No Easy Catch (Carmen Sisters)

by Pat Simmons

  The look of surprise on her beautiful but tired face when he acted as her doorman was priceless. He braced himself for the impact as she flew into his arms, then laughed as she squeezed him with all her might, and they rocked from side to side. “Now that is a welcome-home greeting any man would envy.”

  Few words were spoken as he indulged in her loving, until she abruptly broke free of his embrace. He frowned at the loss of contact. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “You,” she ordered, pointing to the door. “Go home.”

  Rahn’s jaw dropped. “Huh? A few seconds ago you were glad to see me.”

  “And a few seconds later, I still am, but I need a good night’s sleep so I can look my best for my breakfast date with this good-looking man.” She kissed him, then escaped inside an elevator. “Call me when you get home,” she yelled as the doors closed.

  “Hey, I’m that good-looking man,” he tried to tell her, but she was already in flight to her floor.

  “Miss Carmen was wrong for that.” Mr. Chapman snickered.

  Rahn stood there for a minute, shaking his head. “I know, but I wouldn’t love her any other way.” With a wave good-bye to the guard, he strolled outside, turned around, and counted the fourteen floors up to the dark window of her condo.

  Shoving his hands into his pants’ pockets, he waited. Seconds after the lights flickered on, Shae appeared as a goddess in the window. Rahn relaxed and grinned. She made a production of blowing him a kiss. In turn, he lifted his hand and moved to the right, pretending to catch it like a baseball in his glove. Whatever she threw his way, he wouldn’t drop the ball on it.

  ***

  The next morning, Shae was downright giddy as she talked to Brecee on speakerphone while getting dressed for her morning date. Anything she did with Rahn was exciting, as long as they were together. “We’re having an inspirational breakfast.”

  “Judging from the way the family’s been raving, you’ve definitely got a winner,” Brecee said. “I’m so glad you got back in the game. Pun intended, if it worked.”

  Chuckling at her sister’s sports allusion, Shae brushed a light bronzer on her face. “Yeah, you really hit that one out of the park.” She and Brecee chuckled at her silliness.

  “Please. Mine was better,” Brecee argued, then added, “The happiness I hear in your voice proves my point that God still has good men out there for us sanctified sisters, and I hope I’m next.”

  Us? Shae froze, surprised by Brecee’s statement. She had always thought her sister was too ambitious to surrender to love. “I pity the poor man. He’ll be trying to tame a tiger, with your in-your-face loose lips. I’ve got to go.”

  Humming a familiar gospel tune, Shae gathered her hair on top of her head. With the weather forecast predicting heat and humidity, she chose a colorful sundress and sexy sandals to highlight her recent pedicure. She scrutinized her looks from different angles. By the time she was satisfied with her reflection, Rahn’s ringtone alerted her to his call. She answered in a singsong tone, “I’ll be ready and waiting!”

  Silence. She frowned when he didn’t interject one of his witty sayings. “Is everything okay?”

  “N-no…”

  His stuttering scared her. “What’s wrong?”

  “My sister called. My mother was just rushed to the hospital by ambulance. She was unconscious.”

  Shae gasped. “Oh, no! Is she okay? What happened?”

  Rahn sighed heavily. “Baby, I don’t know, but I’ve got to take the next flight out.”

  “Of course.” He needs me. Since Shae had chatted with his mother several times on FaceTime, she hoped her presence would be welcomed. She would have taken the day off, but that wasn’t possible during February, May, or November sweeps, especially since Channel Five had edged out Channel Seven in ratings. Since then, everybody at KMMD-TV had been working hard to regain the lead. No vacations were scheduled; even sick days were questioned.

  But she had to be there for him. “I’ll come with you. It’s early enough that I can get back in time for work.”

  23

  You can’t. You’d never make it back in time,” Rahn said, remembering the wise adage “The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.” “Planes are definitely not the fastest way to travel when you really need to get there.”

  Rahn couldn’t keep the frustration from seeping into his voice. “I’m catching the first flight out, but it has a layover in Atlanta. So, I’ll arrive in Richmond one hour earlier than the next nonstop out of here.”

  “Do you need me to take you to the airport?”

  He was touched by her offer as he exited onto I-270. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m already on the way.” Plus, she had no idea where he lived.

  “Then I’ll meet you at the airport before you go through security.” She continued to grasp at straws, and he loved her determination to be there for him. Her concern was comforting, and Rahn craved a moment with her, even for thirty seconds. But where? He knew she wouldn’t want a public display of affection. He wracked his brain. “How about the cell phone lot? That way, I’ll be—”

  “See you in twenty minutes tops.” Click.

  Even without her saying it, Rahn felt her love, and he needed it, because his thoughts were jumbled. Lord, I can’t even pray right now. Rahn hadn’t cried since his father had died. God, help me not to break down before Shae sees me. Driving on autopilot, Rahn found himself at Lambert Airport in no time. He followed the directions to the cell-phone lot, where he was surprised to find Shae already waiting.

  She got out of her car as he pulled in next to her. If his mother hadn’t fallen sick, nothing would have kept him away from her. She looked gorgeous—lilac was her color—and her smile was bright and warm as she opened her arms. Rahn stepped out of his car and walked into her embrace. It was the soothing balm he craved—her touch, her whispered words, and her sweet fragrances, which normally excited him but now seemed to calm his inner turmoil.

  Reluctantly, Rahn pulled away from her. “Sorry to cancel.” He gritted his teeth. “It’ll be more than a week before we can see each other again. When I got the news, I had my agent take care of a two-day leave of absence request for this family emergency.”

  “Shh.” She brushed a kiss against his lips. “You only have one mother. Go see about her. James five, verse sixteen, says, ‘Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.’ Know that I’m praying fervently for her recovery and your peace.” Closing her eyes and bowing her head, Shae whispered, “Father God, in the mighty name of Jesus, we come boldly to Your throne of grace, where we might obtain mercy…”

  Rahn doubted he could utter any words without breaking down, so he just listened. After losing his father, he didn’t want to think about his mother not being in his life.

  “Jesus, we know the power of life and death is in Your tongue. We ask that You command the condition to be removed from Mrs. Maxwell’s body. Raise her up, give her a testimony of praise, and comfort Rahn’s heart. Give him peace in this storm, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Rahn said, his voice cracking. “You give me peace.” He rubbed her arms, not taking his eyes off her.

  “Everything is going to be all right.”

  He nodded. “I know. I keep telling myself that. When my dad died of a brain aneurysm seven years ago, my sister, Phyllis, and I became concerned about mom’s medical history. She’s borderline diabetic. Maxwell might be a big name in some circles, but our family is small. Honestly, we have more friends than family. I want to change that.” He was about to disclose something he had never shared with any woman. “When I marry, I want to have at least three or four children as my contribution to the Maxwell dynasty.”

  “That sounds like a good number. I hope your wife agrees to that.” Shae did a poor job of keeping a straight face.

  Her tease made him smile. “I think I can convince her.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll be rooting for you.” She giggled. “I can’t imagine a happy childhood without more than one sibling. With three sisters and two close cousins, we had each other’s backs. We still do. It’s up to Victor and Dino to carry on the Carmen name.”

  Rahn gathered her hands, brought them to his mouth, and planted soft kisses on them, then guided her arms around him. Without saying a word, he enjoyed their last embrace. “I’d better go.”

  Shae’s eyes became misty. “Remember James five sixteen. ‘The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.’”

  “I’ll remember.” Stealing one more glance at her, Rahn got back into his car. As he drove off, he braced himself for whatever bad news awaited him yet prayed for something good. Lord, I’ve confessed all my faults to You, so please hear my prayers.

  He parked in the long-term lot, slung the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder, and then, with his boarding pass in hand, cleared security. Ninety minutes later, he was fastening his seatbelt. Closing his eyes, Rahn couldn’t think about his mother being rushed to the emergency room without reflecting on his father’s final journey to the hospital. Lord, let Mom come back home.

  It seemed as if the flight had taken a day and a half before Rahn’s plane landed at Richmond International Airport. He texted Shae as soon as he was permitted to turn his cell phone on again.

  I made it, babe. Talk to you soon. Be safe on the job.

  Once he debarked from the plane, he walked through the terminal, his steps dragging with dread of the unknown—of seeing his mother in a state he didn’t want to imagine. Phyllis and her husband, Louis, were waiting for him as he rounded the corner. His big sister met him halfway and clung to him when he hugged her.

  It was the same ritual that had happened when Rahn had gone home in January after the attempted carjacking. Phyllis hadn’t wanted to let him go. With a sad expression, Louis shook his hand and patted him on the back. It was déjà vu.

  “How is she?” Rahn asked with his arm around his sister’s shoulder as they walked toward the parking garage.

  “She’s conscious. The tests showed she is no longer a borderline diabetic…she’s crossed over to full-blown diabetes. Her blood sugar level was nearly four hundred and fifty!”

  “What?” Rahn gasped, choking on his own air.

  Phyllis nodded. “Praise God she’s okay. You better believe I gave her a serious scolding about her diet and the insulin injections that she will be taking.” Petite in stature, Phyllis possessed the attitude of a giant. She didn’t mince words when it came to having her way. Even her five-year-old twins jumped at just one look from her.

  “I want to go see her right now.” Rahn had two days to talk some sense into his mother. Be it by threats or incentives, she would change her lifestyle. He needed her to be around to see those grandchildren he wanted to give her.

  Eloise Maxwell’s eyes lit up as Rahn slipped quietly into her ICU room at Virginia Commonwealth twenty long minutes later. Although the IV restricted her movements, his mother was able to lift her hand. Rahn kissed her forehead before dragging a chair closer to her bed. He felt a sense of relief that she looked better than he’d expected and that her heart monitor had a steady beat. Thank You, Jesus.

  “Mom, your options have run out. You’re past the pill stage. You must give yourself daily insulin shots.”

  She turned her head away from him like a defiant child. When she faced him again, her eyes were glossy. “I’m sorry to worry you and make you miss your games.” Her voice was weak.

  “The games will be played, whether I’m there in center field or not. I’ve only got one mother”—he recalled Shae’s phrase—“but you’ve got to take better care of yourself. Do I need to get you a live-in caregiver?”

  “Hush,” she said, gathering strength from somewhere to become indignant. “Young man, I’m very capable of taking care of myself.” Her rant seemed to drain her, so Rahn held his peace. Once she settled down, he grabbed her hand and quietly prayed as he watched her, hoping she would drift off to sleep. Of course, she didn’t.

  Rahn’s stomach growled, reminding him he was hungry. He stood and rubbed his mother’s arm, careful of her IV. “Shae is praying for you.”

  “I want to meet her,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

  “I want that, too, Mom.” He kissed her forehead, then stood over her bed as she finally dozed off. Exhaling, he exited her room and took advantage of the opportunity to speak with her doctor, who happened to be coming to check on her.

  “Your mother will live a long, healthy life if she makes some drastic changes to her diet and monitors her blood sugar levels,” the doctor assured him. “She admitted she hadn’t been doing that, and she is going to need someone to hold her accountable. She was lucky this time.”

  “My mother was blessed,” Rahn corrected the physician. He and his sister would double-team their mother to follow the doctor’s orders. After thanking the doctor, Rahn headed toward the exit of the intensive care unit.

  As he was about to push the button to open the double doors, a familiar voice grabbed his attention. It belonged to St. Louis native Joe Buck, who had interviewed him many times in the broadcast booth after a game.

  Rahn paused and listened to the sports announcer give a play-by-play on a baseball game against the Colorado Rockies. He was reminded that the Cardinals would be playing without him for the next few days.

  Since the curtain wasn’t completely shielding the patient, Rahn peeped inside the room, expecting to see an old soul. To his surprise, a young man who looked barely a teenager was hooked up to numerous machines.

  Although the patient seemed drugged, he made eye contact with Rahn, pointed at him, and struggled to speak. His movement got the attention of an older man posted at his bedside, who gawked at Rahn. With two pairs of eyes staring at him, Rahn stepped closer to the room but didn’t enter. “Hello.”

  “Are you…are you Rahn Maxwell?” the man asked.

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “Really?” The patient struggled to prop himself up on his elbows.

  “Watch it, Son,” his father cautioned him, then motioned for Rahn to enter.

  Rahn approached the bed. “How ya doing, buddy? What’s your name?”

  “Benjamin…I’m sick,” he said, speaking slowly and slurring his words.

  “He had a sickle cell episode a few days ago, on his eighteenth birthday,” Benjamin’s father explained.

  Eighteen? He definitely didn’t look his age. Rahn had never met anyone with the disease, which was surprising, since it affected people of color at a higher rate than other ethnic groups. Benjamin seemed fragile. “Get better, buddy. I need all the fans I can get,” Rahn said, trying to cheer him up.

  He thought about the three autographed baseballs he traveled with, to give to any young fans he might encounter. It was one of those odd habits his dad had passed down to him. Rahn had continued the tradition as a way to honor his father’s memory following his death. “A young child could become a fan for life,” Ronald Maxwell would always say. Even some of Rahn’s teammates had started doing the same thing. Benjamin would get one.

  Pray for him, the Lord spoke to Rahn’s heart, giving him an overwhelming yearning for the teenager.

  Me? He had no fancy words, as a minister would, so he hesitated. Praying at home behind closed doors, with Shae, or at her church, in unison with others, didn’t qualify him to publicly pray for a stranger.

  Pray for him. God’s command was clear.

  Rahn swallowed, then decided to ask the father for permission. “Sir, do you mind if we say a little prayer?” When the man consented, Rahn took a deep breath and bowed his head. He waited. Was Jesus going to give him the words to say, or would He direct him to intercede with tongues?

  “In the name of Jesus,” Benjamin’s father began.

  Then the words seem to flow out of Rahn: “We come before You, Lord, with thanksgiving for a new day…also for Benjamin. Jesus, we know that
Your blood works for healing and salvation. Please cover his body with Your blood and command the sickness to flee. Although we don’t know Your plan for Benjamin’s life, please give him the strength to praise You and the faith to believe in Your Word. Thank You, God, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Benjamin mumbled.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Maxwell.” Benjamin’s father wiped his eyes.

  “Thank God,” Rahn said. It was the second person he’d had to correct within an hour. Jesus, I know miracles still exist because You performed one the night You spared me. Benjamin could sure use one now. “If you would like an autographed baseball, I’ll bring you one when I return tomorrow to see my mother again,” he told Benjamin.

  Benjamin mustered a smile, but the excitement didn’t reach his eyes.

  Seems God is adding to my prayer burden, Rahn thought as he left. Not only did he have his mother on his prayer list, but now Benjamin, too. His mind was elsewhere when he joined his sister and brother-in-law in the family waiting lounge.

  Phyllis and Louis stood. “Well?” Phyllis said. “Did she seem to listen to you?”

  “I added my two cents, and I’m praying to God that He gives her a mind to want to live a long, long time. Come on. I’m drained and hungry.”

  “I’m still not used to my baby brother—”

  “He’s hasn’t been a baby since he gave up his training pants,” Louis snickered.

  Phyllis playfully stuck out her tongue at him. “I know that.” Then she ignored him, turning back to Rahn. “Anyway, I’m still getting used to you putting God in the mix of situations. I admire your sincerity. You seem so natural with your salvation and not ashamed. Momma’s scare is forcing me to up my prayer life, too.”

  “That’s all God,” Rahn said. “Plus, being with Shae has made the transition easy.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.” Phyllis smiled mischievously.

  “I can’t wait to get back to her, but I have to make sure Mom is okay first.”

  Their destination was his sister’s spacious ranch house, where Rahn had decided to stay, instead of at his own Virginia home. For this short period of time, he needed to be close to family. When he arrived, Phyllis’s twins, Julius and Julian, greeted him at the door. The babysitter squeezed past, waving good-bye.