He could … if only weeks ago he hadn’t deleted Megan’s cell number from his phone. He’d deleted her mom’s cell number along with it, figuring it’d be too easy to reach out to her in a moment of weakness.
Tired and perplexed, he hung his head in his hands. Nothing seemed to be working out for them. Not a single thing. Every time he turned around there was something else keeping him from Megan, and Sammy, too, for that matter. First Megan and her out-of-the-blue dismissal of their relationship. Then the trade offer. And now a simple flight.
It must not be in God’s plan, he decided. It must not be. And he’d simply have to get used to it. Even if he didn’t want to.
“Aww …” he groaned into his hands and stayed like that for a while, a million thoughts jumbled in his mind.
Finally, he lifted his head and started to lean back in the chair and close his eyes. He may as well nap. It wasn’t as if he was going anywhere. But before he could lean back, his eyes lit on a woman and a little boy. They were holding hands, walking down the aisle between the gates.
The two reminded him so much of Megan and Sammy that it made his heart ache. Reminding him of how much he’d wanted to be a part of their lives. Reminding him of how he’d changed for the better to the depths of himself, and Megan’s heart still remained elusive to him.
But what was he supposed to do about it? Beg her?
Frustrated, he tried to tear his eyes away from the mother and son. Until a baseball hat fell from the boy’s pocket and the pair kept walking, not noticing.
Jumping up from his seat, Mac went to pick up the hat. Over the pockets of travelers, he called out to the mother. “Excuse me. Miss? Ma’am?”
Somehow the woman heard him and turned. She eyed him curiously.
“Your son.” He strode toward them, the cap in his hand. The little boy immediately moved closer to his mother, hugging her leg. “He dropped his baseball hat.”
“Oh, thank you!” Gratitude shone in her eyes as she reached for it. “He would’ve been so upset if he’d lost his hat,” she told Mac. “Wouldn’t you?” She looked down at her son who replied with a nod.
“Yeah? Is he a big White Sox fan?” Mac asked her, since her son appeared to be somewhat shy. “Did one of the players autograph it for him or something?”
The woman smiled. “Oh no. Nothing like that.” She gave a slight shrug. “It’s special because his daddy bought it for him.”
Mac stood and watched the two of them for a moment, but they blended into the crowd and disappeared so quickly he wondered if he’d really seen the mother and son at all.
But it didn’t matter. He’d seen what he needed to. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do.
He’d never given up in a baseball game. He’d always tried his hardest, to the bitter end. How could he give up on Megan when he loved her more than anything he had ever loved in his life? And Sammy—the boy was too much a part of him now.
Unfortunately, his pride had kept him from questioning Megan much that night she said they didn’t have to see each other anymore. Even though it didn’t seem like something Megan would do—to lead a guy on—his pride kept him from talking to her all the days that followed.
He’d been so hurt, he hadn’t considered anything that was going on in her mind. Only in his own. He kept telling himself not to worry, to get over it. That he could have his pick of any woman.
But the truth was the only woman he really wanted lived in Loveland, Ohio, with her son.
And no, he wouldn’t beg her to listen to him. He wouldn’t beg her to tell him what all was going on in her head.
Unless, of course, he had to.
“Okay, God,” he whispered under his breath. “I get it. I do. Thank You, Lord, for making me see. Thank You.”
He glimpsed at his watch, set to eastern standard time. “Home” time. The party would be ending soon, and there wasn’t a chance under the heavens that he’d get there for that of course. But Loveland was less than five and a half hours from Chicago. And if he didn’t waste a minute more, he might be able to still get there before Sammy’s birthday was completely over.
Picking up his carry-on, he made his way over to the boarding station again, realizing that despite all the good news from Miners’ staff the night before, he really hadn’t felt like smiling all that much. Until just now.
“Hey, one more question.”
The attendant held up her hand to stop him. “Sir, I just told you there’s nothing I can—”
He cut her off. “Trust me, I heard you. And I apologize if I was even slightly rude before. But now I need to know, where’s the nearest rental car agency?”
Chapter 23
Don’t need to put jammies on,” Sammy mildly protested hours after his birthday guests had gone home.
In contrast to his slight crankiness, the Happy Face balloon still bobbed and smiled widely at Megan as she pushed his wheelchair down the hallway.
“Honey, it’s that time of night.” She paused in the doorway of his bedroom and flicked on the wall switch. A ceramic lamp with a catcher’s mitt base illuminated from his nightstand. “Time for bed.”
“Buh Mac still coming. Don’t want to be in jammies when Mac come.”
Sammy was still wearing the bowling glove Rachel had given him and the cotton sweater vest Mrs. Biddle had knit for him while she’d been recuperating. He also had the photo Janey had taken on All-Stars Sports Day laying in his lap and would’ve been clutching the new bowling ball her parents had given him if she hadn’t urged him to leave it in the family room with the rest of his gifts so they’d all be in one place in the morning.
Megan couldn’t blame him for wanting to hold on to his special day awhile longer. But holding on to the notion that Mac was still coming wasn’t as easy to deal with. It pressed on her heart.
“Sammy, Mac had to fly clear across the country, and sometimes people get tired or delayed. There were a lot of storms everywhere today. You saw it raining here off and on.” She pulled back the covers on his bed, not wanting to make excuses for Mac. But not wanting her son to feel dejected either. The part about the weather was absolutely true. Even though it could also be true that at the last minute Mac had decided not to come after all. Not that she could blame him. She’d given him every opportunity to excuse himself from their lives. Left the door wide open and practically pushed him out of it, giving him full permission to exit. To be gone from them forever.
“Did he call and say he not coming?” Sammy asked, his question more logical than anything she’d been thinking.
“Well, no, he didn’t. But—”
“Then he coming. He told me he always be here,” her son announced. “He be here,” Sammy said emphatically. “Tha why I can’t go to bed. Can’t put on jammies. Say prayers later.”
“Okay.” She gave in. Against her better judgment. After all, how disappointed was he going to be when he woke up in the morning and found out Mac hadn’t shown up?
But she was far too tired to think about all that now. It had been a big day for both of them. She’d simply deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. “Then how about you keep your clothes on, we take off your shoes, and then you can lie down and rest for a bit?”
“Rest till Mac get here.” Sammy nodded agreeably with the new plan and didn’t balk at all while she took off his shoes, picked him up, and laid him on top of his bed.
“Do you want the sheet over you?”
He yawned wide then nodded.
“And let’s put this picture on your dresser first then, so it doesn’t get wrinkled, okay?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded again, his eyes already drooping. “No wrinkle.”
She removed the photo from his hands and placed it on the dresser before covering him with the sheet. Tucking him in, she leaned over and kissed his forehead.
“It was a good birthday. And you’re a great birthday boy.”
“Good birt-day.” He yawned once more.
“I love you, my big seven-year-old.”
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A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his eyelids dipped even more. “Love you, Maw-mee. If I … sleep … you wake … when Mac here?”
She stood up straight, wondering for a moment how she could answer him. But then she didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t have to make him a potentially empty promise. She could tell from his even breathing that he’d already fallen asleep.
Turning off the light switch, she paused in the doorway for a moment watching him. But the sight of him sleeping filled her with so much pleasure, she decided the birthday mess could wait.
A nightlight in the corner cast a dim glow as she settled into the rocking chair across the room from his bed. She hadn’t sat in the cushioned rocker for a while. But through all the years, its familiar feel had always been the same, a comfortable place in the black of night where she’d rocked an infant Sammy to sleep. Or soothed him when he could still fit in her arms on nights a fever or a bad dream kept him from sleeping.
But how he was growing up now! She studied the length of him stretched over the bed, marveling at the boy he was on the outside. And on the inside as well. Intrinsically, his faith in people, and good, and God never wavered.
Oh, if only she’d had that kind of faith when she’d first met Mac. That kind of childlike faith that didn’t only believe—but trusted earnestly. Then she wouldn’t have second-guessed herself or him.
If only she had changed like Mac had—and even Janey. They’d both stopped letting their pasts dictate their futures. But she hadn’t. She’d let all her fears of failing at love again overshadow the love she had for Mac. And she’d let all the lies she’d built up in her mind, all the what-ifs, dilute the blessing of Mac’s love for her. She’d allowed it all to override the gift of happiness that God wanted to give her.
By focusing on the negative, she’d barely given credence to the positive. In every way, she’d looked at Mac’s celebrity as if it were a frightening thing. But lying right on top of Sammy’s dresser was proof of something bigger and grander than that. Something more than she’d ever imagined. A photo of her and Sammy and Mac that because of his celebrity might get noticed in the newspaper—and ultimately might change lives and give promise to so many others.
How could I have been so blind? She looked out the window. How? She searched the rain-dreary darkness. Finding nothing there, she turned back to the soft glow of the room, cradling her head in her hands.
“Oh dear Father in heaven, I don’t want to be like this or live like this anymore. I don’t.” Her mind cried out like never before. Not even after she’d talked to her mom had she really understood and succumbed to His will. But now was different. Now it was all she wanted to do. With every part of her. “I don’t want to try to be in control. I want to surrender. To You, dear Lord.” Tears flowed from her eyes. Her heart wrenched with sorrow and repentance. “Please forgive me for my doubts, for not trusting. From this day forward, please know I trust You to lead me. I’m asking You, please, to guide me. I trust that when I close my eyes at night, You won’t slumber or sleep and You will watch over my Sammy always. I trust that wherever You lead, I don’t need to fear, because You will be right there with me. And I thank You for that, heavenly Father. I thank You for Your mercy and love and forgiveness always. I pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
She wished she’d realized her mistakes sooner. She wished she’d seen them before now, when Mac was already gone from her life.
But she couldn’t control the past any more than she could control the future. Only God was in charge of that. It was all in His hands. She knew that now. She trusted that. And for once in her life it wasn’t an unsettling or a frightening thought. It was a comforting one.
Closing her eyes, she laid her head back on the chair cushion and rocked gently, a feeling of thankfulness washing over her as well as a calming peace she’d never known and had only heard about before.
At the time he’d been standing in O’Hare’s overcrowded terminal, it had seemed like a good idea to drive from Chicago back home to Loveland. And actually, the weather hadn’t been all that threatening on the road. The five plus hours had passed by rather quickly.
Yeah … it seemed like the right thing to do. To drive back for Sammy’s birthday. Even though Sammy would most likely be asleep, it would prove to Megan that he was a man of his word. More than that, it was a chance to take hold of a situation he’d been too prideful to face before.
But once he pulled the compact rental car into Megan’s driveway, his boldness disappeared, like it was stranded out on the highway somewhere. He sat with the engine idling, staring at the digital clock on the dash. It was 11:39 p.m. 11:40. 11:41.
All the hours he’d spent driving, he’d concocted a variety of scenarios. All about what he’d say to Megan. What Megan would say to him. In every one of those scenarios, he’d imagined her changing her mind, saying yes to him and declaring her undying love. He’d never entertained the thought she could say no to the idea of them trying one more time.
At least not until now.
Which caused him to pause. Scratch at the day-old stubble on his chin. And struggle with the choices he had.
He could pull out of the driveway and consider himself lucky he’d gotten home safely.
He could sit and watch the rain run down the windshield all night long.
Or he could do something more constructive than both of those.
He decided on his last choice.
Turning off the ignition, he bowed his head and began to pray. He asked for the right words to say. Words from his heart, that Megan would listen to and hear. Words that he meant, ones she could trust. He prayed for God’s blessing over the two of them, and then he slid out of the car.
Trickles of rain pelted him all the way up Megan’s walk. Standing at her front door, realizing it was midnight and assuming once more Sammy was asleep, he decided to knock instead of ringing the doorbell and taking the chance of waking him.
Once. Twice. Three times. He knocked over and over again, hoping she’d hear. Or maybe she had. Maybe she’d looked out the window and saw it was him and didn’t want to come to the door.
It didn’t matter. He’d driven a long way, and he’d stand outside in the rain all night if he had to. Ironic as it was, he felt proud of the fact that he’d managed to put his ego away. All in the name of love.
Startled out of sleep, Megan sat up in the rocking chair and blinked. She’d heard something, but what?
There it was again. A knock at the front door. What time was it? She glanced at Sammy’s clock radio …11:47?
Heart pounding, she got to her feet, stealthily tiptoed out of Sammy’s bedroom and padded cautiously down the hallway.
Standing at the edge of her entryway, she didn’t know whether to be frightened or worried. She just hoped the knocking would stop. That whoever it was, would go away.
But it kept up. And then, she heard a voice. His voice.
And for more reasons than she could even name—hope, excitement, the possibility of disappointment—her heart began to pound all over again.
“Mac?” Rushing to the sidelight windows that flanked the front door, she peered out at his rain-soaked face. Immediately she unlocked the door and let him in.
“Mac, are you okay? Is everything all right?” It wasn’t just that his clothes dripped with rainwater that alarmed her. It was the way he stood hunched over, like a man who’d been through something. Though she noticed his eyes glowed as if he might be nearing the other side of whatever that “something” was.
A hundred questions ran through her mind, but so many thoughts did, too. Like how she wished she could reach out and touch his rain-soaked hair. Or wipe the raindrops from his cheek. Afraid she might do just that, she only said instead, “Let me get you a towel.”
Starting to walk toward the bathroom, he caught her arm. “Megan, wait. Please.” He held on to her. Tightly.
“Mac, why are you here?” She stood facing him. “Sammy�
�s asleep and—it’s nice of you to come. But—”
“I know. It’s late. I’m sorry.” He nodded an apology. “All the flights were canceled. So I got a rental car.”
“You drove? From Chicago?”
“I knew I’d be too late for Sammy’s party. But I said I’d be here. And … I’m here.”
He was at that. All six feet of him, filling her entryway the way his love had filled—still filled—her heart. And she wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Or how she was going to say it. But this time she wasn’t going to let a chance to talk to him pass again.
“Mac, I need to tell you—” she started to say.
But he pressed a finger to her lips.
“Don’t. Please don’t tell me to go. At least not yet, okay? I have to say something first. Something I realized at the airport today. I saw this mom and her son, and well …” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts. Maybe even his nerve?
“You know, when I played ball, for years I thought the measure of who I was as a man was only reflected in my stats. The same statistics that flashed up on the screen every time I pitched or came up to the plate. And the bad thing about that is those statistics can send you on a roller-coaster ride. Lots of ups and downs. With everyone watching. And it’s not a good ride, trust me. It can make you crazy. Make you do crazy things.” He hung his head before he spoke again.
“But Megan.” He looked up, searching her eyes. “These past months, especially the months since I’ve been with you, let me know that’s not true. Now I know the measure of a man is based on his faith. His family. The people he loves. And I love you and Sammy, Megan, I do. And I don’t know what went wrong between us. If I did too much. Or not enough. I’m not too proud to say I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. And I made a big mistake that night that I let you walk out of my life without even trying to stop you. But with all that said, I realize it’s late, but can we talk now? So I can know for sure there’s not still something between—”
It was her turn to stop him. She pressed her finger to his lips, halting him. She had to. She couldn’t let him go on, looking in such agony, explaining himself. Especially when it should be the other way around, explaining herself to him.
Wedding Homerun in Loveland, Ohio Page 24