Angels Walking

by Karen Kingsbury

  She closed her eyes and she could see him, just before he stepped on the bus that long-ago day. I’ll prove them all wrong, Sami. The memory faded and she opened her eyes. Merrill Place was an older, low-slung building with a simple brick sign at the front of the driveway. Tyler, what are you doing here?

  Sami pulled away and drove straight to the beach. She needed to think, to wrap her mind around what she would say if she found Tyler. She climbed out of her car and walked to a retaining wall. For a long moment she leaned against it, facing the water.

  He hadn’t been completely honest with her after all. He’d said nothing about being cut from the Blue Wahoos or working at Merrill Place. Was he hiding something? He could be married for all she knew.

  The breeze settled her anxious heart. Maybe it was none of that. Maybe Tyler was simply at rock bottom and he hadn’t wanted her to know.

  For the next hour she walked along the sand, remembering her year with Tyler and the size of his dreams. They had been bigger than the Gulf of Mexico back then. So what about now?

  Not until she had returned to her car was Sami sure she was ready to see him. Besides his parents, she might be the only person who remembered how badly he wanted to make it, how hard he would have to try to find his way back now that he’d been cut. She owed it to Tyler to stop in and talk to him, encourage him to fight for the chance to pitch again.

  Even if it was the last conversation they ever had.

  23

  THE SHAKES HAD STOPPED, but there was no escaping the prison of pain. Tyler pushed the mop over the vast floors at the front entrance of Merrill Place and tried to remember life before his torn labrum. He hummed “Amazing Grace” as he worked.

  I once was lost but now am found . . .

  He had a plan now. He would save his money and come spring, he would have half of what he needed for the surgery. Then he would take a few weeks off, drive to California, and visit his parents. He would explain the situation and tell them he was sorry. Virginia said apologies were free and people should use them more often. A person can never say “I’m sorry” or “I love you” often enough. Those were her words.

  His parents might not welcome him, but Tyler was pretty certain they’d listen. At least that much. He would explain that he never should’ve allowed so much time to pass and then maybe they would forgive him. His parents would know where he could turn. Which doctor might take payments. That sort of thing. Certainly someone in Simi Valley would remember him and repair his labrum—if he had at least half the money.

  Get the surgery by April, and he’d have a year to come back, a year to find the speed and accuracy that had always defined him. Once he was pitching like himself, he’d start with the Blue Wahoos. If they didn’t want him, he’d contact every AA team in the country. Someone would take a chance on him. He was still Tyler Ames. Surely God had a plan for him. Tyler was actually beginning to believe that.

  He had a million miles to go, but he was off Oxycodone and working out every day. He could never be perfect on his own—not in baseball and not in his daily interactions. He needed God’s grace to get him through. It had taken meeting Virginia Hutcheson to understand that. Even on his best days before his injury, Tyler Ames had been lost.

  Now he was found.

  The sound of the front doors caught his attention and he turned, ready to alert whoever it was that the floors were wet. But before he could open his mouth he felt the world tilt hard to one side. Standing there, her eyes locked on his, was the only girl he’d ever loved, the one he never expected to see again.

  “Sami,” he whispered. He felt the blood drain from his face as he leaned the mop against the nearest wall and turned to face her.

  “Tyler.” She didn’t move, didn’t say anything else. As if words might get in the way.

  It took ten seconds before Tyler saw the situation through her eyes. The great Tyler Ames, winner of the Little League World Series, was washing floors at Merrill Place, his damaged arm still in a sling nearly two months after his injury. He stood a little straighter and went to her. He hugged her, quick and awkward-like, the unconvincing embrace of distant acquaintances. He stepped back and found his smile. “Why are you here?”

  “Business. I have meetings this afternoon and tomorrow.” She looked embarrassed for him, like even she didn’t know what to say.

  “I wish—” He chuckled, too defeated to search for an explanation. “I wish you would’ve called.” Tyler really wished he could stop the moment, rewind it, and delete it from everyone’s memory. He was a broken maintenance worker, not a baseball player. The truth was as plain as the look on her face.

  Before he could say anything else, something caught his eye. He turned and there was sweet Virginia, shuffling toward him, her face lit up in a smile. “Ben!”

  Sami looked confused. Her eyes moved from Virginia to Tyler and back again.

  “Ben, look at you cleaning house.” She reached him and patted his shoulder. “Best son a mother could ever have.”

  There was no time to worry about Sami, what she thought, or how this looked. Tyler took Virginia’s hand. “How was breakfast?”

  “Wonderful. They make the best eggs. Your father’s favorite.”

  “Good.” Tyler smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

  Virginia seemed to notice Sami. She shuffled closer, bridging the distance between the two of them. “Are you a friend of Ben’s?”

  Tyler stepped closer. “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t wait for Sami to answer. “She’s my friend.”

  “Wonderful.” Virginia patted Sami on the arm. “You’re a good girl, then.”

  Sami nodded, clearly setting her curiosity aside. “Thank you.”

  “Ben is amazing.” The old woman smiled. “You have yourself a real keeper.”

  For a moment Sami hesitated. “Yes.” Then she looked straight at Tyler, as if they were the only two in the room. “I’ve always believed that.”

  Always believed? Tyler felt dizzy. Was she really here, a few feet away? And did she mean to use that word? No one had believed in him the way Sami had. But that was a lifetime ago.

  Virginia turned to Tyler again. “You’re coming by later?”

  “Of course.” He walked alongside her. “You need help to your room?”

  “No, no!” She looked back at Sami. “You stay here with this pretty girl.” Virginia leaned close to Tyler. “She’s lovely.”

  “She is.” Tyler walked with Virginia halfway down the hall. Sami was waiting for him back in the entryway. He suddenly realized how he must look. Old dirty jeans, a worn out T-shirt. The ratty brace keeping his shattered shoulder from too much movement.

  He stood a few feet from her and shoved his good hand in his pocket. “Thanks for coming by.”

  Her expression changed and anger flashed in her eyes. “That’s it? I come all the way from California and you’re dismissing me like . . . like some stranger?”

  “What do you want me to say?” His own anger caught him off guard. “You’ve seen me, Sami. So go. Go back to your successful life in LA. You can write me off your list now.”

  She looked like she might scream at him. Instead she took a quick breath and exhaled slowly. “We need to go somewhere. I can’t talk here.”

  He wanted to tell her no. She hadn’t been invited, so she could just leave. But somehow that didn’t seem fair. Not after she’d come so far. “Wait here.”

  Tyler took the mop and bucket back to the closet and found Harrison in his office. “An old friend stopped by. Can I have an hour?”

  “Take as long as you like.” His boss looked relaxed. “You’ll finish later. I’m not worried.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Tyler hid his frustration as he backed out of the office.

  He found Sami in the same place, still waiting for him. Fine. They would go talk so he could explain to her how he should’ve gone to UCLA and how his failed attempt at baseball had landed him here. He had been wrong. Everyone else had been right. Then he would tell
her good-bye.

  Once and for all.

  TYLER DROVE HER to the park next to the stadium and they found a bench overlooking the beach. Along the way he asked her about her job, about the client in Pensacola and the work she had to do later today and tomorrow. Not until they were sitting opposite each other on the bench did Tyler stop looking for ways to keep the conversation going.

  They sat in silence, facing the water. He tried to believe he wasn’t dreaming.

  “It’s beautiful.” Sami didn’t look at him.

  “Yes.” Much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. “Different from the California beaches. Gentler surf. Warmer.”

  More silence. Tyler was grateful for the unrushed sound of the waves. Otherwise the nothingness might’ve been awkward. Finally she turned to him. “I don’t want to talk about the beach.”

  Fine, he thought. Let’s get it over with. This was why he had brought her here, so they could say what needed to be said and let it go. Finish things between them for all time. He put one knee up on the bench and faced her. “I’m a janitor.”

  “I know that.” She didn’t look away, didn’t blink. “You think that matters? You think I’m judging you for that?”

  “Of course.” His voice rose. “I told you I was on the mend, working toward my shot at the majors.”

  “Aren’t you?” She sounded frustrated. “Isn’t that why you’re still here in Pensacola? So you can get back to baseball?”

  Tyler blinked. Why was she dragging this out? “Sami, come on.” The anger left him like air from a day-old balloon. “Who are we kidding? What we had . . . it’s been gone for a long time.” He lifted his good hand and let it fall to his knee. “Your boyfriend . . . he’s a successful lawyer. You have a great job. Your life is set.” He looked out at the ocean again. “Why are we doing this? Why did you want to see me?”

  “Because.” The intensity in her quiet voice remained. “Tyler, look at me.”

  His eyes found hers. Her unforgettable, deep blue eyes. It took all his effort not to be dragged back to a time when he loved her with every breath. “Why?”

  “Because I had to see for myself.” With their eyes connected, Sami seemed suddenly calmer. “Who you are today.”

  “I told you.” He felt his heart shut off. “I’m a janitor.”

  “The Tyler Ames I knew was a dreamer and a doer. He would make things happen. Find a way to win.” Hurt colored her tone. “After you left home, you changed. Everyone knows that. But when I got your Facebook message I thought . . . maybe that phase was over. That you’d found your way back to who you really are. The Tyler I loved.”

  “What does it matter?” Tyler wanted the moment to end. Nothing could come from this. “You’re happy now.”

  “How do you know?” Her tone became more hurt. “You haven’t even asked.”

  “Sami.” he was losing the fight. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. If he didn’t find a way to end this meeting, his heart would get the better of him. He gritted his teeth. “Let’s leave it at that.”

  “If I’m so happy . . .” Her voice dropped so it was barely louder than the sound of the nearby surf. “Why am I here?”

  He stood and walked a few feet away. For a long time he just stood there, staring at the ocean, sorting through his next words. He felt her at his side before she spoke, sensed her like his own heartbeat. “You know why I turned down UCLA?” He turned and suddenly he didn’t want to argue anymore. “To make you proud of me. All I ever wanted to do was make you proud. You and my parents.”

  “I always believed that.”

  There it was again. Her belief in him. She was only a foot away, and even though he knew better, he allowed himself to get lost in her, in the sound of her voice and the smell of her perfume. “I let you down.” He worked to keep his distance. “I’m sorry.”

  “You let yourself down first. That’s when you changed. Otherwise . . .” She folded her arms, not hiding the hurt in her eyes. “Who knows?”

  Tyler clenched his jaw and turned to the beach again. How was he supposed to keep his composure with her standing so close? “There’s no going back.”

  “I wish . . .” She moved closer so only a breeze separated them.

  He turned. “What do you wish?”

  She lifted her eyes to his. “I wish that when you forgot who you were, you would’ve come home. Even for a little while.” Her eyes were impossibly familiar. The same eyes that haunted him even still. “I would’ve helped you remember.”

  For a few seconds, he let himself imagine the possibility. “I should have.”

  “I waited.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I waited even after you changed.”

  The news tore into him with a pain all its own. Hadn’t he always wondered whether she had held out hope that he might find his way back? Back to Simi Valley and back to the guy he’d been before he left home? “You . . . didn’t take my calls.”

  “Of course not.” She raised her chin, willing him to understand her. “I didn’t want the drunken playboy Tyler Ames.” A single tear slid down her cheek. “I wanted the one I lost.” She struggled to finish. “The one who never came back.”

  He looked away and breathed in sharp through his nose. He wouldn’t break down, not now, not with her standing close enough to touch. “Maybe that’s why I was calling you. To tell you I’d quit all that.”

  “Tyler.” She shook her head and brushed a tear off her cheek. “I would’ve known. The news about you has always been as close as Google.”

  His eyes found hers again. Regret consumed him and became a pain even greater than the one in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sami. I never meant it.” He had more he wanted to say. “I thought I’d make it to the majors in a season or two. When that didn’t happen, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me. It was easy to get lost.”

  Sami sighed and stared at the sky for a few beats before looking at him again. “I didn’t care if you played baseball.”

  “Yes, you did.” Tyler held his sore arm against his body. “You and my parents, your grandparents. Everyone cared.” He wasn’t angry anymore. Just stating a fact. “Half our time together was at one of my games.”

  The hurt in her expression doubled. “You know why?”

  He didn’t answer. Of course he knew. Sami’s grandfather had been part owner of the Giants, after all. She liked that he played baseball.

  She came a step closer, a whisper away, as if by doing so she could will him to understand. “I came to your games because you were there.” Fresh tears shone in her eyes. “I would’ve gone wherever you were.”

  Like summer rain, the idea fell over him all at once. When he looked in the mirror back then—same as when he looked in the mirror now—he saw only one person: Tyler Ames, baseball player. If he wasn’t playing on the biggest possible field, then all his life had turned on a single mistake. “I thought I failed you, my parents.” He raked his left hand through his hair. “Everyone who ever believed in me.” He shook his head. “I figured it didn’t matter. I’d already lost everyone I ever loved.”

  Gently Sami placed her hand alongside his face. “I believed in you. Not your game.” She searched his eyes. “Baseball . . . wasn’t who you were to me, Tyler Ames. It was something you did. That’s all.”

  The feel of her fingers against his face made it impossible to think clearly. But he could see in her eyes she was telling the truth. She hadn’t needed him to be a perfect baseball player. He could’ve been a pianist or a guy on the debate team. She had needed only him. Period. The realization just about killed him. “I never knew . . .” He inched his way closer. “Come here. Please.”

  She came to him as if she was born to be in his arms. For the longest time they held onto each other, swaying slightly, the warm wind off the gulf swirling around them. With her this close, his blown-out shoulder almost felt normal. How could he have walked away from her?

  “Tyler.” She whispered near his face. �
�I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you.” He ached for a way back to then. He would’ve gone to UCLA and he never would’ve spent a day away from her.

  Sami lifted her eyes to his. “After you left, every night I only wanted to be sitting next to you on the roof again.” She brushed her cheek against his. “Back when the stars belonged to us.”

  “They did.” They still could, he wanted to say. Instead he breathed in the closeness of her, the feel of her skin against his. It would be so easy to kiss her, so wonderful to pretend the years apart had never happened.

  But they had happened.

  He was here. And she had moved on. They both had. He brushed his good hand along her cheek. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stay this way for long or he’d kiss her, despite every reason not to. He searched her eyes and he could see straight to her heart, to the place where she still loved him enough to find him.

  “I should’ve taken your calls.” She closed her eyes for a beat, clearly hurting.

  “No.” Tyler moved his hand to her shoulder and drew a slow breath. His control was slipping. “It was me. My fault.”

  When he was sure he couldn’t take the feel of her against him one more moment, he gently pulled away. “Come on.” He took her hand and led her back to the bench. When they were seated, facing each other, he did the one thing he didn’t want to do. He released her hand. “Tell me about him. Please.”

  For a few seconds Sami looked confused, as if she had no idea who Tyler was talking about. Then it hit her. “Arnie?”

  “Yes.” He needed to keep things focused on the here and now. The pain of his past actions and costly misunderstandings were enough to suffocate him. If Sami talked about her boyfriend, maybe he could find a way to move past this moment. “Tell me about him.”

  “No.” She looked away, clearly hurt. Her eyes filled with tears again. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “I saw your pictures.” Tyler willed the walls to stand again, the ones that most days kept him from missing her. “You have a new life now.”