She went to her closet, pulled out her suitcase, and set it on the bed. Her second suitcase went on the floor, where it would stay—a reminder that she needed to buy crayons and kids’ books.
For the next hour—until Sami came home—Mary Catherine went through her clothes, sorting out what to take and what to leave behind. The chore helped. She felt more organized, more focused on her flight out of LA next week.
But it didn’t stop her from thinking about a private balcony, an LA night sky clearer than most, and a song falling gently around her.
And the dancing she’d done in the arms of a man she would miss as long as she lived.
Even if she never saw him again.
5
EMBER PLACED THE CALL to Front Line Studios just after two o’clock.
Mary Catherine answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’m looking for Mary Catherine?”
“This is she.” Her voice sounded weary.
She’s sick, Ember thought. We don’t have long. She felt the heaviness of anxiety. Something angels felt only on Earth. She closed her eyes and continued. “Yes, hello. I’m with Janie Omer’s team, helping with details.” It was true. Angels always helped with details of mission trips. Whether humans knew it or not. Ember steadied her voice. “I’m checking to see if you’ve gotten your shots?”
Mary Catherine uttered a soft groan. “Not yet. I keep meaning to.”
“Okay, well, here’s what you need to do.” Ember explained that the clinic around the corner from Mary Catherine’s office could handle all the shots she needed. “They close at five.”
“Hmmm.” Mary Catherine hesitated. “I don’t get off work till six or so.”
“Ask your boss for the time.” Ember tried to sound convincing. “You need the shots today for the medicine to work in time.”
Another pause and then a quiet laugh from Mary Catherine. “I guess I don’t have any choice.”
“Right.” Ember could hear her own smile in her voice. “Thanks. Janie will be glad you took care of this.”
MARY CATHERINE HATED asking to leave early, but it was only Monday. If she still had work to do, she could stay late another day this week. And the volunteer from Janie’s team was right. If she didn’t get the shots today, she wouldn’t be protected by the time she reached Uganda. And in her case vaccination was crucial. Her heart couldn’t take a serious illness right now.
At four fifteen and with her boss’s blessing, Mary Catherine walked out the door of the studio offices, but before she could take a single step she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. “Marcus . . .”
He was standing there, leaning against a light pole, his eyes locked on hers. He wore dark jeans and a lightweight white cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up. His eyes shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. He took a few steps toward her. “Figured if I wanted to have a real conversation with you, I had to come here.”
“Is that right?” A rainbow of emotions colored Mary Catherine’s soul. Suddenly her energy soared and she felt a smile fill her face. He was here! Marcus had come all the way to Los Angeles for her! To talk to her. Her knees felt weak and her resolution weaker.
He held out his hands. No man ever had kinder, deeper eyes than Marcus had right now. “Mary Catherine . . . come here. Please.”
She had missed him more than she knew, even more than she’d been willing to admit. And here, with him standing a few feet from her, Mary Catherine felt like they were the only two people in the world. What else could she do but go to him?
As soon as his arms were around her Mary Catherine forgot every reason why she had tried to put him out of her mind. In this moment, her heart was well and she wasn’t leaving for Uganda and everything was absolutely right with the universe.
All because she was in Marcus Dillinger’s embrace.
Her words came in a whisper. “I missed you.” She held on to his waist, protected, safe. Whole.
“There.” He kissed the side of her head, stroking her hair. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
After a while, Marcus drew back and studied her. “How can you be more beautiful than I remembered? Your face, your eyes. Your heart. You’re perfect.”
Mary Catherine ignored the irony. At least she looked nice. She wore new jeans and a white T-shirt with a navy button-down cardigan. She’d lost weight since being sick. New clothes were a necessity.
She caught her breath and looked down the street. “Wanna walk with me?”
“Always.” He smiled, but there was no denying the depth in his expression. “Where to?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I need shots. For Uganda.” She pointed. “A few blocks away there’s a clinic.”
He took her hand. “It’s a date.”
The feel of his fingers between hers made her want to stop time. Live in this single day, this walk with Marcus. She grinned at him. “I told you, I’m the queen of procrastination. I was supposed to get these weeks ago.”
“Me, too.” They walked slowly, their arms brushing against each other with every step.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re getting shots?”
“Yes!” He tried to keep a straight face. “Didn’t you hear?”
“You’re quitting baseball and going to Africa?” She laughed and the sensation was freeing. How long had it been since she’d laughed out loud? Since she’d even had the energy to laugh?
He stopped and faced her. “You already know?” He nodded, still playing serious. “Hanging up the ball and glove, moving to Uganda. I’ll run the orphanage next to yours.”
“Mmmm.” She started walking again. “Because every village needs two orphanages.”
“Exactly.”
Mary Catherine laughed, and again the feeling was wonderful. “Perfect. We’ll do recess together.”
“Right.” He chuckled. “I’ll teach them to play baseball.”
“And I’ll teach them to dance.”
“And to skydive.” He winked at her. “If they ever get the chance.”
Mary Catherine laughed once more, but this time it fell a little flat. She would never skydive again or share recess with Marcus in Uganda. They had today. She would have to hang on to that. They grew quiet, and she was intensely aware of his presence. “When do you go back?”
“Tonight. Ten o’clock.” He sighed and lifted his face to the blue sky, then turned back to her. “Too soon.”
Mary Catherine stopped, stunned. “You flew in today?”
“Landed at three thirty. Took Uber to your office.” Marcus raised his brow. “Matthew West is the reason I’m here.”
“The singer?”
Marcus laughed. “Coach’s wife loves the guy’s music. He took her to a show and gave us today off.”
“I always did love Matthew West.” She smiled and started walking. “You’re here by yourself?”
“Tyler wanted to come. He had training.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “Poor guy can’t wait to get back.”
She hesitated just outside the door of the clinic. His eyes were so beautiful, the man behind them more so. Mary Catherine had to catch her breath again. This time the dizziness had nothing to do with her heart. Not physically, anyway.
The shots didn’t take long. Even though Marcus didn’t get any, he stayed at her side. The nurse looked concerned as she checked the list for Uganda. “You’re leaving Wednesday for Africa?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mary Catherine squeezed her eyes nearly shut for the last shot.
“You should be okay.” She checked a chart. “Our clinic is more conservative. We prefer giving shots ten days before travel. Just to be sure. Malaria is on the increase in Uganda.”
“Wait . . .” Marcus spoke before Mary Catherine could respond. “She’ll be protected still, right?”
“I think so.” The nurse smiled. She finished filling out the shot record and handed it to Mary Catherine, along with a bottle of pills to prevent malaria and instructions.
Mary Catherine tucked the paperwork and pills into her purse and thanked the woman. She only wanted to think about Marcus and how they would spend the rest of the day. As much as she was looking forward to being in Africa, the reality of leaving Marcus again darkened her enthusiasm.
When they were back on the city street outside the clinic, Marcus faced her. “Something’s wrong.”
She shook her head and found a smile. “No . . . I’m fine. Just wishing we had longer.”
“Says the girl who wouldn’t answer my emails.” His eyes sparkled. “Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s go to the beach.”
“Yes!” Mary Catherine grinned. “Perfect!” And like that the sadness and futility lifted. Never mind that it was a ten-block walk and she already felt breathless around Marcus. Tomorrow didn’t matter.
Not as long as she and Marcus could have one more time at the beach.
MARY CATHERINE WALKED until she couldn’t breathe. Then she would stop to share anecdotes from her work week or look at the crystal blue sky or laugh at something he said. He held her hand and stayed at her side, never seeming to notice the slow pace.
Each slight break gave her time to catch her breath.
By the time they reached their spot on the beach it was just after six o’clock. The temperature had dropped into the low sixties—normal for mid-March, but still chilly. The cool air felt wonderful to Mary Catherine. She slid her shoes off, rolled up her jeans, and dropped cross-legged to the dry sand. “I want to swim.”
Marcus took off his shoes and rolled up his jeans, as well. He sat beside her and rubbed his bare arms. “You might need your wetsuit.”
“True.” She laughed. “We should’ve stopped by my apartment first.” But even as she said the words she knew a swim now wasn’t possible. The cold water combined with her health would make it impossible to breathe. Besides, her doctor had forbidden it.
A quiet fell over them, intimate and sacred, their eyes on the pretty blue horizon. This time Marcus left a little room between them. The space gave Mary Catherine the chance to think more clearly, to convince herself this wasn’t a dream. After so long apart Marcus Dillinger really was sitting beside her, on her favorite beach.
But what about after this? He’d fly back to Arizona tonight.
She felt a ribbon of fear work its way through her. Marcus would get on a plane and a few days later, she would do the same. And that would be that. These would be their last few hours together for a very long time. Maybe forever.
She narrowed her eyes and blinked back the beginning of tears.
“What are you thinking?” Marcus turned to her, his expression warm and kind.
“Lots.” She smiled, taking her time. The pull she felt toward him was magnetic. Stronger than the ocean tide. “I wish I could stop time.”
“Mmm. Me, too.” He slid closer, and their bare arms touched again. Once more he faced the water. “Maybe I really will quit baseball and move to Africa.”
“Sure.” A giggle escaped before she could stop it. “The Dodgers will love that.”
“Mary Catherine . . .” He turned his body so he could see her better. He hesitated for a long moment. “If you want to stop time, why do you push me away?”
The sting of her tears grew stronger. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” His tone was gentle, his voice mixed with the breeze off the Pacific. “But why?” He sighed and hung his head for a beat. When he looked up, she could see the muscles in his jaw. “Can’t you feel it? The way we are . . . the way it is between us?”
“Yes.” She stared at the ocean. “I feel it.” God, what am I supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Marcus the truth. She refused to burden him with her struggles. Finally she turned to him again. “I’m not like other girls. I need crazy adventure. Something different.” She hated this, hated not telling him the truth. “What if I don’t come back from Africa?”
He drew back, as if he’d been slapped. “Ever?”
“Right.” She felt her head spinning. Because I might not live that long. The sad reality swept over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. This time she could do nothing to stop her tears.
He leveled his gaze at her. “What happened to the girl who wanted someone present, in the moment? Someone she could be real with?” He paused. “Someone who would listen?”
Mary Catherine could see herself that long-ago night, walking beside Marcus in his neighborhood, the two of them getting to know each other. He was right. She’d said those exact words. Now she searched his eyes. “Things changed.” At least that part was true. “I’m going away.”
“For six months, Mary Catherine. So what?” Marcus shook his head. “Don’t you get it?” He chuckled but the sound was mostly sad. “I’m not leaving. One day you’ll be back and I’ll be here. Waiting for you.” He hesitated. “If you’ll let me.”
Two tears slid down her cheeks. I want to, she thought. Dear God, You know I want to. She stood and walked to the water’s edge. Her feet ankle-deep in the cold surf, the tears came harder. She wanted to run to him and beg him to never leave, never let her go.
Which was why she needed to end things with Marcus.
She hated losing him but she had no choice. Africa was now or never—and this trip had been a dream of hers for too long to give it up now. Sure, if she were healthy she could agree to let Marcus wait for her. But there was no point. Her situation was what it was.
Mary Catherine felt his arms around her before he reached her. The bond between them was that strong. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. She didn’t turn around, didn’t want him to see her crying. Instead she leaned her head back on his chest and closed her eyes.
“Hey.” His words came with a gentleness that belied his great strength. He eased her around so she was facing him. He caught her next few tears with his fingertips. “Is it me?” He looked pained even asking. “I’m just . . . not the one? Is that it?”
She searched his eyes. Somehow she could breathe better when he was this close. “It’s never you.” She put her hand on his cheek. “I told you before. If I was going to love someone . . . it would be you.”
At first he looked like he might argue, press for an answer that made more sense. Instead he slowly pulled her into his arms and held her. Mary Catherine memorized the feeling as they swayed ever so slightly to the sound of the nearby waves. She had never felt more safe and secure.
More loved.
Finally he eased back and moved his hands to her shoulders. “Then I’ll wait.” His breath was sweet against her skin, his words like balm to her heart. “When you come back in six months I’ll be here.”
“I might not come back and then—”
“I’ll move to Africa.” He searched her eyes. “Or to the moon. Wherever you are.”
Mary Catherine fell quiet. “No.” Her heartache had nothing to do with her health. “I asked you to be my friend.”
It was true. Last time they were together she had asked him to be content with that. And he had promised he would. That he would be the best friend she’d ever had.
A smokiness filled his eyes. He ran his hands lightly down her arms and looked to the deepest parts of her soul. “Does this . . . feel like friendship?”
She hesitated, trying to remember which way was up. Gradually she shook her head and whispered just one word. “No.”
“Then I’ll wait.” His words filled up every lonely, hurting place inside her.
Then, just when she thought he might kiss her, he took her hand. “Let’s walk.”
The beach was empty except for an occasional surfer. They headed north toward the pier, and again Mary Catherine felt winded. A constant reminder that she had to keep resisting him. Every twenty yards or so she stopped and stared at the sunset. The pace allowed them time to talk about other things. Marcus was involved in a weekly chapel Sunday mornings at the Camelback Ranch spring training facility.
“I had no idea so many major leaguers were Christians.” Marcus smil
ed. “A few of us meet for Bible study every morning. I’m learning a ton.”
“Like what?” She loved being with him, loved the way his fingers felt between hers.
“About living different from society. Living out God’s ways not only in love, but in truth.” He squinted at the sunset. “I want my life built on God’s word.” He picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through the fingers of his free hand. “Nothing else lasts.”
Mary Catherine felt her attraction to him double. They walked a little more and then turned to face the water. The golden light was just hitting the place where the sky and sea came together. She shaded her eyes with her free hand. “It’s so pretty.”
The air was even cooler now. Marcus put his arm around Mary Catherine’s shoulders. “I wish I could ask God to stop the sun . . . right there.”
“Mmmm. Yes.” She smiled. It was seven o’clock. They had an hour at best. “Just freeze it. With a million shades of blues and pinks spread across the sky.”
He took her hands and faced her again. The cold sand beneath her feet sent chills up her legs. Mary Catherine let herself get lost in his eyes. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“Figured if I could see you even for an hour it was worth it.” He brushed her long hair back with his fingers.
“You’re crazy.” She smiled, drawn to him, flattered by him.
“You can’t get rid of me.” His eyes sparkled, back to his familiar teasing. “I’m building that orphanage next to yours.”
She laughed and the sound hung in the air between them. The sun was already gone, dropped below the horizon. She ran her thumbs along the tops of his hands. “We have to go.”
“Can you pretend?” He moved closer, his breath soft on her cheek. “Please, Mary Catherine. Just for today?”
Her mouth was dry. “Pretend?” She could smell the faint scent of his cologne. All she wanted was to kiss him.
“Yes,” he whispered. “That I’m more than your friend.”
Tears blurred her eyes again. She closed the gap, brushing the side of her face against his. “I don’t have to pretend.” She met his eyes. “Nothing ever felt more real.”
Brush of Wings Page 6
