by JoAnn Durgin
“Natalie told me a long time ago, when you were dating.” Lexa gave him a slightly sheepish glance. “But Lisabeth told me last night. Right after she talked with Natalie yesterday afternoon. Your wife admires you. Very much.”
He looked up so fast his neck popped. “What do you mean?” He massaged the back of his neck and tried not to stare. Surely there weren’t many women named Lisabeth. Did Natalie know he’d flown to Houston? He purposely didn’t tell her about this trip. He tamped down the quick rise of emotion.
Those aquamarine eyes were kind. “As far as I know, Natalie doesn’t know you’re here, and your heart’s in the right place in coming to us.”
Sam’s beautiful wife must be a mind reader.
“I called Lisabeth and told her we hadn’t heard from Natalie in a while, and wondered how she’s adjusting to married life. It wasn’t my place to tell her you were coming for a visit. She told me about Natalie’s accident, and she encouraged me to call Winnie, Rebekah, Amy and the other girls in our TeamWork crew. None of us knew about it. We’re all concerned, of course, and we want to help. The other girls agreed to wait and not call Natalie, or do anything else, at least until after your visit so we’d know more.”
At least Lexa’s tone wasn’t chastising. Shaking his head, Marc lowered his gaze. “Forgive me. I should have called, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Standing, he moved over to the opposite side of the counter from where they worked side-by-side.
Lexa stopped wrapping plump ears of corn in foil and gave him a gentle smile. “We all love Natalie—and you—and we want to surround you, and your marriage, in prayer. Remember, there’s a lot of power in numbers.” Ah, so she had a point with the numbers talk. Wise woman.
Marc wondered how they could love him except as an extension of Natalie, but he understood they did, and that filled him with unexpected contentment. They’d help them get through this continuing nightmare. His eyes were full when he glanced at Lexa and then Sam. “Every day I wake up with the same prayer—that somehow Natalie will regain her memory. That it’s all a bad dream.” He blew out a sigh and looked away. “But every night, when I crawl back into bed, nothing’s changed. And I wonder if it ever will.”
“I’ve learned there’s nothing too impossible for the Lord,” Sam said, his voice quiet. “He’ll work this out between you and Natalie. Good will eventually come from it, but we need to be patient. I know it’s easier said than done.”
“Love is the most powerful emotion we have,” Lexa said, glancing at her husband. “Every time we find it, it’s a gift. We have to believe the love you and Natalie share will overcome all the odds. We just need to find the key to unlocking her memories.”
Sam nodded. “We need to pray.”
Marc raised his head. “Right now?”
Those smile lines deepened. “Why not? No time like the present.”
Why did he have the feeling this couple would become very dear to him in the future? Maybe because they already were. He admired how they said we instead of you. He didn’t mind at all. He welcomed their prayers, their help, their love. Marc’s eyes traveled to their intertwined hands, and he nodded. He didn’t hesitate as he placed his hand over Sam and Lexa’s. They both grabbed onto his hand and held on tight. It was like he’d done with his Pawtucket teammates before every ballgame, but this time, it was different. Sam and Lexa would hold on as long as he needed.
TeamWork took on a whole new meaning.
Chapter 13
A few hours later, sitting in the living room after a delicious grilled steak dinner, Marc patted his stomach. He couldn’t wait to loosen his belt. “If you two eat like this all the time, how you don’t weigh a ton is beyond me.”
“Oh, we manage to work it off.” Sam laughed and winked at Lexa.
Blushing furiously, she gave his arm a playful swat. “We work out in the gym together.”
“Well, in any case, I’m not entirely certain I shouldn’t be getting myself a hotel room tonight.” He caught their surprised expressions.
“My sincere apologies, Marc,” Sam broke in without hesitation. “I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. It’s just . . . hard.” He was pretty transparent with his feelings, but hoped his envy wasn’t obvious.
“Forgive us. I’m sorry,” Lexa said. “I hate to think we’re being insensitive. How hard this must be for you. I can’t even imagine.”
He shot her a grateful glance before lowering his eyes. These two were the best example of a Christian marriage he’d ever met. During the course of their dinner, he’d witnessed the countless gentle touches on the hand, the loving glances. Marc swallowed his sigh. As they ate, Sam and Lexa had thoughtfully avoided discussing his situation with Natalie, and he was grateful. It would have been difficult to eat if he kept getting all choked up.
“In our painfully misguided attempt to make you feel welcome,” Sam said, bringing him back to reality, “all we did was make you realize what you’re missing with Natalie. We want to help. Name it, and we’re there. If you’re up to it, start by telling us how you two met and what’s happening with Natalie now.”
That’s all it took to open the floodgates. Marc gulped and began his story, telling them how he first met Natalie through a client at a Patriots football game at Gillette Stadium. She was dragged there by a cousin with an extra ticket given to them by his own ad agency, hoping to sway her into a passion for the game. Didn’t work. Although he didn’t get to spend much time with her that day, he was pleasantly surprised when one of her matchmaking cousins pushed Natalie’s phone number into his hand.
“I tried for weeks to get a date with the gorgeous brunette I’d met briefly at the game. I plied her with the usual—flowers, candy, offers of dates and fine dining.” He shot them a sheepish grin, pausing to gather his thoughts. It was amazing how easy it was to talk with Sam and Lexa. “I would have given her the world. Still would if I thought it would help get her memory back. Funny thing how money can’t buy something that precious.”
“How did you finally convince Natalie to go out with you?” A smile played about the corners of Lexa’s mouth.
Marc laughed. “She found me out.”
“How do you mean?” Lexa shifted on the sofa and tucked her bare feet beneath her.
“I volunteer at a home for troubled teens once a month. I’d all but given up hope trying to get Natalie to go out with me. Then I ran into her by accident at the home one Saturday morning.”
The faint lines around Sam’s eyes crinkled. “I love those so-called accidents by God’s design. Lexa and I can attest those can be the best kind. So, what do you do at the home?”
“Help with reading programs, sports activities, basically whatever they need. That particular day, another volunteer told me Natalie watched as I worked with one of the teenage guys, teaching him to read. Great kid, but he has dyslexia and it was keeping him from playing on the basketball team. My sister has dyslexia and had the benefit of one of those expensive reading programs, so I was able to give him a few helpful hints.”
“So, did you ask Natalie out that same day?” Lexa smiled when she caught Sam shaking his head. “Women need details. I’ve never heard this part of their story.”
“We went out for lunch, yes, but Natalie didn’t like the fact that I was in advertising.” Marc rubbed his forehead. “Like a lot of people, unfortunately, she was skeptical that someone in my profession could be sincere. It was pretty hard to accept, to be honest.” He blew out another sigh. “We obviously worked it out, but it wasn’t easy.”
“We all have baggage,” Sam said. “I’m sure Natalie saw exactly what I see in you.”
“Which is?” Marc looked up sharply.
“A man who gives his all to whatever he’s doing. A man who wants to serve God. A man who simply wants to love his wife. Wholly and completely.”
Unwelcome tears threatened, stinging the back of Marc’s eyes. They’d think he was a
complete sap if he kept tearing up all the time. Accepting the tissue Lexa handed him, he took a deep breath. Might as well get it all out now. “There’s more.” His words were so quiet both Lexa and Sam strained forward on the sofa. “Natalie’s pregnant. It happened right after we returned home from our honeymoon.”
Lexa’s sharp intake of breath was audible as she brought a quick hand to her mouth. “Oh, my.”
Marc nodded. “My sentiments exactly.”
“Of course, that’s great, but given the amnesia . . .” Lexa’s voice trailed.
“Well,” Sam said, “that throws an entirely different light on everything, doesn’t it?” That intense gaze fixed on him. “I take it the pregnancy wasn’t planned?”
“Sam!” Lexa shot him a surprisingly strong glare.
“It’s okay. We certainly didn’t plan on starting a family so soon. It’s no secret Natalie loves children. I love them, too, but we’re newlyweds, and didn’t always think about taking precautions.” Pressing his lips together, Marc gave them a knowing look. Sam and Lexa watched, silent, waiting, as though they sensed there was more to tell. He could trust them, and they wanted to help, so they needed to know. Everything. “We’re not even living under the same roof right now. About two weeks after the accident, Natalie moved back into the house she shared with her former college roommates. Funny thing,” he said, “she remembered certain things about them, but not her own husband. It became difficult for her, being nothing more than platonic roommates. It’s not what I wanted, but I had to let her go and do what was best for her.”
Lexa spoke first. “If Natalie can’t remember marrying you, I’m sure she’s struggling with the idea of being a wife. Her faith has always been so strong.” Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lower lip.
Marc sighed. “The truth? I’m a fighter. I’ve rarely failed at anything I’ve set out to do, and the thought of losing Natalie forever scares me to death.”
Sam’s caring, intelligent eyes seemed to bore straight through to his soul. Elbows on his knees, he leaned close. “As long as this is about reconnecting with Natalie and not a statement to the world about how Marc Thompson never fails.”
“I’ve thought long and hard about that. I’ve always been competitive, but I assure you, I don’t want to go through life without Natalie. Not only is she the best thing to ever happen to me, but I know the Lord brought us together against the odds. I intend to honor my marriage vows until the day I die.” Aw, man. The tears. Inhaling a deep breath, he plowed on even though his voice cracked. “I need help, and that’s why I’m here.” It was one of the hardest, yet most honest, admissions he’d ever made. Being an equally strong man, Sam must surely understand his inner conflict. He refused to give up his wife without a major effort to restore the relationship.
After Lexa pushed another tissue into his hand, Marc wiped his eyes but managed a grateful smile. “Natalie’s my best friend. There’s so much to love.”
“Tell us.” Lexa’s voice was gentle.
It might bring on the tears, but it helped to talk with Mr. Davis the night of Natalie’s fall, so it might help him now. “I love how she splashes in the rain like a carefree kid and doesn’t care that she’s getting drenched. She gets all sentimental and mushy when she hears the National Anthem at a ballgame. Natalie finds the violin hauntingly beautiful, and says it speaks to her soul, but what’s really beautiful is the kindness she shows strangers, the way she listens with equal patience to a five-year-old or an eighty-year-old. I saw her give the coat off her back to a woman with three kids downtown one day. The kids all had coats, but the mother was shivering so much her lips were turning blue.” He wiped his eyes again. “Natalie has a real heart for the underdog, and gives so much more than her time and money. When she sees a need, she fills it. That’s my wife.” Although he felt like a romantic sap, it was all true. Sam and Lexa deserved the bare-bones truth.
“So, then, time is of the essence, now more than ever.” Sam slapped his hand on his knee, determination written in every nuance of his face. “Natalie must recover her memory, the sooner the better, and we all need to work together to help her—whatever it takes. Prayer is the first key.” He tossed him one of those don’t-even-tell-me-you’re-not-praying looks, rising to his feet and starting to pace. With the set of his jaw, the firmness of his lips, the tilt of his head, Sam looked not unlike a general commandeering his troops.
Sitting up straighter, Marc lifted his chin. “As often as I can.” He felt like a kid in Sunday school, participating in a Bible drill. But, oddly enough, he didn’t mind. This was about Natalie. Nothing else mattered.
“You’ve discussed her condition with her doctors? Exhausted everything you can find to jog her memory?” Sam continued to pace.
“I’ve tried everything I can think of to fill in the blanks for Natalie, but in a lot of ways, it’s like someone else lived that part of her life.” Marc touched his chest. “She needs to know it in her mind as well as feel it in her heart, but other than the Lord—and the blessing of time—I don’t quite know how that’s going to happen.”
“I have an idea.” Sam’s hands found his hips, and his forehead furrowed. The loud ticking of the grandfather clock’s pendulum was the only sound in the room for at least a minute. With raised brows, Sam glanced over at Lexa. She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his.
“We have another work camp coming up, a short one,” Sam said, sitting back down beside Lexa. “Normally, the work camps last a couple of months, but this one’s only a couple of weeks. It’s not an official TeamWork-sanctioned mission, but one designed to help a friend to the organization. If you can get away, perhaps you can convince Natalie to come, and being together with the TeamWork volunteers again might somehow jumpstart her memories.”
“I think the goal is to recover any part of her memory.” Lexa’s drawl wrapped him in its warmth. “It might translate into remembering people or events from past missions, and Natalie might uncover other things hidden deep in her subconscious.”
A completely male, protective instinct arose. “What would Natalie be expected to do? I wouldn’t want her to be subjected to heavy lifting or working, given her pregnancy. I have to protect her at all costs.”
Sam smiled, his expression sympathetic. “We’d keep that thought uppermost in our minds. Marc, we can’t pretend to know what either you or Natalie are going through, or know exactly how to help. Getting away might be a definite advantage. Of course, you’ll need to get the okay from her doctors to take her outside the realm of her normal environment.”
“I’ll check with her doctors and psychologist, but I can’t imagine they’d have any objections.”
Sam nodded. “If this is something you want to do, then we’re there for you.”
“Mission Natalie?”
“More like Mission Marc and Natalie.” The corners of Sam’s mouth upturned.
“I don’t know.” Could he in good conscience leave his agency for a couple of weeks? That would take some maneuvering. “I’ll have to think about it. Where is this camp? I understand you’re often assigned to a camp in San Antonio.” He was afraid his hesitancy betrayed the fact he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect. Nothing against the city itself, the Alamo, the Spurs, or anything else. Then again, he needed to be willing to go wherever the Lord led. That’s why he was sitting in Sam and Lexa’s living room, after all. Geography wasn’t the real issue. Whether or not the inner control freak inside would allow him to leave his agency for that long was the problem.
“Why don’t we have some dessert,” Sam said. “You can think about it overnight, and we’ll talk more in the morning. For now, you stay put, and we’ll get the coffee started.” He gestured to the bookcase. “Take a look around. You might find something interesting.” The gentle giant ushered his tiny wife through the swinging door into the kitchen. Although she kept her voice low and controlled, as did Sam, Lexa had definite questions for her husband as Marc overheard her peppering Sam with questio
ns. He must have surprised her with his suggestion.
Stir crazy, Marc glanced at the wide variety of books on the shelves lining one wall of the spacious room and moved across the room for a closer inspection. He loved books, but hadn’t taken time to read much except for the occasional sports autobiography every few months.
Bible commentaries, Christian novels and non-fiction as well as sports books dominated the Lewis collection. He broke into a wide grin as he spied a Red Sox picture book and an autobiography written by Larry Bird. So, the man from Houston really was a Boston sports fan? Wasn’t that a kick. He assumed Sam only said those things to be congenial and break the ice during their phone conversation. Most sports fans from this area of the country—especially native Texans—were loyal to more regional franchises. Based on the University of Texas memorabilia scattered about the room, he figured the Longhorns also held a special place in Sam’s heart. Very fitting.
He stopped cold, staring at the spine of a book. The Life and Times of Jumpin’ Phil. Couldn’t be. Marc pulled the hardcover autobiography down from its place. Daring to look at the cover, his breathing slowed. His father’s features, from the dark blond hair, blue eyes, and determined expression so much like his own, stared back at him. Why had he never seen this book? Never even known about it? He knew why—summed up in one name—Mom.
For a few seconds, Marc flipped through the book, noting a few early photos of their family, before his parents’ acrimonious divorce. Going back to the front, he noted the publication date. Five years after the divorce when his dad retired from the NBA. Did Sam know Jumpin’ Phil Thompson was his father? If he didn’t, it wasn’t the time to tell him. This trip to Houston was about Natalie, nothing more. Snapping the book closed, he shoved it back in its place. It would be harder to shove the memory of this book back where it belonged. Just a little light bedtime reading. Yeah, right.
