by Caryl McAdoo
“I love you, Baby.”
Though her brain wanted to, she forbade her mouth to say it back. “Okay, that’s good to know. You better get some rest.”
“Will you take my calls tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, Gij. Doesn’t seem like a very good idea. I’ll think about it.”
“Tell Cate that I’m sorry I woke her up.”
“Okay, I’m saying goodbye now.” She slid the phone off and handed it back to the bleary-eyed woman. “He says he’s sorry he woke you up.”
Relieved, Sammi Dan turned toward her room again and allowed herself a little smile. The big oaf loved her and told the whole world that he did—on television no less. She stopped at the hall. “Goodnight, y’all, and Cate, I’m sorry he woke you up, too.”
“No problem, Sweetheart. I just hope you two can get all your troubles worked out.”
Her Daddy cocked his head and lifted one eyebrow. “That’d be a wise move in my estimation.” He pointed the remote and clicked the TV alive. “I never taught you to run away from troubles.”
She blew him a kiss. “Good night, Daddy.”
“Night, Sammi Dan.”
She padded down the hall to her room. Still decorated just as when she’d left, it was comfortable, but so small. Her stuff filled every corner. She grabbed her laptop and sat cross-legged in the middle of her twin bed. She had some Googling to do.
Gij left the ice on until his shoulder numbed and decided against a second one. He dressed and headed out, but barely missed making a clean getaway.
Maddox caught up with him. “Got a minute? Jeff would like to see you.”
“Sure.” He followed his pitching coach into the manager’s office and took the hot seat across the desk.
“Great game, kid.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How’s the arm?”
“It’s there.”
He nodded. “I thought so. We all saw that… what appeared to be a little trouble after you broke that slider off in the seventh. Started to come get you.”
Gij grinned. “Sure glad you didn’t.” He looked hard at the manager then Maddox. He stood and leaned forward enough to flip the door closed then sat back down. “If I tell y’all something, can it stay between us?”
Banister shrugged and smiled. “You tell me then I’ll tell you.”
“No, I need your word.”
The manager chuckled. “Alright then, so long as it isn’t illegal or immoral, I’ll keep it between us.”
Gij glanced over to Maddox. “Coach?”
“I won’t say anything. You’ve got my word.”
“Me being here and able to throw like I am… It’s all tied together… Well, I’m not going into detail, but I’ll tell you this much. I’ve given my word, so there’ll be no changing my mind or nothing more to say about it, but this season is it. One and done.” He stared at the man across the desk, a good man. Jeff would never ask him to break his word. He’d understand. Well, maybe not the why. “You give me the ball, sir, and I’ll throw all the innings you want me to.”
“What about your arm, kid?”
“Oh, that little twinge in the seventh didn’t compare to the pain when I hurt it as a kid. You’re the skipper, sir. I just wanted you to know there’s no need to save me. You put my name on the line up, and I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER
twenty-eight
For most of the next day, Sammi Dan holed up in her room searching the net, then answered his fourth call. “Hey, Johnson, you sure are persistent, aren’t you?”
“Afternoon, Sweetheart. How’s your day going?”
“Good.”
“You talk with Yancy?”
“No.” She held the phone out and smirked at it. “Why would I?”
“To tell him you’re coming back, so he’ll call off his law dogs.”
“I haven’t decided about that, but even if I did…”
“Why?”
“I’m just not sure.”
“Well, don’t wait too long. I might pitch tomorrow.”
“Oh, Gij, don’t let them do that to you. It’s insane.”
“It would only be in relief, an inning or two at most. Really nothing more than a bullpen. But if I do, I sure hope you’re here for the post-game.”
“I said I’ll think about it. Now I have a question for you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“There’s like a zillion religions. Why are you Christians so sure y’all have it right?” She smiled and nodded at herself. Great question. If she wasn’t holding the phone, she’d high-five herself.
“All the others that I’ve ever heard about, are works based. You have to do something, act this way or that. Following Jesus only takes faith. The Bible says that all who call on the name of the Lord will be saved. You don’t have to do anything, except believe.”
“Okay, well, let me think about that.” She frowned at the phone. “I have another question.”
“Sure.”
“I’m willing to give you intelligent design—a creator if you will—but how can you be so sure that he, or she, cares about puny us? Or that there’s even a heaven?”
“How many times have you had me run the Caddy through the carwash?”
“I don’t know. Two or three maybe. Fried green tomatoes, Gij, what in the world does that have to do with anything? Especially, God!”
“Hear me out. You love that car, right?”
“You know I do.”
“Same with God. He loves us, too. We’re His children. He’s watching over us, thinking of us, caring. It’d be like you going off and leaving the keys in the Caddy for just anyone to drive.”
“Interesting analogy; okay, I’ll think about that, too.”
“How about you head on back home, put your car in the garage, and catch a flight up here to Seattle?”
“No can do.”
“Why not?”
“I threw away my gate remote.”
“I can open it for you with my phone.”
“Yeah, I forgot about that. I’ll think about that, too.”
For a while she listened while he talked about the stupid weather, like she cared. So what if it was misting in Seattle? Didn’t it rain like all the time there? Finally, when no new good questions formulated, she stopped him. “Okay, Johnson, I’m done. I need to go to the store.”
“Out of wine?”
“What if I am? What’s it to you?”
“Have you considered how cool it is that God made us so that we can get drunk?”
“What?”
“Yeah, don’t you think? He even put it in the Bible. Said give a poor man a little wine so he can forget his troubles for a while. And Paul said to drink a little wine for your stomach’s sake.”
“Where’s it say that?”
“I don’t remember the exact address, but it’s in there. Look it up.”
“I will, right after I get back.”
“You been watching any TV?”
She shook her head like he could see her. “No, not really. Why?”
“They’re talking about us.”
“Oh, yay, isn’t that just great. But then again, what could you expect after...” She bit her tongue a second, then the words spilled out of her mouth on their own accord. Even as they came from her mouth, she couldn’t believe she asked. “Why did you give that interview to April?”
“You wouldn’t take my calls.”
Oh sure. That’s right. It was all her fault. Blame her. Why couldn’t men ever accept responsibility? He was the one who made all his religious demands. But it was her fault. “Don’t do it again. Okay?”
“If you say so. Sure. I love you, Samantha Danielle.”
“Goodbye Johnson. I’m hanging up now.” She touched End then held the phone to her heart. She missed him so much she could barely stand it, but… He didn’t really love her.
If he did, he’d never let her go just because she didn’t believe the same way as he did. May
be she’d become his latest addiction. If he fell in love with her the way she was, then why did he insist that she change? Buy into the big myth?
But what if it wasn’t all a fairy tale? No, those crazy stories couldn’t be true. A sea parting? A little boy killing a giant when the whole army of grown men wouldn’t face him? She laughed aloud.
And how stupid was it to believe a man got swallowed by a fish and lived to talk about it? No way.
She needed a drink. It was pretty cool that the Bible said wine was okay. She strolled to her closet and went to flipping. So like the old days, but now, instead of a bunch of Friends of the Library Thrift Store bargain bin clothes, she had some really killer high fashion stuff.
But nothing seemed right. Then it hit her. She went to her old chest of drawers and found them right there where she’d left the little darlings so long ago.
She wiggled into her wranglers, then did a slow circle in front of her free-standing, full length mirror. Why had she left that? Should’ve taken it with her. She liked the reflection smiling back, but her face could use some color.
Maybe she’d lay out some when she got back. She dug out her boots and decided to tuck in the pants’ legs. It was a good look. Gij would like it.
Why had she left her cowgirl clothes? Wasn’t like she wasn’t the real deal or anything. Oh, she could ride with the best of ’em—maybe not like the barrel queens, but she’d worked plenty of beeves in her day. Even went hogging a time or two with…” She refused to even think the man-child’s name. He was such a…
“No, Sammi Dan. Don’t you even think about going there.”
The audible, too loud words brought a smile. She peered again at her reflection. “Talking to ourselves now, are we?” But that time she spoke under her breath.
Cate stood at the sink washing the breakfast dishes. “You need to tell Daddy he should get you a dish washer. Nevermind, I will. I’m headed to town, need anything at the store?”
“You going to Paris, Sweetheart?”
“No, Annona. I’m out of wine.” She definitely did not want to brave Walmart. The place would be crazy packed. “I can stop by Piggly Wiggly though.”
“I still call it that, too, but it’s Rehkopf’s now. Everything’s changing.” She dried her hands and reached for her purse. “If you don’t mind stopping in Clarksville, I could use five pounds of potatoes and an onion. Here, let me give you some money”
Sammi Dan waved her off. “Don’t be silly. Is that all?”
“I think it’ll do. Your dad and I are planning on going to Paris tomorrow.”
She kept the Caddy’s top up all the way to the little, three-store town ten miles east of Clarksville. It always tickled her that it was the only wet spot in all of Red River County.
According to her dad, the fight they had back in the seventies over Annona’s liquor election split the valley; the religious teetotalers went totally ape. Claimed all manner of evil would befall the county if the devil’s brews were sold and consumed in God’s country.
But of course, that hadn’t happened. Crime did not skyrocket. Beer cans and wine bottles didn’t litter the byways beyond anyone’s ability to pick up, and falling down drunks didn’t fill the streets.
The sheriff didn’t have to work any harder; crime rate remained about where it had always been.
Besides, wasn’t like Oklahoma didn’t sell spirits twenty minutes away just over the Red. Way she looked at it, kept Texas dollars in the Lone Star State where they belonged. She stopped at the first and only of the three package stores she frequented.
Bear’s old cheeks split into a monster grin. “Sammi D! You are a sight for sore eyes, girl. Our own little local celebrity. How in the world are you?”
“I’m good.” She turned right, grabbed two bottles of chardonnay and a fifth of tequila, shortstopped the back wall’s cooler and picked out three different flavors of MD 20/20, then set the whole load on the well-worn counter.
“And your dad? How’s he getting along? Still a lonesome ol’ badger?” He started bagging her purchases. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “This’ll do. And Daddy’s great, actually, an old high school sweetheart’s come around after her husband died. He’s a new man.”
“Corrie Cate?” The old man, actually her distant cousin, ran her card. “Well now, isn’t that some good news?” His smile cracked his face again. “Glad to hear that. And why aren’t you in Seattle?”
“If I was there, I couldn’t be here throwing my money around. And yes, it’s Corrie Cate he’s seeing. They both seem really happy.”
“That’s great. I would make it without your business, you know. You’re hurting the team, Sammi D. Gij needs you out there.”
She shook her head and ignored his last question. “No way. I’m not hurting anyone. Johnson threw that last no-hitter without my presence.”
“Yeah, maybe so, but the man’s heartsick. Anyone can see. It’s written all over his face. That last interview…” He cleared his throat. She could swear his eyes glistened. Tears? “You’ve got to patch things up with the boy, honey. At least through the playoffs.”
She backed to the door. “He’s the one who sent me packing, and besides…” Her own tears blurred the silhouette of the broad shouldered softie, but she blinked them away, determined not to let one fall.
What did he know anyway? “Look, he’s going to…” She stopped herself. Gij’s secrets were just that, and she certainly wouldn’t betray him by flapping her mouth.
For one thing, she’d promised, and she wasn’t like that, blabbing everything she knew to anyone. And for another, anyone she told that he was going to pitch seven shutouts and seven no-hitters would think she’d flipped her wig and send her to the funny farm.
Well, she’d spilled her guts to her dad, but he would never repeat it.
“There was a Fox guy in here this morning. He asked about you.”
“Really? What’d you tell him?”
“Not much. That we were fourth cousins on my mother’s side. That you were a real sweet kid. And no, I didn’t have a clue where your daddy lived.”
“Thanks, Uncle Bear.”
“I sure do want another World Series, and you haven’t called me Uncle in forever.”
She stepped back close and lifted his burly hand to her cheek. “You haven’t lied for me in forever either. I appreciate it.”
“Well, get yourself to Seattle. That pitcher of ours needs you there, and the Rangers need him to be right.”
All the way back to Clarksville, she pondered the situation. Could her absence alter his game? And if the Fox guy tracked her down, what would she say to him?
No comment? None of your beeswax? Get lost? She turned off the Highway 82 loop onto 82 Business that doubled as Clarksville’s main drag then pulled over and stopped at the fairgrounds.
She unlocked the two levers then pushed the button, and the rag top mechanically folded neatly into its pocket.
Forget everything else. What good was having a convertible if you drove around with the top up? And her frightfully white skin could use the vitamin D rays, too.
Three miles and ten howdy waves later, she pulled in to Rehkopf’s parking lot. She didn’t like the new name; to her, it’d forever be Piggly Wiggly’s. Not that it ever fit the not-too-super market either, but the little independent certainly beat driving all the way to the WalMart in Paris.
In a way, it was a shame that it and Foodsaver caused Walmart to call it quits and leave Clarksville. But she also appreciated the town council standing up for the two little stores that had faithfully served the county seat for so many years.
Some thought saying no to the giant retailer’s bid for a superstore hurt the town, but she wasn’t so sure.
After the produce, she browsed the meat section. If memory served, they sold the best store-bought beef anywhere.
“Sam! Hey there, girl! You sure are looking good, all cowgirl-upped.”
She recognized the voice
immediately and resisted the urge to bolt. Instead, she put a smile on, turned real ladylike, and faced her high school crush. She swallowed and gave him a little nod.
“Why, thank you.”
“My goodness.” He leaned back and made a big show of giving her the once over. “You look better in person than on TV.”
As always, his starched, long sleeved, pearl-snapped shirt and even heavier starched jeans that fit about perfect made him look straight off a page in the Quarter Horse Journal. From his well-worn but highly polished boots all the way to his hundred dollar straw Stetson—with a rooster tail feather, of course—he looked all together fine.
“How’ve you been, Rex?” Why’d she call him by name?
He grinned. “Fair to Middlin’ I guess, but things are looking up.”
If she’d only thought quick enough, she should’ve acted like she was having trouble placing the guy, that she barely remembered who he was. Too late for that though. “That’s good. Glad to hear it.”
“Been watching you on the tube.”
“Really? I never knew you were a baseball fan.”
“I’m not, but I’ve always been a big Sammi Dan fan. You know that. Some things don’t change.”
Couldn’t prove it by her, not by the way he’d treated her in high school and the way his eyes crawled all over her now. “That so? Suppose I remember things a little different.”
“No. It’s true, gal. I always had a thing for you. Looked plenty good back then.” He stepped closer; the hint of some fancy cologne invaded her space. Why did some men do that? Johnson didn’t stink himself up. “And you look even better now.”
And so did he. Ice box pie, did he ever, but she’d never tell him--not if world peace depended on it. She’d loved him—or thought she had—back in the day. “You’re married, aren’t you, Rex?”
“Missy and I divorced last year.”
“Oh, bless your heart. I’m sorry to hear that.” Served the idiot and his hussy right; she’d known they’d never make it.