A Brush of Wings (8 page)

Mary Catherine slipped out of bed and felt the room tilt a little. She stayed in one spot till she had her bearings. At least her breathing seemed back to normal. She moved to the sofa beneath her bedroom window, sat down, and grabbed her laptop. Food would take care of the dizzy feeling and restore her energy. But she had something to do before she could eat.

She opened her email and found Marcus’s letter. The one where he had asked her if she was okay and told her he missed her every hour. She was wrong to let this much time pass without responding to him. Especially since he was worried about her.

Mary Catherine read his words again, let them soak their way into her heart.

I have to be honest. I have the strangest thought that something’s wrong with you. Maybe I just don’t want you to leave for Africa. Or maybe it’s something else.

A shiver ran down her arms. How could he have known something was wrong? He had no idea about her heart defect. Mary Catherine finished reading his letter. When she reached the end she read his last words through teary eyes.

I’ll let you go. It never feels right being so far away. Just remember I’m always thinking of you. Praying for you.

Missing you.

Love, Marcus

Why hadn’t he just faded into this next season of life the way Mary Catherine had expected? She had set him free for his own good. He deserved more than her damaged heart and uncertain future. There was no point to the two of them. Yet she loved him more now than ever before. Like he’d woven himself into the fabric of her soul.

She hit the reply button and started to type.

Dear Marcus,

I’m sorry I didn’t write back sooner. I should have. Things have been busy at work and at home, trying to get ready for the big trip. I’m nowhere near organized. You’d laugh at this, but I haven’t even gotten my shots. Queen of procrastination, I know.

She stopped and looked out the window. The evening was perfect. She wished she was still at the beach.

Instead she was trying to find the right words to tell Marcus Dillinger goodbye—again. One last time. She blinked back fresh tears and sighed. “I’m just glad you’re not here in person,” she whispered. Because after today she might actually cancel her flight to Uganda and stay here with Marcus. Glad for every minute they might have together. Even if she only had a handful of months.

Focus,
she told herself.
Your plans are set
. She looked at the computer screen again and her fingers began to move across the keys.

Anyway, I wanted to thank you for writing, for telling me how you felt, and for your concerns.

I think God’s given you a special discernment when it comes to me. Yes, I’m definitely distracted about this trip. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I should really be going for six months. But then I remember how I’ve always wanted to go back. I don’t want to miss my chance.

That’s probably why you’ve been worried about me. I’m fine. Really. Just a little anxious about leaving. So if you could pray about that, I’d appreciate it.

She stared at her letter. Awfully superficial. Borderline dishonest. And she hadn’t dealt with the rest of what he’d written. The hardest part.

She started typing again.

About the missing, it’s not much fun, is it?

She hesitated.

I think about you, too. Sometimes I actually hurt from wishing I could see you again. But the important thing is we’ve each got our dreams to follow. I’ll be gone six months . . . and you’ve got the season. Everything you’ve ever wanted, Marcus. You’re the best pitcher in baseball, you’ve got the Youth Center, and a faith that’s growing all the time.

You’ll forget about me eventually.

She read that line again and winced.
Too harsh.
She deleted it.

You might not forget about me—I certainly hope not, anyway. I’d like to think I’m fairly unforgettable. But eventually you’ll come to understand this is for the best. God will bring someone into your life where the timing is better for both of you, where you both want the same things.

Two tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them with the back of her hand and tried to see the computer screen.

I guess I just wanted to thank you for your letter, and for praying for me, and to tell you I’m okay.

Tears blurred her eyes again.

Oh . . . and I think it’s all right if we both hold on to that one memory, the two of us dancing on your balcony.

Some people live their whole lives and don’t have a night like that.

Play for God. I’ll pray for you, too.

Love, Mary Catherine

By the time she finished the letter, Mary Catherine had lost her appetite. For food, anyway. She read it again and hit send. Then she closed her computer and dried her eyes.
That’s it.
She sniffed and hurried to her feet.
No more
. She wasn’t going to sit here crying about Marcus.

Their time had passed.

Get organized,
she ordered herself.
You’re going to run out of days.

She went to her closet, pulled out her suitcase, and set it on the bed. Her second suitcase went on the floor, where it would stay—a reminder that she needed to buy crayons and kids’ books.

For the next hour—until Sami came home—Mary Catherine went through her clothes, sorting out what to take and what to leave behind. The chore helped. She felt more organized, more focused on her flight out of LA next week.

But it didn’t stop her from thinking about a private balcony, an LA night sky clearer than most, and a song falling gently around her.

And the dancing she’d done in the arms of a man she would miss as long as she lived.

Even if she never saw him again.

5

E
MBER PLACED THE CALL
to Front Line Studios just after two o’clock.

Mary Catherine answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Mary Catherine?”

“This is she.” Her voice sounded weary.

She’s sick,
Ember thought.
We don’t have long.
She felt the heaviness of anxiety. Something angels felt only on Earth. She closed her eyes and continued. “Yes, hello. I’m with Janie Omer’s team, helping with details.” It was true. Angels always helped with details of mission trips. Whether humans knew it or not. Ember steadied her voice. “I’m checking to see if you’ve gotten your shots?”

Mary Catherine uttered a soft groan. “Not yet. I keep meaning to.”

“Okay, well, here’s what you need to do.” Ember explained that the clinic around the corner from Mary Catherine’s office could handle all the shots she needed. “They close at five.”

“Hmmm.” Mary Catherine hesitated. “I don’t get off work till six or so.”

“Ask your boss for the time.” Ember tried to sound convincing. “You need the shots today for the medicine to work in time.”

Another pause and then a quiet laugh from Mary Catherine. “I guess I don’t have any choice.”

“Right.” Ember could hear her own smile in her voice. “Thanks. Janie will be glad you took care of this.”

MARY CATHERINE HATED
asking to leave early, but it was only Monday. If she still had work to do, she could stay late another day this week. And the volunteer from Janie’s team was right. If she didn’t get the shots today, she wouldn’t be protected by the time she reached Uganda. And in her case vaccination was crucial. Her heart couldn’t take a serious illness right now.

At four fifteen and with her boss’s blessing, Mary Catherine walked out the door of the studio offices, but before she could take a single step she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. “Marcus . . .”

He was standing there, leaning against a light pole, his eyes locked on hers. He wore dark jeans and a lightweight white cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up. His eyes shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. He took a few steps toward her. “Figured if I wanted to have a real conversation with you, I had to come here.”

“Is that right?” A rainbow of emotions colored Mary Catherine’s soul. Suddenly her energy soared and she felt a smile fill her face. He was here! Marcus had come all the way to Los Angeles for her! To talk to her. Her knees felt weak and her resolution weaker.

He held out his hands. No man ever had kinder, deeper eyes than Marcus had right now. “Mary Catherine . . . come here. Please.”

She had missed him more than she knew, even more than she’d been willing to admit. And here, with him standing a few feet from her, Mary Catherine felt like they were the only two people in the world. What else could she do but go to him?

As soon as his arms were around her Mary Catherine forgot every reason why she had tried to put him out of her mind. In this moment, her heart was well and she wasn’t leaving for Uganda and everything was absolutely right with the universe.

All because she was in Marcus Dillinger’s embrace.

Her words came in a whisper. “I missed you.” She held on to his waist, protected, safe. Whole.

“There.” He kissed the side of her head, stroking her hair. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

After a while, Marcus drew back and studied her. “How can you be more beautiful than I remembered? Your face, your eyes. Your heart. You’re perfect.”

Mary Catherine ignored the irony. At least she looked nice. She wore new jeans and a white T-shirt with a navy button-down cardigan. She’d lost weight since being sick. New clothes were a necessity.

She caught her breath and looked down the street. “Wanna walk with me?”

“Always.” He smiled, but there was no denying the depth in his expression. “Where to?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I need shots. For Uganda.” She pointed. “A few blocks away there’s a clinic.”

He took her hand. “It’s a date.”

The feel of his fingers between hers made her want to stop time. Live in this single day, this walk with Marcus. She grinned at him. “I told you, I’m the queen of procrastination. I was supposed to get these weeks ago.”

“Me, too.” They walked slowly, their arms brushing against each other with every step.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re getting shots?”

“Yes!” He tried to keep a straight face. “Didn’t you hear?”

“You’re quitting baseball and going to Africa?” She laughed and the sensation was freeing. How long had it been since she’d laughed out loud? Since she’d even had the energy to laugh?

He stopped and faced her. “You already know?” He nodded, still playing serious. “Hanging up the ball and glove, moving to Uganda. I’ll run the orphanage next to yours.”

“Mmmm.” She started walking again. “Because every village needs two orphanages.”

“Exactly.”

Mary Catherine laughed, and again the feeling was wonderful. “Perfect. We’ll do recess together.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “I’ll teach them to play baseball.”

“And I’ll teach them to dance.”

“And to skydive.” He winked at her. “If they ever get the chance.”

Mary Catherine laughed once more, but this time it fell a little flat. She would never skydive again or share recess with Marcus in Uganda. They had today. She would have to hang on to that. They grew quiet, and she was intensely aware of his presence. “When do you go back?”

“Tonight. Ten o’clock.” He sighed and lifted his face to the blue sky, then turned back to her. “Too soon.”

Mary Catherine stopped, stunned. “You flew in today?”

“Landed at three thirty. Took Uber to your office.” Marcus raised his brow. “Matthew West is the reason I’m here.”

“The singer?”

Marcus laughed. “Coach’s wife loves the guy’s music. He took her to a show and gave us today off.”

“I always did love Matthew West.” She smiled and started walking. “You’re here by yourself?”