Longing For Home

by Christine Lynxwiler

  Jake hurried into the room and claimed the last empty chair. After he’d said the blessing for the food, he looked up with a smile. “So how are the sickos?”

  “I think we’re all well,” Brandi said.

  “Just when it’s safe to breathe the air again, I have to leave.” Regret tinged his words, and his gaze settled on Brandi like a warm blanket. She suddenly knew without a doubt he hadn’t forgotten where they’d left off on the porch the other night.

  “Leave?” Brandi concentrated on buttering her roll and tried to sound casual in spite of her pounding heart.

  “Yeah, I’m heading to St. Louis to take in a few home games and see the team doc.”

  “Wow! Will you get to sit in the dugout?” Michael asked, bouncing in his chair.

  “Of course he will.” Melissa punched Michael on the arm. “He’s part of the team.”

  “Melissa, don’t hit your brother. Oh, Jake, I hope you get the news you’re looking for,” Gram said, without taking a breath between sentences.

  Jake chuckled. “Thanks, Elva. I appreciate it.”

  Brandi passed Jake the green beans and, for a minute, considered the possibility of bad news concerning his shoulder. He wouldn’t be on the road all the time anymore. He’d told her once that he’d managed to get a physical education degree in three years of college. Now there was a settled job. And they always needed coaches in California.

  Shame pierced her heart. How could she be so selfish as to hope that his dreams were ground into dust just because they didn’t coincide with hers? At the sound of Jake’s voice she pulled herself back to reality.

  “I didn’t want you to worry I was moving out without letting the management know.” His dimples flashed. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

  Brandi took a sip of her tea. When had this man gotten under her skin so badly that the thought of him leaving for a few days made her feel empty? What would it be like when he was actually gone for good?

  ❧

  Propped up against pillows, Brandi pulled another tissue from the box on her bedside table. She always cried when she watched The Wizard of Oz. How many times when she was little had she stood outside one rental house or another and clicked her heels together over and over, repeating, “There’s no place like home”?

  Too many to count. With each click she’d kept her eyes squeezed tight and focused on an image of the place she spent summers—her grandparents’ place in Southern California. But every time she’d opened her eyes, she was still in front of whatever cheap little cracker box they were living in right then.

  The credits rolled, and Brandi hummed “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” as she aimed the remote at the TV and flipped the channel button. An achingly familiar face stopped her finger in mid-push.

  “Cardinals’ fans welcomed Jake McFadden back to Busch Stadium this week, but unfortunately only as a spectator.” The still photo above the anchor’s shoulder changed to a tape of Jake smiling and signing autographs as hoards of fans gathered around him. Women reached for him as if he were Elvis.

  The announcer’s voice-over continued. “McFadden has attended several games this week, but he is in town for a re-evaluation of shoulder surgery complications that have kept him benched most of this season. Will he be back in the starting lineup soon, or is his career over? No one knows for sure, but this is what he had to say.”

  The camera zoomed to a close-up of Jake at an apparent press conference. He flashed his dimples and blushed at the complimentary remarks being yelled by the crowd, then spoke. “The doctors saw significant improvement in my shoulder. They’re very pleased with the results of my cardio training. I don’t know about y’all, but those sound like positive results to me.”

  The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping until he held up his hand. “Lord willing, I’ll be back on the mound very soon.”

  When the camera panned the audience, tears sprang to Brandi’s eyes. Hundreds of people held up signs saying things like, Come back soon! and We miss you, Jake. More than one said, We’re praying for you, Jake.

  The camera cut back to Jake, and his eyes were glistening. He cleared his throat. “Thank you all for your support. A special message before I go, for all you teens out there. Remember—if a friend offers you drugs”—he paused, but the audience finished for him, their voices booming as one—“he is NOT your friend!”

  No wonder he was determined not to lose his career. She recalled snippets of conversation about his speaking program. He was on a mission as surely as her parents were. And he’d obviously do anything to stay in that particular ball game.

  ❧

  Jake carried his suitcase up the sidewalk. It seemed as if he’d been gone forever. Would Brandi be downstairs when he came in? Had she missed him as much as he’d missed her?

  He opened the door. “Brandi?”

  “In here,” she called from the den.

  He left his suitcase in the foyer and walked into the den. She had the reservation book in front of her, and concern creased her forehead as she studied it. “Oh, hi, Jake,” she said.

  So much for his wondering if she’d missed him. Apparently she hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not much. I was looking at the schedule for the rest of October. We’re going to be pretty busy. But we have a week off for Thanksgiving.” She motioned toward the big calendar.

  He nodded. At least she wasn’t ignoring him. He walked over to look at the calendar. Was it his imagination, or did she stiffen? He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough to smell the faint scent of her shampoo.

  She turned suddenly, her blue eyes wide. Time seemed to stand still as he reached for a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. He gently tucked it behind her ear and smiled. “I missed you, Brandi.”

  She took two steps backward and offered him a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We missed you, too.” She walked toward the dining room. “And I promise I didn’t break into your room this time,” she called over her shoulder.

  Then she was gone, leaving him feeling as lonely as he had in St. Louis.

  Thirteen

  “Surely there’s somewhere we could go. A hot little spot where we could check out the night life around here and get to know each other better.” The dark-haired man flashed a brilliantly white smile and looked around the empty den. “Everyone else is in bed. No one will even realize we’re gone.”

  Brandi shook her head. About twice a month she got propositions from guests. Usually overconfident businessmen who thought she was wasting away here in the middle of nowhere pining for some male companionship. Mr. Fisher was no exception. “Thanks, anyway. I’m not much on the night life. But don’t let me stop you.” She bit back the urge to give him directions into town to the little all-night diner/donut shop the local police frequented.

  “No, it won’t be any fun by myself. C’mon, Brandi,” he pleaded and reached for her hand.

  She jerked away, thankful the reception table was between them. Up to now her lack of interest had always been met with disappointed acceptance. This man was a little more persistent. Maybe he needed her to spell it out. “Mr. Fisher, I’m not interested.”

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t smile so pretty at everyone if you’re not interested.” An ugly sneer replaced the puppy-dog pleading look so quickly Brandi almost gasped aloud. He started around the table.

  “I—” Brandi weighed her options. She could scream. Or—her hand closed over a paperweight on the desk. She could hit him.

  “I believe the lady asked you to leave.”

  Brandi stared at Jake looming in the doorway. Was it her imagination, or had her hero just stepped out of one of the black-and-white movies she loved so much?

  “She didn’t mean it. She wanted—”

  Jake strode into the room and towered over the businessman. “I’ll tell you what. You’ve got five minutes to pack and vacate the premises. Starting right”—he looked at his watch—“now
!”

  The dark-haired man gaped, and so did Brandi. Jake had stepped right off the screen of an all-night, movie-channel, classic hero extravaganza. Except he was real.

  Fisher apparently decided he was real, too, because he bolted for the stairs.

  Jake turned to Brandi. “You okay?”

  “I am now. Thanks.” He didn’t have to know her legs felt like noodles. “You seem to make a habit of rescuing me.”

  “I hope you didn’t mind my asking him to leave. You can add his room charge to my bill.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” She held up the paperweight. “I’m sure it’s cheaper for the B&B to have a vacant room than it would have been to pay for stitches to Mr. Fisher’s head.”

  Jake laughed. “You had it under control, didn’t you?”

  “Possibly, but your way of handling it was much more fun. I felt like I was watching an old John Wayne movie.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not going to start calling me Big Jake?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking more along the lines of one of his lesser-known movies—Angel and the Badman.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Bumping sounds echoed into the room from the staircase. “Sounds like our ‘pilgrim’ is packed and ready to go,” Jake drawled.

  Mr. Fisher appeared in the doorway and tossed the key on the reception desk. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “You, too,” she called as he slammed the door.

  She showed the key name tag to Jake. “Guess what room he was in?”

  Jake leaned forward to read the lettering and laughed. “Gone With the Wind. How fitting.”

  He stayed beside her as she put the key in the box.

  “Well, that little encounter got my adrenaline pumping.” Either that or her pounding heart was due to the fact that Jake was just inches from her, looking at her as if he wanted to swoop her into his arms.

  “Sounds like you need to wind down.” He grinned. “At the risk of sounding like Fisher, would you like to go for a walk?”

  More than anything. “I guess I’d better not. Thanks, though.”

  Jake nodded, disappointment clouding his eyes. “Oh, well, at least you didn’t hit me with a paperweight.” His chuckle sounded forced.

  She offered a weak smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He shifted awkwardly. “Good night then. Sleep well.”

  She bit her lip against the urge to pour out her heart to him. To explain that she too felt the connection but that she was protecting them both by not allowing their relationship to grow. Instead she said, “Good night, Jake. Thanks again,” and stared at the rug until he left the room, so he wouldn’t see her tears.

  ❧

  Jake jogged over to where Coach Carter held a stopwatch. He ran in place while the older man read the display.

  “Your cardio fitness is better than it was when you first got benched, boy.”

  “Thanks to your pushing.” Sweat ran down Jake’s face in spite of the terrycloth band he wore on his forehead.

  Coach snorted. “Thanks to your determination. I’ve never seen anybody more anxious to get back into something they were already a little tired of.”

  Jake shook his head. “Sure, I told you the lifestyle gets old after awhile. But, as I’ve also said, I want to stay in because I see the impact I can have on kids’ lives, helping them stay off drugs.” He grinned. “And if I can get a ‘God loves you’ in every once in a while, I like that even better.”

  Coach Carter nodded. “I understand. But you have your coaching degree. Have you ever thought about having a huge impact on a few instead of a little impact on many?”

  “Sure. I’ve thought about it.” Jake nodded. “But do you realize how many kids I influence?”

  “Are you sure it hasn’t stopped being about God and started being about you?” Coach asked.

  Jake frowned. “I’m positive.” If anyone else had asked him that, he’d have hit the roof, but Coach had known him his whole life. “You always said you’d tell me if I got ‘too big for my britches.’ Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  “Not at all.” Coach pulled off his Cardinals cap, smoothed his gray hair back with his hand then screwed the cap back down on his head. “Here’s what I’m gettin’ at, Jake. Is this speaking program God’s will for you, or is it your will for you? Does that make sense?”

  Jake massaged his tight shoulder. “Yeah, it makes sense. I guess we’ll find out when I go back to the doctor in a couple of months. If it’s not healed by the end of December, then it’s over.”

  “So do they think it will be?”

  “Yes, actually it’s improved a lot. Right before I left, Doc Watson told me we could add in some pitching warm-ups. He thinks I’ll be back on the field by spring training.”

  “I guess you’re excited then.”

  Jake didn’t speak for a few seconds. Except for the one night he’d taken care of the obnoxious guest for her, Brandi had barely spoken to Jake in the month since he returned from St. Louis. He should be excited about the prospect of playing again; but he had a sinking feeling that when he did, Brandi would become so distant as to be invisible in his life. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.” He punched his coach on the shoulder. “Elva tells me you two have been seeing each other. Is it serious?”

  To Jake’s surprise Coach Carter blushed. In all his years of knowing the man he had never seen him blush.

  “It could be.” Coach cleared his throat. “It will be if I have my say.”

  “That’s wonderful! Does this mean you’ll be moving to California?”

  “I would, in a heartbeat, if Elva wanted me to.”

  Jake understood that all too well. Brandi had the same effect on him, but he couldn’t afford to allow it to keep him from his goal—the goal he knew God had given him. Regardless of what Coach thought.

  ❧

  “Look, Brandi! No cane!” Gram called as she walked up the sidewalk.

  Brandi glanced up from the porch planter she was filling with bright yellow mums. She tossed her trowel down and jumped to her feet, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Gram, that’s fantastic! Look at you go!”

  When the older woman reached the porch, Brandi pulled her into a hug. “How are you feeling?”

  “I still have some pain, but I think I’m getting there. Dr. Barnes says I should be as good as new by Christmas.” Gram’s eyes sparkled. “And I’m praying he’s right.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Actually, Thanksgiving would be nice. Guess what?” Gram sat in a rocker and motioned Brandi to one.

  “What?” Brandi sat beside her with a quizzical grin. More than a missing cane was exciting Gram. Her whole face glowed. “Tell me!”

  “Ben has asked me to his sister’s for Thanksgiving.”

  Brandi leaned forward. “Really? Are you that serious?” She knew they’d been dating some, but she had no idea they were ready to meet each other’s families.

  Gram took Brandi’s hand. “I don’t know. But I’ve never really wanted to date since your grandfather died. Ben’s just”—her smile grew wider—“different. When I’m not with him, I feel incomplete.” She squeezed Brandi’s hand. “And life’s too short to feel incomplete.”

  Brandi thought of all the sappy black-and-white movies she’d watched during Jake’s long trip to St. Louis last month. Even his occasional two-day trips were almost unbearable. Yet when he was around, she refused to allow personal conversation, instead holding him at arm’s length. Gram was right. Jesus had even said He had come so people might have life and have it more abundantly. But He hadn’t said anything about coming so they might hoard it like emotional misers.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Brandi jerked her head up to see Gram, brows knitted together.

  “Child, you looked like you were a million miles away.”

  “I was just thinking about what you said.” She patted Gram’s hand. “I’m so happy for you and B
en.”

  Jake’s truck pulled into the driveway.

  Brandi gave her grandmother a speculative look. “Gram, do you think you’re up to handling things tonight?” She nodded toward the house. “Valerie’s friend, Jeannie, is sleeping over, or I’d ask her.”

  “I’ll be glad to take care of everything, honey. Are you going out?”

  Brandi eyed Jake who had started up the sidewalk. “I might be.”

  Gram laughed. “Tired of feeling incomplete?”

  “Exactly.”

  “In that case I think I’m going to go check on supper.” Gram pushed to her feet and dropped a kiss on Brandi’s cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks. I’m proud of you, too.”

  Gram slipped into the house as Jake reached the porch.

  “Did I run her off?”

  “Not exactly.” Brandi grinned at him. “I think she might have thought we needed some privacy.”

  Jake spiked an eyebrow. “Privacy? Why?”

  “I’m not sure, but she may have thought you’d be embarrassed if I asked you out in front of her.” Brandi felt her face grow hot, and she grimaced. “Or maybe she thought I would be.”

  He shook his head. “Now I’m confused. You want to run that by me again?”

  “I need to get out for a while. I thought you might like a rain check on your invitation from the night Mr. Fisher got out of hand.”

  “You want to go for a walk?” Jake asked.

  She almost laughed at the confusion in his eyes. Poor guy. He probably thought she was crazy.

  “A walk would be fine. Or dinner and a movie. Whichever you prefer.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Dinner and a movie sounds great!” He looked down at his jogging shorts and T-shirt then at his watch. “Obviously I need a shower. Would seven be okay?”