Here for You

by Pat Simmons

  Rachel had too much down time on her hands. Maybe the NFL Draft Experience tomorrow would rejuvenate her. She caught sight of a plane taking off from the airport and suddenly wished she were on it, going somewhere far away from the emptiness of losing someone.

  With her condo building loaded with amenities—library, game room, pool, shops, theater—there was no reason she should be bored. Rachel picked up her phone to call Kym. For some odd reason, Nicholas came to mind, and she thought about calling him. It wasn’t the first time, but she stopped herself.

  What did he care about her? He had done his ministry and had probably moved on to the next needy soul. Rachel really did like him as a person and enjoyed his presence, but they had two different lifestyles. “Exactly,” she told herself and stood. She waved good night to Batman and went inside to get ready for bed. She would need her energy for Draftville.

  The next day, Rachel left work early, pumping herself up with the excitement that surrounded her in Nashville. She had just walked into her condo when Jacqui called.

  “Girl, it’s going to be crazy fun. I’m spending the night with you—just saying—rather than trying to squeeze through traffic to drive home.”

  Rachel shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. They each had a set of the other’s house keys for emergencies. “You got a spare key.”

  “The draft doesn’t start until eight and goes until midnight, so we can hang out at the NFL Draft Experience near Nissan Stadium…”

  Rachel couldn’t drive past the stadium or watch a Nissan commercial without thinking of Nicholas. Then she always found herself smiling.

  “There’s this stage where we can get autographs from some of the Titans, so dress to work it,” Jacqui reminded her. She was not one to have one strand of hair out of place or nail polish chipped.

  Possessing the baby-sister syndrome, Rachel knew how to get her way, and she had learned how to get attention from the opposite sex. Dubbed the “accessory queen” by Tabitha and Kym, Rachel could sass up any attire, even in a hard hat and yellow construction vest. Rachel always looked her best. “I’ve got this.”

  Half an hour later after she showered and changed, Rachel scrutinized her makeup, then brushed her hair to the side. Next, she adjusted her big hoops earrings—her signature accessory. Finally, she slipped into her designer skinny jeans and half boots and donned her Tennessee Titans jersey. What little Rachel learned about football came from attending Super Bowl parties, so she knew when to cheer and when to yell at the referees.

  Once Jacqui arrived, the two wasted no time in leaving for Lower Broadway and taking in every angle of the NFL Draft Experience. Local restaurants had set up food tents, so they grabbed snacks as they maneuvered through the crowds in search of the autograph stage.

  Jacqui nudged her. “Glad you came?” She lifted a knowing brow.

  Rachel playfully shoved her back as she munched on a veggie burrito. “You were right.”

  “See? Your best friend knows best.”

  “And this madhouse is going on until Saturday?” Rachel said as they strolled into the center to find their seats for the first picks. Families grinned in anticipation of team reps ready to make some athlete’s dream come true.

  “It’s showtime,” Jacqui said as she wiggled in her seat and craned her neck to watch the Arizona Cardinals make their first draft pick, then the picks were nonstop as each team announced their first-round choices.

  While the Denver Broncos were announcing their choices, Rachel and Jacqui decided to take a quick potty break since the Titans’ picks weren’t until the nineteenth spot.

  Near the concession stand, the two ran into familiar faces and chatted until someone caught Rachel’s eye. She blinked as her heart danced at the same moment as his eyes connected with hers.

  “Nicholas Adams,” Rachel whispered. As he walked in her direction, she began to meet him halfway. “What are you doing here?”

  “Rachel,” he said in a low, deep voice that seemed to project above the other noise. “You look…stunning, and I happen to like football.”

  She blushed, something she rarely did when men complimented her. She usually owned it and responded with a saucy smile. “Thank you. You look amazing too.”

  He chuckled. “I doubt that. The only men staring me down are those who are wishing they had your attention.”

  They were quiet as they watched each other. “You haven’t called me,” he said in an accusatory tone that almost sounded like he was wounded.

  He had no idea how many times she’d wanted to. Rachel glanced away, embarrassed, then exhaled. “I know.”

  “Why?” He gave her a penetrating stare, then folded his arms in a stance that indicated he would wait for her answer.

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” she said honestly. “I figured you moved to the next person on the prayer list.” She didn’t mention Mother Jenkins had called her twice to check on her.

  “Bother me.” Unfolding his arms, Nicholas slipped his hands into his pockets. He smiled, and his dimples made an appearance.

  She smiled too.

  “I like those dimples,” he said, complimenting her.

  “I like yours too.” Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted around them, and Rachel jumped, but Nicholas didn’t take his eyes off her to investigate.

  An excited fan walked by, shouting to anyone who would listen, “The Titans picked Xavier Nelson!”

  Nicholas gave the guy a high five. “That linebacker from Alabama is a good choice.” Then he turned his attention back to Rachel. His eyes sparkled. “See, I can multitask.”

  He had a magnetism Rachel found hard to pull away from, but she didn’t want him to miss another highlight. “I guess I’d better let you go so you can enjoy the draft,” Rachel said, but she really didn’t want him to go. Until this moment, she hadn’t known how much she had missed seeing him and hearing his voice.

  “I am enjoying myself just fine.” He reached out and took her hand. His touch left her fingers tingling.

  Another guy approached Nicholas and cleared his throat. Although they resembled each other, Rachel thought Nicholas didn’t seem happy with the man’s presence.

  “This is my brother, Karl Adams,” Nicholas said in an annoyed manner, never taking his eyes off Rachel.

  “Nice to meet you,” Karl said with a sly grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows in curiosity, and Nicholas gave his brother side-eye, his nostrils flaring.

  “You have my deepest sympathies about your aunt,” his brother added.

  Of course, her aunt’s passing. Why was she disappointed that Nicholas hadn’t mentioned anything flattering about her? She exhaled. “It was nice meeting you, Karl, and good seeing you again, Nicholas.” She turned to leave, but he touched her arm. Rachel stopped herself from shivering, but that didn’t stop goose bumps from popping up.

  “Call me, Rachel.” His tone was gentle with a hint of a plea.

  “O-okay.” She was the first to walk away, and she could feel his eyes on her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw she was wrong. It was different admirers who watched and winked at her, but she was only attracted to Nicholas Adams. How had the women at his church let him stay single this long? Rachel was curious to find out.

  Chapter 10

  Nicholas had done exactly what he heard God tell him to do—pray for Rachel and be there for her because she would need comfort. But in the process, he had developed an attraction. She may be coping and ready to move on, but Nicholas couldn’t go forward. Seeing her again at the NFL Draft had recharged his fascination.

  Rachel Knicely was unforgettable. In less than sixty seconds, he had catalogued her every nuance—hair brushed to the side, flawless skin, seductive lashes, and delicate dimples. She had made the Titans’ sportswear look fashionable.

  Yet nothing moved Nicholas mor
e than staring into Rachel’s eyes and seeing a glimpse of light among the lingering darkness.

  “Hello, hello?” His brother’s voice pulled him back into the present, in Karl’s living room. “You’ve got to stop zoning out on me like that, man!” He seemed annoyed.

  Nicholas frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Help me to understand why you’re moping around. You’re the one who said women who chase you are a turnoff and you’d rather do the chasing, so…” Karl threw his arms up in the air. “I guess you’d better put on your best pair of running shoes, Bro, and chase.”

  Nicholas squinted and stroked the hairs on his chin.

  “I stopped counting the number of times I commented on a play in this baseball game and your reply was ‘Why hasn’t she called?’”

  Had he been thinking out loud? Nicholas sighed and shook his head. “I really don’t know what to do.”

  “Yes, you do. Call her.”

  “And say what?” Nicholas stood and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. Frustrated, he glanced out the window.

  “Do I have to send you verbiage via text? Didn’t look like you needed help when I saw you talking to her. On second thought, I think you two basically stared at each other. And you weren’t the only one. There were gawkers.”

  “I know. She’s beautiful and probably considers me just another admirer.”

  “Would you stop pacing my floor? You’re hurting my neck. Sit down! Get a grip.” Karl waited as Nicholas complied. “Remember when I was on the softball team?”

  “Yep.” Nicholas nodded. “You busted your knee trying to steal home. The rep told you to stay at second base, but no, not my hardheaded brother. I cringed when I saw the play. I could tell you were hurt bad, but you were holding it in.” He laughed.

  “Hey, I wasn’t afraid to admit I was in pain. It did hurt, and if I had been a little boy, I’d have cried out for our mother to kiss it and make it better. Ava and I were dating then, and I couldn’t hide my pain. I told her I needed her to hold my hand, and knowing she was there made me feel better.” He paused.

  “You know you’re grinning, right?” Nicholas said and nudged his brother. “Now who is zoning out? What does your physical pain have to do with my mental suffering?”

  Karl grunted. “I confessed to her that when I was weak, her strength made me stronger. It was the beginning of me seeing her as more than a good friend, more of a helpmate. After I proposed, she told me my honesty and vulnerability had swayed her to say yes.”

  Now, Nicholas grunted. “My little brother trying to give me a lesson on love.”

  “You better take note, Bro. I’ve got a wife and you don’t. Rachel has only seen the minister side of you, which is so overrated by women.” Karl shook his head. “Show her you. Call Rachel and be honest about your feelings. If she has no interest in a relationship beyond prayer, at least you’ll know.”

  “I’m afraid to know,” Nicholas confessed.

  “Minister Adams, you of all people know God can’t use no scary people. You know what God told Gideon when they were going into battle.”

  “And you know that has nothing to do with God fighting my sorry little internal conflict.” That passage in the seventh chapter in the Book of Judges was deep.

  “Well, judging from the torture on your face, you’re deep in the trenches of a major battle. You better man up!” Karl said.

  Later that night, back at home, Nicholas gave more thought to what his brother had said. What real man would show a woman his weakness? It hadn’t worked for Samson. Karl’s pep talk faded every time Nicholas spied his phone. Nah, he wasn’t about to show his hand.

  * * *

  The following week, Nicholas had lost count of the church members who were admitted to the hospital. It seemed like dozens of them were ill.

  Add the new ones to the numbers of those who had been homebound for a while, such as Lila Dickerson. She hadn’t been at church in more than a year due to her ailments. She had a sweet spirit and an encouraging word for everyone. Yet Nicholas always dreaded the visit, and today, he was weary and not in the mood to overlook her family’s rudeness—not this evening. He hiked up the wooden stairs to the porch and rang the doorbell.

  As he waited, Nicholas scanned the neighborhood. This house and the others on the block lacked curb appeal. When the locks clicked and the door cracked open, Nicholas turned around. As expected, Herbert, the woman’s oldest son, who lived with her, stood there with a sneer.

  “So you’re back again, huh? I told you my mama don’t need your prayers unless it’s going to make her walk again.” He motioned to slam the door in Nicholas’s face, but not today.

  Nicholas wedged his shoe in the opening to prevent it. “You may not appreciate my visit, but I’m sure your mother does. Her health is in God’s hands.”

  “Then why are you here?” He smirked and twisted the toothpick in his mouth.

  Nicholas kept eye contact with the man who had him by a couple of inches and fifty pounds and who seemed untrustworthy. While Nicholas calculated what moves would be necessary for him to be declared the winner going up against this man, his mind recited Scriptures about humility, peace, holiness, and turning the other cheek.

  “To remind your mother that her church family loves her as well as the Lord,” he argued and then silently prayed, God, You got me here. Help me to do Your work.

  They stared each other down until Herbert took a step back. “I’ll let you see her this time.” It was a game he played every time. “Don’t make too much noise praying and singing back up in there.”

  Herbert humphed, then led the way to a back bedroom where Lila Dickerson greeted Nicholas with twinkling eyes. The atmosphere changed immediately once he stepped into the room.

  After they greeted each other, Nicholas took his seat and opened his Bible.

  “You going to sing me my favorite song?” she asked with an expectant expression.

  “Of course.” Nicholas began the old Douglas Miller favorite “My Soul Is Anchored,” and Lila Dickerson joined in off-key. At one time, no one could carry a note like her, but a stroke had taken its toll on her body.

  “Now…Minister Adams, I sure would like to hear about my new body.” Eager anticipation glowed on her face.

  Nicholas smiled, knowing some things never changed whenever he visited Sister Dickerson. She requested the same song and Scripture. Nicholas recited the passage from 1 Corinthians 15, beginning at verse 53: “‘For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality…’”

  “That’s right,” she said and bobbed her head as best she could from her position in bed when he finished. “Now, please pray for me, and my knucklehead son…”

  “I heard that!” Herbert barked from the other side of the closed door.

  “Good. You should be in here with us,” she said, fussing back.

  You tell him, Nicholas thought and smiled at the elderly woman before bowing his head. They prayed until they felt the presence of God filling the room.

  Soon after a short period of worship, Nicholas left on a good note. Whenever he had victorious moments, he liked to share them with his brother or dad. This time, Rachel came to mind. He wanted to talk to her—not about Sister Brownlee or her mourning but him and her. Patience had no peace where Rachel Knicely was concerned. It was time for him to take the first step.

  Chapter 11

  Sunday evening, Rachel lounged on her balcony, having run out of tasks to occupy her mind. With the NFL Draft Experience over, many tourists had left Nashville, and there was room to breathe again. She had spoken to her sisters via Skype—a weekly routine they had started as Aunt Tweet’s caregivers to keep one another updated on her condition. Now, it had become ingrained in them, so the sisters continued the tradition.

  Attending the draft had been a one-of-a-kind experience, bu
t the highlight had been seeing Nicholas. She always saw him in a spiritual role, not as a man doing everyday things, out with his brother instead of a girlfriend. Had she subconsciously put him on a pedestal? Not only had his presence surprised her, but he had encouraged her to reenter social life post-Aunt Tweet.

  What was Nicholas Adams’s story, and why did she care? His interest in her was strictly from a ministering point, right? When she told Jacqui and her sisters that, they all told her to open her eyes. Did she want to keep Nicholas tucked away in a box for when she had an emotional breakdown, or did she want to open the box wider and get to know more about the man with the mesmerizing eyes, sexy smile, and kind heart?

  Nicholas had inspired her to pick up her Bible, and she brought it outside onto the balcony with her. She read a couple of random passages, but the meaning seemed to escape her. Everything had seemed to make sense when Nicholas read them to Aunt Tweet. Nicholas. She smiled.

  Closing her eyes, Rachel welcomed the light breeze. She had just started to doze when her phone rang. Grabbing it, she blinked at the caller ID. Had she dreamed the man up? “Hello.”

  “Did I wake you?” Was it her imagination or was his voice always this deep of a baritone?

  “Yep, from boredom.” Rachel chuckled and he did too as she snuggled under her throw blanket.

  “I need honesty from you.”

  “Have I been dishonest?” She frowned.

  “I don’t know.” He paused as she waited for him to explain. “Help me here. Why won’t you call me?”

  “I—I—I,” she stuttered.

  “I can understand the lady waiting for the guy to call and show interest, but I need a sign from you that you’re interested.”

  Rachel’s heart skipped a couple of beats. “I know there are probably plenty of women who attend your church who are attracted to you.”

  “There is a difference between being attracted and feeling a connection. What about you? You have no shortage of male attention, and I was reminded of that at the NFL Draft.”