man had the charisma of a megachurch pastor, and that put Rahn at ease.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” Bradford said, then made the formal introductions. “This is my wife, Camille, and my sister-in-law, Annette—Shae’s mother.”
Annette’s eyes twinkled like Shae’s. “Hello, Rahn. It’s so nice to meet you.” She gave his hand a soft squeeze. “My daughter said you were a great player. I agree.”
Bradford laughed. “Those two don’t know anything about baseball that I haven’t told them.”
“And they still don’t know the difference between a strike and a foul ball,” said a younger man, stepping forward. He was about the same height as Rahn. “I’m Ted, Shae’s brother-in-law. This is my wife, Stacy, the oldest sister.” His arm slipped possessively around her waist, and the loving gesture made Rahn wish for Shae. He admired any couple who seemed to be still in love after tying the knot.
“I’m Garrett,” said another young man. Rahn shook his hand. “Good luck,” Garrett added. “The Carmens are hard on a brother. This is my girl, Shari Carmen, Esquire.” He beamed with pride at the woman, whose flawless dark skin reminded Rahn of an African queen.
Since the baby sister, Brecee, lived in Houston and was therefore missing in action, all the Carmen women had been accounted for. The two gentlemen who hadn’t moved watched him with their arms folded. Rahn exchanged nods with them, but, judging from their body language, they weren’t easily impressed. When Bradford cleared his throat, one of them stepped forward.
“Thanks for the tickets. I’m Victor, Shae’s cousin.” Victor offered Rahn a handshake. The darkness of his skin and features were almost identical to Shari’s. Victor was clean-shaven and an inch or two shorter than Rahn.
“Dino. I’m his younger brother and backup.” Built like an offensive tackle, Dino tilted
his head toward Victor. His hair was straight, like Shari’s, and he’d tied it back in a ponytail.
Hadn’t that fashion craze played out a long time ago? Rahn wasn’t about to ask. Instead, he watched with amusement as the pair sized him up. He wasn’t easily intimidated—unless someone had an assault rifle pointed at him. “Nice to meet you.”
Dino finally extended his hand and gave him the firmest shake of them all, squeezing hard as if he was trying to extract blood for the Red Cross without a needle.
Staring him in the eye, Rahn gave it right back, then turned to address the group. “I don’t know about you all, but I’ve worked up an appetite. Since the team is staying at the Ritz-Carlton, I was hoping we could get to know each other over dinner at Del Frisco’s Steakhouse, since it’s right near there. My treat.”
“That’s expensive,” Annette whispered, seeming to do a silent head count.
“It’s not a problem, Mrs. Carmen.”
“I’m rather starved, myself,” Ted said, patting his own stomach and then his wife’s.
Shae had told Rahn about her pending status as an aunt, so he congratulated the expectant couple. They beamed and thanked him before everyone filed out of the lounge.
“We’ll need at least twenty minutes—thirty minutes, tops—to get through the traffic on Broad Street,” Ted advised.
“I’ll call the restaurant and let them know how many are in our party,” Rahn told them. “See you there.”
They walked out of the lounge together and parted ways at the curb. Rahn rode in the team’s car service to the hotel, while the Carmens headed to the parking garage.
Half an hour later, the party of eight was gathered in a private dining room at Del Frisco’s. Everyone ordered without much deliberation. It didn’t go unnoticed by Rahn that they made conservative dinner choices. To him, that spoke volumes about their character. In his experience, most people splurged when a celebrity was picking up the tab.
A whirlwind of conversation circulated around the table while they waited for their meals. The men wanted to talk baseball, so Rahn fielded their questions, most of them centered on the day he was called up from the minor leagues to play in the majors. “I’ve been chasing my father’s record ever since,” he admitted.
“You’re holding your own,” Bradford assured him.
Annette and Camille were more concerned about his intentions toward Shae.
“The Carmens have strong family ties,” Annette informed him. Her voice was no longer soft but commanding. “My daughter doesn’t recover easily from bad relationships. She may be a no-nonsense reporter, but she has a tender heart. The Carmen girls are a special breed. They’re mine, and I’m a force to be reckoned with, even without these guys to back me up”—she gestured to the other men at the table—“if she suffers even as much as a hairline fracture to her heart.”
Rahn took a deep breath. “Understood. I’m happy to say that I’ve repented in Christ of all my dirty deeds. Now, he whom the Son has set free is free indeed.” Rahn smiled. “I can protect Shae’s heart. She’s very important to me.”
“Good answer.” Annette returned his smile, and for a second, Rahn thought he was staring into Shae’s face.
“Speaking of protection,” Dino broke in, “I guess a man of your status never thought you would be a crime victim, huh?”
Victor nudged him, but Shae’s cousin didn’t back down. Was his question laced with concern or mockery? Either way, it seemed Rahn wouldn’t escape without talking about the incident.
“My life has forever changed,” he acknowledged. “In an instant, I was knocked off my high horse, and while I was down, the sweetest, most beautiful, loving woman brought me back to life—your cousin. I love her fiercely and I’d protect her by any means necessary.” Rahn shot Dino a pointed stare and forced him to blink first.
The women seemed pleased. The other men were quiet for a moment, and then they started applauding him. Soon everyone was clapping softly—even Dino.
Lord, thank You for winning them over…I think.
***
Shae twisted several strands of hair with her finger. Why hadn’t she heard from Rahn or her family? The game had been over hours ago. Stuck at her desk, Shae was antsy. Her mind multitasked, reading the news feeds from various stations across the country and praying that her family liked Rahn. It wasn’t like she had nothing to write. She had been assigned a two-part story on local pesticide companies that were using banned ingredients that caused customers and workers to fall ill.
When the quirky “your mother’s calling” ringtone played, Shae jumped as she reached to answer her phone and learn the family’s verdict on Rahn Maxwell. “Hi, Mother.”
Evidently, she had been patched in to a conference line, because everyone was speaking at one time. “Okay, who wants to be the spokesman?” Shae’s head was spinning as she tried to piece together the different assessments.
Uncle Bradford gave his animated recap of Rahn’s every play, as if Shae hadn’t seen most of the game on television herself. “I’m thinking about writing to the commissioner of baseball,” he told her.
Uh-oh. “Why?”
“Do you know the Cardinals play the Pittsburgh Pirates seventeen times this season?” he practically whined.
“Okay…so?”
“The Phillies only get eight shots with St. Louis.” He took a breath.
She still wasn’t following him. Plus, she already knew all that. As a matter of fact, the calendars in her home were circled on the dates Rahn would return, and she’d programmed her cell phone to alert her accordingly. If all else failed, her heart had his return dates memorized. The downside was, when she calculated their time together, it was miniscule before he was off again.
“And the last three games are in hot and humid St. Louis,” he ranted on.
“No worries, Uncle Bradford. My condo has air-conditioning. I guess you’ll be meeting me in St. Louis, as the song says.” One crisis averted. “So, what did everyone think about Rahn as a person?”
“We were all impressed,” her mother said. “I think even Mother Stillwell would be pleased.”
Shae frowned. What did Mother Stillwell have to do with this? “She didn’t attend the game, too, did she?” She didn’t want to link her happiness to the church mother who had a fifty-fifty chance of being a reliable forecaster of potentially blissful unions. Shae’s relationship with Rahn had nothing to do with Mother Stillwell’s self-proclaimed “gift.” No, the fingerprints of a divine Matchmaker were all over her and Rahn.
“Oh no, dear. She always asks about you.” Her mother’s explanation didn’t placate her.
“He’s too much of a pretty boy for my taste,” Dino asserted.
“Be nice,” Stacy ordered on the line. Without any sisters to protect, Victor and Dino had never stopped stepping in since the Carmen sisters had reached an approved dating age.
“Do you expect her to date an ugly man?” Stacy silenced their cousin.
“Well,” Uncle Bradford took the lead again, “I like him. Not easily intimidated, strong handshake, and personable. I’m sure he wanted to be anywhere but with a roomful of strangers without you to act as a buffer. I say you hit a home run.” He chuckled at his joke; others groaned at his sports analogy.
“Me, too.” Shae grinned. “I praise God that I didn’t strike out again.”
22
Rahn had flowers delivered to Shae at work before the Cardinals’ chartered plane touched down at Lambert Airport. An invitation was included. Finally, his lady was within hugging, kissing, and praying together distance.
“I’d love to join you for an ‘inspirational breakfast’ in the morning, Mr. Maxwell,” she cooed into the phone as he was driving home from the airport. Her professional voice melted away to a preferable softness whenever they talked. “I’ve missed you so much! What’s so inspirational about it?”
“I’ll be dining with you.”
He imagined Shae’s seductive smile when she s
ighed. Before he could further create an idyllic picture in his mind, out-of-control police scanners blasted in the background, shattering the moment. How could Shae stand all that noise?
“Hey, I’ve to go, babe,” she said, her professional tone kicking back in. “Breaking news—a mob fight at a mall.” She gave him a soft kiss.
“Be safe, okay? This man loves you.”
“I know, and I love him back, and I always take Jesus with me.” She disconnected.
“Lord, help me to always do my part to protect her heart, mind, and body, in Jesus’ name,” he prayed. “Amen.”
During the rest of the drive home, for reasons unknown, Rahn did a quick assessment of his life. He had been a resident of Wildwood, a West County suburb, for years. He enjoyed the secluded estates away from I-64 and major streets. Whenever he returned from being on the road with the team, city-hopping across the country, Rahn always welcomed the sight of his stately house and the solitude it offered. It truly had been a man’s castle, with high-end electronics at his fingertips and home-cooked meals prepared by his housekeeper. Not to mention a healthy, never-ending social life. Rahn had thought he had it all…until he had come face-to-face with Shae. Somehow, without her presence to share it, the multi-level, twelve-room house felt empty, despite the fine furnishings.
Minutes after walking into his home, Rahn unpacked, a task that took little effort. He sorted clean clothes from dirty, put his toiletries away, and rested his suitcase in the corner, open, ready to be refilled.
Usually, he liked to unwind when he got home, but his only desire was to see Shae. With a plan in motion, Rahn showered, changed, then grabbed his car keys again. After running some errands, he eventually ended up in the lobby of Shae’s condo, chatting with Mr. Chapman as they watched the ten o’clock news. As the credits flashed on the screen, Rahn counted down the minutes until Shae’s car pulled up to the curb.
