And all of it had started with a single visit to Hope Community Church and a stranger named Beck.
When Tyler finished his workout and was back in his apartment, when his shoulder pain made him wish he could crawl down the drain looking for even one more pill, he did something he should’ve done a long time ago. He opened the laptop and looked up the church. Then using the phone that hung on the wall of the apartment, he dialed the number.
“Hello?” The man sounded upbeat. “Hope Community, Pastor Roman.”
“Hi. This is Tyler Ames.” He dropped to the chair at the kitchen table. “I . . . wanted to thank you. For letting me use your name as a reference at Merrill Place.” He held his elbow against his body. “I got the job. Things are working out.”
The man hesitated. “I’m sorry.” He seemed confused. “Do I know you?”
“We never met.” Tyler felt slightly embarrassed. Clearly Beck hadn’t mentioned their conversation to the pastor. “I stopped by your church a few weeks ago. A volunteer helped me out.”
“I see.”
Tyler felt the sweat on his forehead again. His knees were shaking. “The man . . . he told me about the job. He said I should give your name as a reference.” Tyler wondered if he had dialed the wrong number. “I just wanted to thank you. And him.”
“Oh.” Pastor Roman sounded unaware of the situation. “I’m glad it worked out.” He paused. “What did you say the volunteer’s name was?”
“Beck.” Tyler could picture the guy, built like a linebacker, deep concern in his eyes. “He’s a paramedic in town.”
“Hmmm.” The pastor sounded concerned. “There’s no volunteer by that name at Hope Community Church.” Then it seemed to hit him. “Wait! You must mean Burt. He’s a retired firefighter. Hangs out here and serves with our soup kitchen.”
“You’re sure? He said his name was Beck.” Had the pain pills messed with his memory? Tyler squeezed his eyes shut. Focus. Don’t think about the pain, he told himself.
“I’m positive.” Pastor Roman’s voice held a smile now. “Burt’s always giving out information. Must’ve been him.”
Tyler couldn’t argue. There was no point. “Yes, sir. Well, tell him thank you for me.”
“I will.” He seemed to write something down. “Tyler Ames, right?”
“Yes.” Clearly the pastor didn’t follow baseball. Just as well. “Thank you.”
“Okay, then. Come by anytime.” Warmth filled the man’s words. “The door’s always open.”
Again Tyler thanked him. For a long time after he hung up the phone, Tyler didn’t move.
Sure, he’d been high on Oxycodone. Much about his days of being homeless was lost in the blur of medication. But he could still see the paramedic hovering over him that night at the baseball field, still see his nametag. Two things he absolutely knew for sure: the man was not old enough to be retired. And his name definitely wasn’t Burt.
It was Beck.
The pastor’s final words stayed with Tyler long after he hung up the phone. His parents had turned their backs on him, his team had cut him without so much as a thank you, and his landlady had kicked him out. But the new people in his life, the ones who loved God—they had open hearts and open doors. Beck . . . Burt. Whoever. People cared about Tyler now, even though he deserved none of their kindness.
Amazing grace . . . how sweet the sound.
The song played in his mind once more and a thought occurred to him, dawning somewhere in his walled-up heart. All of this had happened since he stepped foot in a church. Since he fell to his knees and stared at a rugged, wooden cross. So maybe . . . maybe Virginia’s God wasn’t part of her dementia.
Maybe He was real after all.
22
SAMI’S BOSS STEPPED INTO her office late that Friday, his face masked in concern. “A couple things.” He paused. “Your client is very happy. That’s the good news.”
“Okay.” Sami pictured the work she’d done for the Atlantis Resort. The property in the Bahamas especially was receiving more favorable press than she had hoped. “What’s the bad news?”
“You need to fly to Florida right away. They want to go over a few ideas they have for the next stage of the campaign. They want you there in person.”
She thought about the work for other clients she had lined up for next week. “How many days?”
“Fly in Sunday. Work Monday and Tuesday, then fly back Wednesday morning.”
“That’s fine.” She would figure out the other clients later. “I’ll set it up.”
Sami’s job included travel, but neither she nor her boss expected this trip. Especially with so little notice. She called her contact with Atlantis and set up the details. The trip came together quickly with the first half of Monday wide open. Her heart beat faster just looking at the schedule. Her client’s offices were in Pensacola.
Tyler’s hometown.
The rest of the day passed slowly, but that night she and Mary Catherine had planned on pizza and a movie at the apartment. Arnie had a late meeting, and Mary Catherine had kept the evening open. “Roomies’ Night,” she called it. Sami waited until they were sitting in the living room around a box of pizza before she took a deep breath and looked at her friend. “I need to fly to Pensacola.”
“Now?” Mary Catherine took a slice of pizza, her interest clearly piqued. “Like soon?”
“Sunday.” Sami had looked forward to this moment all day. She would tell Arnie tomorrow on their date. But she needed to sort through her feelings about Tyler first. Here, with Mary Catherine.
“Pensacola.” Her roommate took a bite and chewed it slowly. Then her eyes lit up and she gasped. “Wait! Isn’t that where your old guy lives? The baseball player?”
“Yes. Tyler Ames.” Her slice of pizza sat untouched. She was too nervous to think about eating. “I have time Monday. So should I—”
Mary Catherine dropped her pizza onto her plate and jumped to her feet. “Of course! You’re supposed to see Tyler. Why else would God have brought this trip together?” She paced to the window and back, her eyes sparkling. “Are you going to tell him?”
Sami uttered a quick laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll even see him.”
“You have to.” Her roommate returned to the floor and took a bite of pizza. “Come on. We were just talking about him.”
“You were talking about him.” She laughed again.
“Same thing.” Mary Catherine thought for a moment. “Did he write back on Facebook?”
“No.” Sami had looked every day. She had no reason to be disappointed by the fact.
“Well, then, this is perfect, Sami. Don’t you see?” Her roommate’s joy was contagious. “He writes you, you write him. You drop in for a surprise visit.”
“Just like that.” Sami was still too distracted to eat.
“Yes! Just like that.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Arnie’s getting so serious. Any day now he’ll probably ask you to marry him. But you can’t say yes, because you still have feelings for the guy who came first. So you have to see him, Sami. You do!” She sounded set on the matter. “You have no choice, really.”
Sami’s stomach hurt. “I don’t know.”
Mary Catherine leaned back on her hands, a satisfied look on her face. “So this is why.”
“Why what?” Sami faced her roommate.
“Why you wanted a night with just the two of us. So I could talk you into seeing him.” As always when matters turned serious, Mary Catherine calmed down. Her craziness took a back seat when Sami’s heart was involved. “If I can skydive, you can pay a visit to Tyler Ames.” She leaned close again. “Look at you. You’ve been thinking about him all week.”
“I have.” Sami stared at her cold pizza. “I keep checking Facebook in case he writes again. But what would be the point?”
“He was thinking about you, we know that much.” Mary Catherine’s enthusiasm was building again. “But he isn’t going to start some pen-pal relationship when you’r
e clearly taken.”
“True.” For a while they let the facts settle around them.
Mary Catherine stood and paced again, then she sat on the arm of the sofa. “Still . . . you have to see him.”
“What’s the point? I mean, you’re right. I’m taken.” Sami was working to convince herself. “Besides, it’s been over between us for a long time.”
Mary Catherine looked straight to Sami’s heart. “What if it’s not? Can you move ahead without knowing?”
And like that, Sami had her answer. Things with Tyler might be over, yes. But maybe she needed to see him again, look in his eyes, and know for sure that somehow she hadn’t missed something. She had to feel with all certainty that Tyler Ames was a no. Then—and only then—could she come back to California and do the one thing she wasn’t ready to think about.
Figure out what to do with Arnie Bell.
SAMI’S DATE WITH Arnie that night was more sedate than usual. Or maybe she just noticed it more in light of the dizzying thoughts filling her head and heart. Either way, Arnie talked about his case, how he was gathering evidence and conducting interviews around the clock. The lawsuit could still become a class-action ordeal, in which case Arnie would become only one of a team of lawyers involved. Either way the case consumed him.
On top of that he had a trip to New York set for the first three days of next week. The exact same time Sami would be in Pensacola. Arnie held her hands as he talked, and when they finished eating they strolled along Third Street toward Santa Monica Boulevard and Ocean Avenue. “Let’s walk along the pier.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “I need this time with you.”
“Me, too.” She hesitated, waiting to see if he had more to say about his work. When he didn’t, she held her breath and dropped the news. “My week was a little crazy, too. I’m flying to Pensacola on Sunday for a couple days of meetings with the Atlantis team.”
“Wow . . . we’ll be gone at the same time.” He slowed down, his eyes on hers. “Pensacola. That’s where your old boyfriend plays baseball.”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. They had discussed Tyler early in their relationship. “I mean, he’s hurt. But he lives there.”
Arnie seemed to mull over her words as they kept walking. “How did you know he was hurt?”
“Saw it on a newsfeed somewhere. Google, maybe.” She didn’t want to dwell on the fact that she knew what Tyler Ames was doing. “Anyway, yes. He lives there.”
“Okay.” Arnie nodded slowly, his eyes straight ahead again. “Will you see him?”
She didn’t want to mention the private Facebook messages. One day, maybe. Not now. “I haven’t told him I’m coming.” She kept her tone light to cover up her guilt. After all, she’d talked with Tyler on Facebook. But how could she tell him that? “I might look him up. It’s been a long time.”
Again Arnie took his time processing. “Should I worry?”
“About me seeing Tyler?” Sami laughed, but it fell flat. She was being dishonest and she hated it. “There’s nothing to worry about.” Not yet, she thought.
“Okay.” Arnie smiled and resumed his earlier pace. “Just making sure.” They walked a few more steps. “The thing about this case is the amount of evidence. You know? Like I could take a lifetime gathering information.”
Sami tried to switch gears. Apparently they were done talking about Pensacola and Tyler Ames and anything remotely related to her. She nodded. “Absolutely.”
“The trick is knowing when I have enough information and making sure it’s the strongest stuff I can find. All within my deadline.” He shook his head. “It’s a great challenge, Samantha. Really.”
“I’m sure.” She volleyed feedback whenever the conversation demanded it. But her mind was no longer on a walk with her boyfriend along a moonlit boulevard toward a southern California pier. It was on a different, distant shore, two thousand miles away in Pensacola, Florida.
With a boy she had never quite forgotten.
JUST AFTER FOUR o’clock Sunday afternoon, Sami’s American Airlines flight arrived in Pensacola. Despite Mary Catherine’s convincing argument and an entire day of arguing with herself, Sami still hadn’t decided whether she should see Tyler. Sure, they’d talked on Facebook, and yes, he had straightened up. But that didn’t mean he had found his way back to the boy he’d been the day he boarded the bus to Billings.
If she looked him up, it was because she wanted to find that guy, the one she’d lost along the way. And even if she found him, the real Tyler, then what? She had Arnie. A serious boyfriend who wanted to marry her—even if she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about him. Either way, why seek out Tyler now?
But as soon as she completed that round of silent arguments, Sami would look out the window at a sky full of puffy white clouds and remember the feel of Tyler’s arm against hers, the way she felt in his embrace. The way she had missed him. And with the certainty of her next breath, she couldn’t imagine flying to Pensacola and not finding him.
She collected her bags, exhausted from the emotional tug-of-war. Maybe if she went by the baseball stadium she would have a sense of what she should do. She had nowhere else to go, nothing else on her agenda tonight. Tyler had said he was on the mend, working toward the Big Leagues again. He might even be at the facility now.
The forecast showed high seventies and blue skies. For a moment, Sami thought about renting a convertible. The sort of car she might have driven if Tyler were still in her life. But she settled on a sensible four-door sedan. Her client might think she wasn’t serious if she showed up with the top down, hair windblown. Ten minutes later, Sami pulled into the Bayfront Stadium parking lot. Only a few cars were parked near a side entrance.
The team might even be on the road. Sami used her phone to check the Blue Wahoos’ schedule and what she found surprised her. Their season had ended weeks ago. She thought about the time of year. October. Yes, of course their season was over. Minor league baseball playoffs were a month before the majors. Any baseball fan should’ve known that.
So maybe one of the cars parked here was Tyler’s. If anyone was here on a Sunday night it would be him—working around the clock to get back on the pitching mound. Sami drove slowly toward the side entrance and parked her car near the others. Her heart pounded, and the palms of her hands felt damp.
Are you here, Tyler? Still working on your dream? She cut the engine and stared at the entrance for a long time. Being here took her back, the way she knew it would. The crack of the bat, the smell of fresh-cut grass on the ball field. The stadium was beautiful and with her windows rolled down, Sami could hear the nearby surf. The view from the parking lot was spectacular.
Sami breathed in the sweet ocean air. She couldn’t come this far and miss her chance. The conversation might not go anywhere. It might be as shallow and matter-of-fact as the Facebook messages. But she had to find him, had to look into his eyes and see for herself if any remnant of the old Tyler Ames remained.
Once her heart was made up, there was no turning back. She climbed out of the rental, locked the doors, and headed for the entrance. Inside she found a security guard reading a book. He looked up, uninterested. “Can I help you?”
“My friend plays for the team.” Sami smiled, looking past the guard station to a hallway and a series of offices. “I’m trying to find him.”
“Not many players here today. Just coaches mostly.”
“That’s fine. Maybe I could talk to one of them.”
The man squinted. “What player you looking for?”
“Tyler Ames. He’s a pitcher.”
He seemed to weigh her request. “Hold on.” He picked up a phone on his desk and turned his chair so she couldn’t see his face. It was impossible to hear his conversation, but after a few seconds he hung up and turned to her again. “Stay here. Jep Black’s coming out. He’s the manager.”
“Thank you.” Sami leaned against the door and waited.
A minute passed and then a squat man with a Blue W
ahoos jacket and baseball cap approached her. He wasn’t smiling. “Can I help you?”
She held out her hand. “I’m Samantha Dawson. An old friend of Tyler Ames.” She smiled. “I’m in town on business. Thought I’d look him up.”
“Tyler was cut. He doesn’t play for us anymore.” The man looked guarded. “I’m sorry.”
Sami tried not to react. Tyler hadn’t said anything about being cut. He was on the mend, working toward the Bigs. She scrambled for something to say. “Did that . . . happen recently?”
“He was released the day after his injury.” Jep Black shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and then back at Sami. “Lousy deal. Tyler’s a great pitcher.”
None of this made sense. Sami chastised herself for not checking first. “Is he . . . playing somewhere else?”
“He’s still in town far as I know.” Jep lowered his voice. “Last I heard he was working at Merrill Place—a retirement center.” He took a step back. Again he seemed careful with his words. “If you find him, tell him we’re pulling for him.”
“Yes. I’ll tell him.” She was stunned. Too shocked to do anything but find her way back to her car. “Thank you.”
Sami sat behind the wheel, not moving. Tyler was working at a retirement center? No wonder he hadn’t gone into detail or written back. How could he be working on a return to the game if he’d been cut? If no one else had picked him up? Of course they hadn’t. Especially after his injury. Sami used her phone to find the address. Then she punched it in her GPS.
Once Merrill Place was in sight, she parked along the curb across the street. So this was where Tyler worked. Doing what? As far as she knew he had no training in anything but baseball.
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