Angels Walking

by Karen Kingsbury

  “You don’t know me.” Another tear made its way down her cheek. She did nothing to stop it. “You thought I loved you because you could play baseball.” Her eyes held a sadness he hadn’t seen before. “How would you know anything about my life?”

  He kept his tone kind. “Arnie—he’s your reality, Sami. Maybe if you tell me about him . . .”

  “I didn’t come here for that.” She stood and stared at him, more upset than before. Something changed in her eyes. “I need to go.”

  “Sami . . . don’t.” He didn’t understand. How could she be angry? If it were up to him, she would be single and he would slip his fingers between hers and hold her hand, pull her close. He would find his way back to the wonderful moment they’d shared a few minutes ago.

  But he had to keep his distance. This crazy unexpected morning was another ending. Not a beginning. Tyler didn’t go after her. “You have a boyfriend, Sami.” He could hear the defeat in his voice. “That’s the reality.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about Arnie.” Her voice was more sad than angry. “I come here to tell you how much I’ve missed you . . . how I never cared if you played baseball.” She looked at the ocean for a few beats and then at him. “I told you . . . I want to talk about you and me. What happened to us. Not Arnie.”

  “He’s your boyfriend.”

  “Yes. He is.” She looked like she might cry or leave or both. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I have meetings, Tyler. Please, take me back to my car.”

  If this were a movie, they would talk about all they’d missed and the moments from yesterday when they were sure the world would stop turning if they didn’t see each other, hear each other’s voices. But this was not a movie. Tyler’s busted shoulder and Sami’s Facebook pictures told him that much. He stood and went to her. For another breathless moment he looked into her eyes—once more before the moment passed altogether—“I’ll always be sorry.”

  “I know.” Her anger eased and gradually her expression became resigned, closed off. She looked at his arm, at the brace. “Are you healing?”

  “No.” A quick pain sliced through his shoulder. He resisted the urge to react. “I need an operation.” This part was the most difficult of all. He wasn’t a kid and yet here he was without insurance, without a real home or a career. “I’m saving up.”

  A look of disbelief tightened her expression. “Your team isn’t paying for it?”

  “No. My contract didn’t cover injuries.” He didn’t want to get into the reason why, and thankfully she didn’t ask. The conversation was humiliating enough. “I’ll get there. I’m not worried. Sometime this spring, probably.”

  “What about your parents?” Sami was still clearly shocked. “Won’t they help?”

  One more layer of reality he’d rather not expose. But what did it matter now? She might as well know exactly how far he’d sunk. Then she could go back to Arnie with a full heart. A sigh rattled from his chest and he faced the ocean. “I haven’t talked to my parents in years. They have no way to contact me even if they wanted to.”

  “Tyler!” She sounded like maybe this detail might’ve been the worst of all. “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, well.” He looked at her again, the walls firmly in place. “If you could’ve heard how my dad talked to me last time we spoke, you would’ve cut ties, too. They only loved me if I could play ball. Once I messed that up, they didn’t want me.”

  Sami folded her arms in front of her, as if her stomach hurt. “So you thought . . . I was like that, too?”

  “I was wrong.” He wanted to be kind, but he also wanted to wrap up the visit. “It doesn’t matter now. That was a lifetime ago.” He started to walk toward his car. “Come on. You have work to do.”

  She allowed a great deal of space between them as they headed to the car and climbed in. On the ride back, she looked out her window and didn’t say a word. Fine, he thought. Silence is better. No sense making small talk. Not when he knew now that she had loved him all along. He had made a mess of every part of his life—no question.

  But this most of all: losing Sami Dawson.

  He drove her back to Merrill Place and pulled into an empty spot. He got out first and opened her door. It was over between them. For all time. But he wanted her to leave knowing the truth about his feelings. That much at least. She stood, leaving several feet between them. “I shouldn’t have come.” Her eyes met his but only briefly. “It only makes things worse.” She tried to move around him, but he blocked her way.

  “Sami,” Tyler allowed his defenses down one last time. “Please.”

  She released a sad-sounding sigh but she did as he asked. “I need to go.”

  “I never meant to disappoint you.” He put his left hand on her shoulder again. “Not now. Not ever.”

  She looked deep into his eyes, his face. “What happened to you, Tyler? How can you be okay with hiding here? Hiding from me . . . from your parents?”

  “I’m not hiding. I’m working my way back.” He pictured Virginia. “God has me here for a reason.”

  “God?” She narrowed her eyes, studying him. “I asked God to make things clear today. Whether I had a reason to tell Arnie no.” Tears gathered in her eyes again.

  “I see.” His voice fell to a whisper, all he could manage. “I have nothing to give you, Sami. Go back to him.” He touched her face, brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I want you to have a good life.”

  “You still don’t know me, Tyler.” She moved toward her car. “Maybe you never did.”

  He wanted one more hug, one more chance to hold her and remember what love felt like. But it wasn’t going to happen. He took a step back and held up his hand. Then he turned and walked with fresh purpose to the front entrance of Merrill Place. Tears stung his eyes and once he was inside, he watched her through the nearest window. Watched her drive her rented sedan away from the curb and away from him.

  With the back of his hand, he dried his cheeks and then finished his work. All he could think about was Sami, her eyes and her face, her voice as it filled his soul. The feel of her in his arms.

  He would go see Virginia later.

  First he needed to hit the gym, find a way to push through the heartache. One hour became two and two became three—more time on the stationary bike, more crunches, more squats. The longer he worked the more desperate he became to dull the ache. But there was none.

  By the time he fell into bed that night, Tyler had a feeling that as long as he lived, this new pain would never go away. The pain of knowing he could’ve made things right, the ache of missing his opportunity, the hurt of knowing she belonged to someone else. And the painful reality of losing Sami Dawson not once.

  But twice.

  24

  THE ANSWER CAME TO Sami all at once, before her flight touched down in Los Angeles. Things with Tyler had been over for a long time. She had learned that much on her trip. He made no statements of love or longing, no intention of fighting for her. As much as the truth hurt, Sami would always be glad she’d looked him up, glad for their talk—no matter how sad. Because without it she wouldn’t have known what to do next.

  The time had come to break up with Arnie Bell.

  She waited until that Friday night—because Arnie was too busy to meet sooner. That night they had an early dinner with her grandparents, and Sami wondered if maybe he would stay friends with them after tonight. Probably. The three of them had so much in common: their belief that the world’s problems could be solved through politics, and that goodness and money always followed strong, proper people, educated people.

  Arnie talked about his medical case over filet mignon and a $200 bottle of Bordeaux. Sami’s grandparents hung on every word. Sami didn’t drink, and she barely touched her steak. Her eyes kept drifting to the window and the ocean view beyond.

  All she could think about was what was coming. She remembered her conversation with Mary Catherine the night she came home from Florida.

&n
bsp; Her roommate had been doing yoga in the TV room when Sami found her. Sami took a spot on the sofa a few feet away. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Perfect.” Mary Catherine was mid-stretch, her back arched, face toward the ceiling. “Talk to me.” She settled into a cross-legged position. Her green eyes were instantly engaged. “Tell me you saw him. Yes?”

  “I did.”

  Mary Catherine had squealed. “How did it go?”

  “Not good.” Sami hadn’t wanted to rehash her time with Tyler. “He’s moved on. There’s nothing between us.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it would do. “That’s not what I want to tell you.”

  “Okay.” Her roommate blinked. “What’s up?”

  “It’s over with Arnie. I realized it on the flight home.”

  “Really?” Mary Catherine leaned forward.

  “I wouldn’t have met with Tyler if I was happy.” Sami shrugged. “If I was sure about Arnie.”

  “True.” Mary Catherine had looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve been doubting things with him for a long time.” Sami felt peace about her decision. Then and now.

  “Samantha?”

  She jumped and turned her attention to Arnie. “Sorry.”

  “You do this all the time lately.” He laughed, clearly embarrassed as he looked from Sami’s grandparents back to her. “Could you try to stay focused?”

  “Definitely.” She sat up straighter. Her steak was getting cold. Maybe if she focused on eating she could stay with the conversation. Two bites later she gave up. She wasn’t hungry. If only she could fast-forward through this dinner to the difficult conversation to come. She was ready for things to be over.

  Her grandmother was looking strangely at her, a piercing sort of look. She glanced down at Sami’s blouse and made a subtle pointing motion. Sami looked down and saw the problem. She had a breadcrumb there. With a quick brush of her fingers she restored the perfection of her image. Her grandmother smiled and gave a slight nod.

  All attention was back on Arnie. “This case could shape medical law for a generation.” He looked at Sami’s grandfather, his eyebrows raised. “Can you imagine? Me in charge of a case like that?”

  “Absolutely.” Her grandfather took his wine glass and swirled the deep red liquid in a way that showed his experience. “You’ll be in greater and grander arenas every year, Arnie. I’ve always believed that.” He gave Sami a functional smile. “Samantha is blessed to know you.”

  Was he serious? Sami clenched her fists beneath the table. She’d had about enough. If she could, she’d step outside and call Tyler. Just one more time. She’d tell him how grateful she was for her time with him because of one thing: his questions about Arnie had brought her to this.

  Finally after a round of tiramisu, the dinner ended. Once again Arnie was looking at her, waiting for her response. Sami had no idea what she was supposed to say. “I’m tired.” She smiled appropriately at her grandparents and then at Arnie. “Let’s say good night.”

  “All right, then.” Her grandfather looked ready to call it a night, too. He kissed Sami on the cheek and shook Arnie’s hand. “Next week? Same place?”

  “Wonderful.” Arnie looked a little off-balance as he bid Sami’s grandma good night. As if he could sense the trouble ahead. Not until they were both inside his car did he turn to her. His expression proved he was completely baffled. “Lately every dinner is like this. You’re barely here.”

  “I know.” She smiled, but she could feel the sadness in it. “It’s my fault. Can we talk somewhere?”

  He looked back at the restaurant, his tone sarcastic. “I thought we just tried that.”

  “I mean alone. Just the two of us.” Sami didn’t get angry. This was her fault. She hadn’t been honest with him and now he deserved more than a quick breakup in the car.

  “This late?” Arnie looked at her, his expression puzzled. As if she had suggested they go skinny-dipping at the Santa Monica pier.

  “Yes.” She thought for a moment. “How about the Starbucks on Third Street? The one at Barnes & Noble.”

  “That’s fine.” He turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll valet.”

  Arnie always worried about Santa Monica at night. But it was only seven o’clock on a Friday. Hardly the most dangerous hour. They valet-parked at a hotel a block away and walked to the coffee shop. Arnie linked arms with her and walked on the outside of the sidewalk. Always a gentleman, she thought. He won’t have trouble finding the right girl.

  “It’s nice tonight. Cooler.” He smiled at her.

  Sami wanted to blink and be out of this scene, finished with it. How could he make small talk when clearly she had something serious on her mind? They walked inside and headed to the counter. Arnie looked at her. “The usual, I assume?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” She felt colder than usual. Goosebumps rose on both her arms despite her black cashmere turtleneck. She stood to the side and watched him order.

  “Two grande drips. Plain black.” Arnie pulled out his wallet.

  Suddenly Sami didn’t want the usual. Not now. “Hold on.” She stepped up. “I’ll get a tall pumpkin spice latte.”

  “What?” He looked back at her, his brow lowered, obviously confused by her behavior. “Samantha, that’s loaded with sugar.”

  “Actually, make it a grande.” She smiled politely at the barista. “Please.”

  Arnie’s expression changed, as if to say he wasn’t going to argue but clearly he didn’t agree with her choice. They took their drinks to a small table near the window. “Try not to change your order like that. It’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s fine.” Sami felt herself relax. This was the right thing to do. She couldn’t have been more certain. “People change their orders all the time.” She wrapped her freezing fingers around her hot cup. “Thanks. For making time to talk.”

  “I didn’t really have a choice. The way you’ve been acting.” He sat back, his look slightly condescending. “Let’s make it quick. Then we can watch The Office back at your apartment.” He checked the time on his phone. “If it doesn’t get too late.”

  Poor Arnie. Sami studied him. How had she ever thought the two of them had anything in common? “Here it is.” She exhaled. If only her fingers would stop trembling. “Arnie . . . I don’t think it’s working. You and me.”

  For several seconds he only looked at her, as if she’d spoken in French. “That’s what this is about?” He released the slightest chuckle. “You’re doubting us?”

  “Yes.” She suddenly realized that he hadn’t even asked her about her time in Florida. Nothing whatsoever about her business trip. She sipped her coffee. “I saw Tyler Ames when I was in Florida.”

  Arnie didn’t need to smirk to convey how he felt about Tyler. But he did it anyway. “I heard he got cut.” He leaned his forearms on the table, his look pointed. “How’s that working out for him?”

  She didn’t want this to get ugly. “It’s working fine. Tyler doesn’t need baseball.”

  “So that’s why we’re having this talk? You have feelings for your old boyfriend?”

  Arnie cared a little. Otherwise he wouldn’t have looked up Tyler’s status since the last time they’d talked. Sami waited until the tension between them faded a little. Finally she drew a steadying breath. “This isn’t about Tyler.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Arnie spoke louder than before. “What have I done wrong? Tell me.”

  “Don’t raise your voice. Please.” She had never seen this side of him. As if he was playing lawyer with her. “I’m not serious enough for you, Arnie. I feel like I’m acting.”

  That seemed to put Arnie a little at ease. He settled back in his seat. “I’m listening.”

  “You’re wonderful, Arnie. You’re smart and accomplished. You really might be president of the United States one day.” She reached one hand across the small wooden table. “I believe that.”

  He looked at her hand for a long moment and t
hen finally took it. “Thank you.” The fight seemed to leave him just a little. “That helps.”

  Sami had a suspicion that in the end this would be easier for Arnie than he thought. But she didn’t want to say so. The tension between them had already faded considerably. “I just need a change. I’m sorry.”

  “You think serious is a bad thing?” Arnie released her hand and leaned back, putting both hands on his coffee. “Too many people aren’t serious. We’ve talked about that.”

  “I know. And we do have The Office—which isn’t exactly serious.”

  “Right.” Arnie didn’t smile. “I mean, it’s okay to laugh. But people in this country are too frivolous. They’re fascinated with Twitter and Facebook—dissolving their attention spans to fractions of what they once were.” He took a breath. “You were never like that. It’s the reason I fell in love with you.”

  The comment hurt. He had fallen in love with her seriousness? The mere thought of that made her want to run out the door and never look back. Instead she sipped her drink and studied him. Arnie meant the words as a positive. “Thank you.” She found a slight smile. “I’m glad you see me as concerned about society. Really.”

  “Not only that, obviously.” He rolled his eyes as if he’d been trapped. “You’re a beautiful girl, Samantha. Intelligent, poised. From a good family. Perfect for someone like me.”

  She wouldn’t get angry. He was still trying to compliment her. “I appreciate that.” She set her elbows on the table and leaned closer, her voice softer than before. “But I need my freedom. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

  His expression darkened. He brought one leg up and crossed it over his knee. “I make you feel that way?”

  “Yes. You don’t mean to. It’s just . . .” Sami let her hands fall to her lap. At least she wasn’t freezing anymore. “It’s over, Arnie. I don’t know what else to say.”

  He sipped his coffee, and for nearly a minute neither of them said anything. “If it’s okay, I’d like to stay in touch with your grandparents. They’re very influential. I appreciate their interest in my career.”