by Caryl McAdoo
April pulled on her arm. “Come on. Let’s go to work.”
Work? She didn’t want to work. She’d just spent like two years’ salary on a dress, and he’d just gone and made another cool million. She wanted to be a fan a while longer. Or even better, she’d love to get to sit with the other players’ wives and act as crazy as she wanted.
That’s what she should do. Ask him on live TV.
Since he’d found her the right bridal gown, could he please marry her now? But once April finally got him over, Sammi Dan only asked him about his no-no and breaking the consecutive shutout inning record; how it felt to be the best pitcher ever.
Of course, as expected, he acted all humble and claimed he couldn’t carry water for the likes of Nolan Ryan and Cy Young and Christy Mathews and for sure his Great-Uncle Walter.
“But Gij, as good as all those guys were, they lost and you haven’t.”
Then like so often as happened in baseball, a really bad game followed a great one, and her Rangers stunk up the ballpark. They gave back his win. Sunday turned out to be rebound day though, and the Rangers took the final.
Oakland limped out of Arlington clinging to a one-game lead in the West.
Texas did have a full three lead over Baltimore for the second wildcard spot, but who wanted to have to hoe that row? A one-game playoff at The Trop in Tampa Bay? No thanks.
Well, if Gij pitched, but then he couldn’t start the American League Division Series. ALDS, she loved all the fun acronyms in baseball. No, with no excuses, they needed to win their division.
Could she pray bad things on a team? She’d have to ask if that was kosher. If God allowed it, she would get down and dirty on the Oakland’s A’s.
Flying to Houston with the team was fun. They won the opener, and of course Gij packed the stadium and won his start. But the bad guys salvaged the finale. Stupid Astros were so far out of it, but then, everyone wanted to be the spoiler.
And for some strange reason, Oakland wasn’t cooperating either. They took two out of three from the Mariners. Still only one down with nine games left to play in the season.
That Wednesday night on the flight back, she studied the probables and the injury reports, then checked Oakland’s schedule. The whole thing was about to drive her totally insane, but a fun, good kind of crazy.
Then it hit her.
Tomorrow was Thursday, his day off. Alright! She could stand a little R and R.
This stretch run was about as bad as her sleeping arrangements. Maybe her dress was waiting for her at that little shop she’d sent it to for alterations if any were needed. She nudged Gij. He opened one eye. “What?”
“Did you get a text about my dress?”
“Yes, it’s there.”
“We going to home group tomorrow night?”
“Sure.”
Good, all good, couldn’t be better. “And what time do we leave on Friday?”
“Bright and early. They want us at the stadium by seven; figured we leave at six-thirty.”
Macaroni. At least she had him to wake her up. She smiled at the thought of him relenting and letting her share his bed to make it easier, except she knew better than to ask.
CHAPTER
twenty-five
First thing Thursday morning, Sammi Dan and her favorite fellow made a beeline for the bridal shop. The gown fit perfectly, and she absolutely adored it, loved it. Oh, how it made her feel, like a princess.
No, like the queen. Of the world.
She nodded to herself. In this dress, she could rule the universe, no prob. A fleeting thought to have him wait in the Caddy had pirouetted through her brain, but she wasn’t superstitious either.
And it had been his Visa that bought it, except he called it their money. She liked that. A lot of guys, probably most, would be demanding a pre-nup, but not her knight in shining armor.
Hardly able to wrap her brain around his attitude toward the filthy lucre, she’d almost stopped trying. Like he tried to get rid of it as fast as he could, except at a million samolies per no-hitter, she didn’t think she could spend it that fast, and…
“Hey.” She turned sideways. She loved the feel of the rad Cad’s leather seats.
He turned into the drive then punched the remote. “Hey what?”
“You only shutout the Astros. Gave up three hits and a walk.”
“Yes, I was there. Remember?”
“Oh, quit your smart aleck speak. Totally beneath you. You’re going to throw like five more no-hitters. You’re a genius.” She rubbed her hands together, the zeros swirling before her very eyes.
“Glad you think so.”
“You’ve got what? Two more regular season starts before the bonus money doubles.”
The gate opened, and he pulled through. “You just now figuring that out?”
She snarled her lip at him then grinned, like she could get mad over his sass mouth. “Were they hinky at all about the no-hitter part when you were negotiating the original contract?”
“Nope. Oh, Daniels commented on it, but it’s really a win-win. You have noticed there’s not an empty seat when I pitch.”
“Yes, of course, and April was telling me that when she tried to buy her nephew one of your jerseys from the gift shop, she had to pay up front and put her name on a waiting list.”
He eased the Caddy into her spot. “Huh, I didn’t think to ask for a cut of the memorabilia. My bad.”
“And did you notice all the Ranger fans in Houston? We may have had as many there as the Astros. And I bet some of their fans only came to see you, too.”
“Yeah, I saw them. How could I not? I especially liked the guy with the giant placard that kept count of the scoreless innings.”
“My favorite’s still the one that wants me for First Lady.” She followed him to the kitchen. “So what are we taking to eat tonight?” She opened the fridge, a six pack of beer sat right there on the shelf next to three giant hens.
He looked over her shoulder. “Drunk chicken.”
She turned, her lips only inches from his, but he froze, like one little kiss would kill him. “What did you say?”
He stared into her eyes for a second then retreated a step back. “Drunk chicken, I’m smoking those three girls there.”
“Oh, cool. So where does the beer come in? How do you get a dead chicken drunk?”
“I mix up my secret blend of spices and herbs, rub the birds with some then pour out half of the beer and put the leftover spices in the can, poke holes in the top and set the cavity of the chicken over the cans then smoke the little darlings until they’re just right.”
“Yum. Sounds heavenly, but don’t waste the rest of the beer. I can handle that for you.”
“All right, how about while you’re swilling the suds, you make a sopapilla cheesecake?”
“Sure, long as you tell me how.”
The rest of the day flew by between cooking and getting ready to go. Home church sure fit her bill. She found herself really enjoying the fellowship. Roberta sidled up to her during the meal.
“How is it possible that his chicken is better than his ribs? The man is a genius.”
Sammi Dan agreed, of course. An old dude who hadn’t been before—at least not since she’d been coming—sort of gave her the heebie jeebies. He kept staring at her or Gij, every time she glanced at him, he was watching.
On the way out after all the praying got prayed, the guy stood by the front door passing out folded pieces of papers.
He’d been writing on them all through the evening. Gij stuck his in his shirt pocket. She slipped hers into her purse, although inclined to hand it back with a ‘thanks but no thanks, weirdo.’
For her man’s sake, she’d played nice.
“That drunk chicken was absolutely outstanding, honey bunny. Everyone bragged on it big time.”
He chuckled. “It always goes over well. I saw there wasn’t a crumb of your cheesecake left either. Good job.”
“It was your recipe,
and so easy! You know what?”
“You’re a silly willy and I’m not?”
She gave him a how-lame-can-you-be, smirky grin. “You’ve just been in a mood all day, haven’t you? What I was going to say is that I think we ought to open a restaurant. We can call it Gij and Sammi Dan’s joint.”
“No, not interested. I don’t want to cook every night.”
“No. You just teach someone else to do it like you do. Past that, all you have to do is sit back and rake in the bucks. We serve nothing but steak, ribs, and drunk chicken, and in no time we’ll be… Hey, wait. We’re already millionaires, right?”
He threw her his oh-yeah-baby grin. “For sure.”
She just could hardly believe the man. “You’re like a world class Hold ’Em player, the best pitcher who ever came down the pike, and an absolute master at that smokin’ grill of yours. Is there anything you’re not good at?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got a long list, football at the top. I got to play enough to letter but that was it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m so-so at basketball. Cannot skip rope. My spelling is embarrassing and my penmanship leaves a whole lot to be desired. Had to get a little help in English to make it out of high school; forget college, I flunked out.”
How way cool. He was the peanut butter to her jelly. Everything he couldn’t do, she was really great at. Reading and writing, English was her favorite subject all through school; she never even studied and aced all her spelling tests.
And the star quarterback in every fundraising powder puff football game in high school could jump rope with her eyes closed. Where was a blindfold?
“It’s reassuring to know you aren’t perfect, dear, and I can testify that you are absolutely right.”
“’Bout what?”
“Our children are destined to be the cream of the crop, the very best at everything. Between the two of us, we’ve got it all covered.” She leaned back and hugged herself. Maybe the Lord really did make her for him and him for her.
But then he pulled the Caddy into the garage, and yawning, sent her pattering off to her lonely room with nothing other than the three beers left out of the six pack. She should have saved the three halves, or better, made him stop on the way home.
Hey, that’s it. She’d leave the hussy’s mother a note for her to not let Sammi Dan run out of chardonnay—and have her get the good stuff.
Much too early, he knocked on her door. Good thing he came bearing hot coffee. Showered, legs shaved, and all prettified—she checked the mirror—except for the red eyes.
Retrieving her purse, she found the drops, but when she pulled them out, that folded note from last night came with it. She wadded it up and threw it at the trash can next to her bed. It hit the rim and partially unfolded, revealing the top of what looked to be a giant R.
“Okay, old man.” She picked the paper up. “What did you have to say?” She unfolded it and read REPENT. That’s all it said, just repent written in all caps. Wadding it back up, she stopped herself mid throw.
That wasn’t right. That old dude shouldn’t show up at their home group meeting and be allowed to pass out nasty notes.
She marched to his room then knuckled the door hard. “Hey, you in there?”
He opened the door. “Good, you’re ready?”
She stuck out her note. “What did yours say?”
He lifted the shirt he’d worn, took the paper out, read it, then handed it to her. “To whom much is given, much is required. You and Miss Davenport must refrain from all appearances of evil.”
“Why, that buttinsky old man. Where does he get off calling us evil?”
“That isn’t what he said.”
“Oh, yeah?” She waved her note at him. “And what exactly am I supposed to repent of? Being too good?”
“Sweetheart, don’t take it wrong. We’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”
“Alright, fine, but, what’s this appearance of evi?”
“You living here, I’m sure.”
“But we’re not dong anything. Tell me why it’s his business. There’s not one thing wrong with me being here!”
“You know, same reason you haven’t invited your dad and Cate to come. You’re afraid they’d get the wrong idea. It’s the appearance of evil the Bible says we must refrain from.”
“So what? I’ve got to move out now? Just because some old man sticks his nose in our business?”
“That isn’t what I want.”
“What do you want? Tell me, Gij.”
“I love you. I want to get married and live happily ever after with you. Have a bunch of babies. Grow old together.”
“So what’s stopping us? Huh? We’ve got the dress now. Let’s just do it. First thing when we get back, I’ll call Daddy and tell him to be here.”
“We can’t, not yet.”
“Why in the world not?” A realization struck her. “Oh, we can go down to the courthouse for a license as soon as we get back. Should’ve done that yesterday.”
“That isn’t the reason we have to wait.”
“Then why? What else is standing in our way?”
He dropped his chin then looked back. “You’re not saved.”
She backed away a step. What? There was that word again. “Exactly what do you mean by that? I was christened and baptized! That wasn’t good enough for you? How dare you judge me, Gij! Point me in the right direction, and I’ll join whatever church you say. Oh wait. You don’t go to church, so you don’t have one. Pick one! Sweet tarts! Pick two! Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll join them all. Will that satisfy you?”
She couldn’t believe how fast the day had turned rotten. The sun wasn’t even up yet. And all because of that weird old man and his malicious notes!
“That’s not the point, Samantha. Being a member of a church doesn’t make you a Christian, doesn’t get you saved to sit in a pew every Sunday either. You have to believe.”
“Believe? Believe what? I believe I love you, and that you love me.”
“That’s true, but I’m talking about believing Jesus was born of a virgin –”
“Oh, good grief! April said the Catholics were the only ones who honor the Holy Virgin Mary like we do. But get real, Gij. Virgins cannot have babies. We both know that.”
He shook his head, but didn’t respond to her rant, just calmly continued with his list. “That He lived a sinless life, gave that life of His own free will for the remission of our sins, was buried then arose on the third day, and now sits at the Father’s right hand.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll give you the possibility that there may be a creator up there somewhere, maybe, but since I’ve been old enough to know, I’ve never been able to swallow the Christmas story. A virgin getting pregnant is just a bit too much and…” She backed away. “That Bible you gave me. It’s different from Aunt Rachel’s, and everyone’s got a holy book that they claim is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” She held her hands out. “I love you, Gij, but I don’t see why I should have to swallow some fairy tale for us to get married.”
“It isn’t a fairy tale. It’s God’s honest truth.”
“You don’t know that. I mean, almost every one of the church kids I knew in high school was getting it on.” She waved the note at him. “And you’re siding with this kook? He’s the one who needs to repent! He’s judging us.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, Sweetheart, he’s right. You do need to repent and call on the Lord, and be converted. Otherwise, I can’t marry you.”
“What! Gij! What are you saying? Why in the world not?”
“The Bible says a Christian is not to unequally yoke himself. Marrying a non-believer is against the rules. It would mean a lifetime of problems.”
“So you saying we’re done?”
“No. I love you and want you more than my next breath, but if you can’t acc
ept the Lord’s sacrifice...”
“What?”
“It’s your choice. We all have choices, but if you can’t… The Bible says, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shall be saved.’ If you refuse, if you can’t, then yes. We’re done.”
She backed away. He couldn’t mean that. Why was he doing this to her? She gritted her teeth and glared, willing herself not to speak, but the words spilled out anyway.
“Go on then! Leave me! Make me love you and just leave me! That’s what God wants you to do! Run on off to Seattle, but you’re going by yourself! I am not going with you, and I definitely won’t be here when you get back!”
She spun toward the door. She had to get out of there, away from him.
“Samantha.”
She swung back to him. Her blood boiled. Her heart hurt so bad, she might drop dead right there, but she didn’t care. Who wanted to live anyway? “Don’t you Samantha me! This is all your doing! You’re just as bad as my two-timing mother! No, worse! I hate you!”
He froze. Just stood there staring at her with those big blank baby blues. He shook his head, grabbed his bag, and walked out. She wanted to go after him, wanted to start the day all over, but only watched him leave.
She’d run after her mother, to no good. She would not run after a man. Him and his stupid rules.
CHAPTER
twenty-six
April asked first, then after the third guy quizzed him, Gij stopped answering all together. He sat by his locker until time to go, then once boarded, stared out the plane’s window at the sunrise, ignoring everyone.
How could he have let this happen? It was all because he’d invited her to live with him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t please the Lord.
It was all his fault. He’d gone against the Word and this is the mess he made.
Except Samantha Danielle was the perfect one. Without her, nothing else mattered. As though his entire life had led up to that morning, he didn’t have the answers. Not even one. He’d shoved all in and lost.