Wedding Homerun in Loveland, Ohio

by Cathy Liggett

  “Okay.” Wendy clapped her hands together. “All we need are napkins. Do you think Mac would mind us using some of his?”

  “I sincerely doubt it.” He was only the most generous man Megan had ever met. The thought caused a cramping around her heart. She set the second full cookie sheet on the island momentarily and rubbed at her chest as she walked over to the pantry.

  In the meantime, Wendy lingered by the pantry door, reading the framed embroidered message hanging on the wall there. Megan had always assumed Mac’s Aunt Emily must’ve enjoyed doing cross-stitch because her work was all throughout the house. More than once, just like Wendy, she’d stopped to read the colorfully stitched quotes.

  “‘Prayer changes things,’” Wendy read out loud. “What a great reminder! So simple yet so true. Don’t you think?”

  “Uh-huh.” Megan nodded. But even as she stepped into the pantry, retrieved a package of napkins, and closed the pantry door behind her, her insides ached, wishing she could believe to the core of her being that those words really did hold true.

  Evidently never-stop-moving Wendy believed because she’d ceased movement for a moment and actually stood staring almost reverently at the cross-stitch. And Mac … he believed the same thing. So many others she knew did, too.

  Sighing, she wedged the napkins under her arm and grabbed one of the sandwich trays. “I can get this tray if you can get the other one,” she said to Wendy. “And we can have some of the guys come in and get the coolers, right? They’re probably pretty heavy.”

  “No way we’re breaking our backs over those,” Wendy agreed.

  And as the two of them got on with the business of feeding the volunteers, and she and Mac stayed busy trying to avoid one another, Megan still felt those words gnawing at her.

  Prayer apparently did change things where other people’s lives were concerned. But for her, things—even falling in love—seemed to be so complicated. Something always blocking her happiness. She wasn’t sure why that was true.

  Chapter 19

  How many days till All-’tar Day, Maw-mee?”

  Megan guided her SUV through downtown Loveland, feeling her shoulders droop when she had to stop at a crosswalk for an older couple holding hands. Everyone seemed to be holding hands these days, didn’t they? Young and old folks alike?

  “This is Thursday, Samster. So two more days. It’s this Saturday,” she answered automatically, her mind not completely tuned in to him. She was too busy trying not to let her eyes—and heart—stray to the bistro where she and Mac had shared lunch weeks earlier. Or the shady bike trail where they’d pushed Sammy along some evenings. Or Paxton’s. Or the ice cream shop, or …

  She pulled her wraparound sunglasses from the visor and put them on, hoping to at least dim some of the memories of Mac somewhat. Besides, she’d taken a couple of days off work so she could concentrate on other things that needed attention in her life. Things like Sammy’s birthday invitations, getting her oil changed, some last-minute details for the sports event, and just to make herself feel better—a trip to the hair salon later that evening for a trim she needed desperately.

  “We see Mac then? This Saturday?”

  “Sure. You’ll see Mac then.” She sighed involuntarily, already hoping Event Day wouldn’t be as awkward as Volunteer Day the weekend before. Not that she and Mac hadn’t been completely civil with each other then. They were totally polite when they needed to be. All day long. And into the evening.

  And it had felt just awful!

  “An’ how many days to my birt-day, Maw-mee?”

  “Nine more days. It’s the Saturday after this one.”

  “We see Mac next Saturday for my birt-day,” Sammy said. Only it wasn’t a question this time. It was matter-of-fact. Expected.

  Megan hadn’t mentioned anything to him of course, about what was going on between her and Mac. She’d hoped by only seeing Mac on the weekends at the different events, Sammy would slowly get weaned from his presence in their lives overall.

  And it was so much better for that to be happening now—just the way that it was—she convinced herself. So much better than if she and Mac had kept going on the way they had been and after a year or so, he dropped out of her and Sammy’s lives. That would’ve been twice as hard, wouldn’t it?

  After all, Mac could be living someplace else by then. Or be so wrapped up in playing ball and traveling with the team, he wouldn’t even remember them back in Loveland. Who knows? He could even backslide, slip into old habits, turn into MacNeill Hattaway, the womanizer again.

  There were so many reasons why it was better she cut the cord now, not just for Mac and his career, but for Sammy and her, too.

  So many reasons …

  Except there was no way she could explain all that to Sammy, was there? When Mac wasn’t around, Sammy was still obsessed with him, forever talking and asking about him.

  But then why wouldn’t he? Mac had always treated him incredibly well.

  “I don’t know if Mac will be there or not, Sammy. We mailed his invitation earlier, remember? But sometimes people are busy,” she told her son, being realistic.

  Sometimes they don’t want to see certain people because of certain things.

  But of course she couldn’t say that. Instead she opted for, “And sometimes they have other reasons why they can’t—”

  Her son cut her off. “We not mail Rachel’s invitation. We take to her?”

  “That’s right. Because we don’t have Rachel’s address.”

  And they didn’t even know her last name actually.

  “We take to her now?”

  “Yes, indeed. Right now.” She crossed over the Little Miami Bridge, flicked her left blinker, then came to stop at the red light at the intersection. “Are you excited?”

  “I like Rachel a lot.”

  “I know you do, honey.”

  Sammy had a short list of the people he’d wanted to invite to his birthday party. Obviously, there were his grandparents. Then Allie and Greg and their kids, Justin and Carrie. But he also wanted to ask Mr. and Mrs. Biddle, who Megan learned was improving much each day and would probably be ready to watch Sammy again in January or so. As well, he wanted to invite the Slater family. Janey was next on his list, and he hoped she would bring him a dozen jelly doughnuts. But, definitely at the top of his list were Mac and Rachel. And the more he talked about Rachel, the more she realized how much of a crush he had on the girl.

  “My hair look okay?” he asked from the backseat.

  “Your hair?” Megan glanced in the rearview mirror. Was he serious? When had he started thinking about his hair? Or even noticed he had any?

  “Mac pat my hair down sometimes. He say, ‘You a handsome dude, Sammy.’ ” For a moment his voice didn’t sound like her son’s. It took on an older, more confident tone, mimicking Mac.

  More than that, it sounded full of all the loving conviction Mac had always lavished on her Sammy.

  A lump rose in her throat.

  “Mac—Mac says that?” She’d seen and heard Mac do and say a lot of things to Sammy. But that was a new one.

  “Yeah. He says, ‘Girls like handsome dudes like you, Sammy.’ ” He gave a half giggle. “Then he goes, ‘High five.’ And we smack hans. Sometimes we smack hans though, and then Mac, he take my han and he holds it. Tight.”

  Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. Oh Mac. Oh Mac. In a million years, would she ever be over him?

  The car honked behind her, and with tear-blurred vision, she glanced up to see a green arrow. She rounded the corner, Sammy unaware of the emotions that welled up inside her.

  “We almost there, Maw-mee?”

  “Al—” She cleared her throat. “Almost, honey.”

  Megan glanced back at him and couldn’t believe the huge smile that lit his face. In eager anticipation of seeing Rachel again, she was sure. As if she didn’t have enough to be emotional about, how it tugged on her heart that a girl was tugging on his!

  By
the time she pulled into the Donut Emporium lot and parked, his nearly-seven-year-old body trembled with excitement. But once Megan got him out of the car, into his wheelchair, and handed him Rachel’s invitation, they made their way up to the doughnut shop door, and all of that changed.

  “Where Rachel?” he asked when the door didn’t open automatically with his new friend on the other side.

  “I don’t know, Sams.”

  Megan held the door open with her leg as they inched inside. But the shop was empty and she could see Sammy’s instant disappointment. His shoulders sagged immediately; his hand holding the invitation fell limply into his lap.

  Until Sean and Rachel came bounding out from the back room.

  “Sammy!” Rachel ran to Sammy’s side while Megan whispered a thanks to the heavens.

  “You can’t imagine how much he’s been looking forward to coming here,” she confided to Sean.

  “You mean seeing Rachel, I suspect.” He smiled. “We were just in the back finishing up lunch. How are you guys doing? Can I get you anything?” he asked pleasantly.

  “We’ll have two jelly doughnuts to go. And Sammy has an invitation to give to—”

  But before she could get the words out, Rachel was squealing. Sammy hunched his shoulders at the sound, but couldn’t quit grinning, reveling in her excitement.

  “Uncle Sean! Can I go? It’s for Sammy’s birthday. See?” She waved the invitation in the air.

  After figuring out that Rachel’s mom would be working the day of the party, but that Sean could bring Rachel, Megan gave him directions to her house. She also encouraged him to stay instead of just dropping Megan off, telling him about some of the other guests he might know.

  “Will Janey be there?” he asked in particular.

  “Uh, you mean Janey Saunders?”

  “Do you have any other good friends named Janey?”

  “Not a one actually. Janey will—You know she actually hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

  Which was absolutely true. But it was also true that her two dearest friends, Janey and Allie, had never missed one of Sammy’s birthdays no matter what. Still … she wasn’t exactly sure why Sean was asking. Just in case Janey’s being there might keep him away, and subsequently Rachel, was there any reason to mention that?

  “I can’t wait to come to your party, Sammy,” Rachel cooed. “It’ll be so much fun!” She took hold of Sammy’s hands and clapped them together. Megan had to smile at the two of them, both laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.

  “Mac right, Maw-mee,” Sammy told Megan ten minutes later when they’d left the doughnut shop with their bag of treats.

  “Mac?” Her heart leaped involuntarily. If only he knew he was killing her, bringing up Mac’s name all the time.

  “Uh-huh.” Sammy beamed. “Girl do like handsome dudes like me.”

  “You right, Mac.”

  Mac pushed Sammy’s wheelchair through the warehouse, over to the spot where he had the practice bowling ramp all set up. Fortunately it was cool inside, but he always brought a couple of water bottles for him and Sammy anyway.

  “What am I right about, buddy?” he asked while glancing at his watch to see exactly what time it was. Laura said Megan would be back from her hair appointment by around seven-thirty, so Kurt would return to pick up Sammy at seven fifteen. That meant they had about thirty-five minutes to practice and rest in between. Plenty of time—

  “Girls like me.”

  Mac erupted with a laugh. “Of course girls like you. What’s not to like? Is this a certain girl you’re talking about?”

  He pushed the wheelchair up to the bowling ramp and came around to face Sammy. He saw the telltale glint of infatuation in Sammy’s eyes when he said, “Rachel.”

  “Rachel. The girl at the doughnut shop, huh? Your mom talked about you two meeting each other a few weeks ago.”

  Mac had never known—and figured he would never know—the privilege or joy of being married to Megan. But, he sure felt the pain of being divorced from her, even outside of marriage. It didn’t feel good mentioning conversations they’d had in the past, knowing their interactions in the future would be slim to none. Sometimes it didn’t even feel good being around Sammy and being reminded of every good time, every quiet time, and even every in-between time the three of them had shared together.

  Bittersweet. Maybe that was the word for it. He wasn’t sure. He only knew that he wasn’t about to give up being around Sammy. Not if he could help it. Simply put, the boy meant the world to him. He didn’t want to give up on that relationship as well.

  “Rachel pretty.”

  “I’ll bet she is.”

  “You like pretty girls, Mac?”

  “Sure.” Mac shrugged. “Pretty. Nice. Smart. Fun.”

  “My mom pretty and nice. You like her, right?”

  “Yeah, I do, buddy. She’s— You have a good mom,” he said, unzipping the bowling bag, trying not to dwell on that too much. “Hey, you remember what we said, right?” He handed Sammy the orange lightweight bowling ball. “We’re practicing because it’s fun to work at something you love. It’s fun to get better at it.”

  Sammy hugged the ball in his lap. “An’ we want to surprise Maw-mee.”

  “And, yes, we want to surprise your mommy.” Mac unscrewed the cap on one of the waters, offering Sammy a drink first. Sammy shook his head, so Mac took a long swallow.

  Well, that had been his first thought when he’d come up with this practice bowling scheme. He thought it’d be fun to surprise Megan with Sammy’s new bowling skills. But honestly, he was still angry at her and his pride still bruised black-and-blue from the way she’d led him on or whatever she’d been doing. At the moment he couldn’t have cared less about doing much of anything for her. Now his objective was solely aimed at Sammy. Getting Sammy better for Sammy in order to make him feel good. Practicing with him the same way his uncle Jake had practiced with him.

  “You do like bowling, don’t you?” The thought occurred to him that he didn’t want to be pushing Sammy into something he wasn’t that crazy about.

  “Yeah. I show you I like it.”

  Sammy aimed the ball exactly the way Mac had instructed him over the past weeks. Easy as anything, the orange orb went sailing down the ramp, splattering bowling pins in every direction. He managed to repeat that move successfully time after time, calling for some high-fives and drinks of water.

  Mac had helped out with some baseball clinics over the past months and had even coached some kids at the beginning of his career—long before he’d gotten carried away with other “not so positive” things.

  But working with Sammy brought out something in him that he’d never experienced in those other situations. Most likely because he felt so close to the boy. In fact, he felt like Sammy could be his own son. Which hurt. But felt really good at the same time.

  “I’m proud of you, Sammy. Really proud.” Mac bent down in front of him. “You try harder than a lot of pro players I know, you know that?”

  Sammy’s face shone with a look of awe. “I do?”

  “You do.” Mac nodded. “How old are you now?”

  “I six.”

  “Only six? Buddy, you’ve got lots and lots of years of bowling ahead of you.”

  “But I be seven soon.” Sammy struggled to hold up the correct number of fingers. “You come to my party, Mac? Maw-mee mail you invitation.”

  “Your party?” Megan had mailed him an invitation? Only for Sammy’s sake, he was sure. But still, it could prove to be an uncomfortable situation. For him at least. Everything was pretty much a jumble inside of him. For one, he couldn’t find a place to store up all his leftover feelings for her. And just the idea that he still had those lingering feelings made him angrier than he wanted to admit. “Well, Sammy, I …”

  Mac stood up and began to hem and haw, started to hedge and come up with any number of reasons why he couldn’t be there. But then he looked down at Sammy and knew he couldn’t sa
y no to the eyes gazing up at him so expectantly. Not only couldn’t he say no. He didn’t want to. Despite the surrounding circumstances, despite the fact that he and Megan didn’t have a future together, he didn’t want it to be like that between him and Sammy. So he said what was pressing on his heart instead.

  “I’ll be there, Sammy. For you, I’ll be there. Always.”

  Chapter 20

  Megan stopped inside her parents’ foyer and peered into the gold-framed mirror hanging above the antique chest there. Evening sun poured through the palladium window above the front door, offering plenty of light, wrapping her reflection in an amber glow.

  She swished her head from left to right, enjoying the feel of her freshly-cut hair. Christy had done a good job as usual. Mac would be sure to compliment her …

  If only he were still in her life.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Her mom came around the corner from the kitchen, waving a dish towel hello. “Your hair looks cute.”

  Mom! Forever her savior.

  “Thanks, I thought I’d try something different. Go a little shorter. I needed a change.” More like something to lift her spirits!

  “Long or short. You can wear it both ways.”

  “You’re my mother.” Megan smiled. “You have to say that.”

  “Not really.” Her mom slung the dish towel over her shoulder, settling her hands on her hips. Thinking her petite stance might look more formidable that way? “I tell it like it is when I have to,” she said, before retracing her steps back into the kitchen. “I do, believe me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Megan followed behind, teasing. “And when would that be?”

  “Like when I—when I—Oh …” She tossed a hand in the air, at a loss for an example. Reaching into the silverware drawer next to the sink, she drew out a fork. “Hey, try this for me, will you?” She pointed to a glass baking dish where Megan could barely see any cake for all the layers of whipped topping and sliced strawberries. “I just finished it up. It’s angel food cake with crushed pineapple and strawberries. I wanted to bake something different for card club next week and thought I’d do a test run.” She sank the fork into a corner of the dish and came up with a mouthful, which she pointed in Megan’s direction.