Authors: Karen Kingsbury
If only she had money, a fortune stashed away somewhere.
She would have paid for Tyler’s surgery in a heartbeat to thank him for helping her mother. Since that wasn’t possible, Cheryl did the only thing she could do, the only way she knew to help the young man get the medical care he needed.
Right there in the hallway outside her mother’s room, she closed her eyes, bowed her head, and begged God for a miracle for Tyler Ames.
TYLER POUNDED THROUGH
the rest of his workout, pushing past the pain in his shoulder. The hard work kept his mind off the burning sensation otherwise radiating from his shattered labrum. The workout was good for another reason: as long as he kept moving, he could tolerate the shakes.
Instead of thinking about how he could ease his pain, he thought about Cheryl’s visit.
He had wondered about both of Virginia’s grown children—whether they ever really visited. Clearly Ben would be much older now, too. Tyler wasn’t sure if Virginia would remember him outside of the young man she still believed him to be. Maybe that was why he didn’t seem to come around.
Either way, he looked forward to more conversations with Cheryl. Maybe she could fill in the missing pieces of their past, the bits that Virginia alluded to. Tyler did a final set of crunches and then stood facing the mirror. Squats were next. He attacked the first set with a vengeance. He wasn’t sure, but maybe God had a plan in all this. The job at Merrill Place, the conversations with Virginia, the words of “Amazing Grace,” and now the moment with Cheryl Conley.
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
S
AMI’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’re 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.”