Chasing Sunsets (33 page)

“No.” He held her closer, and for a few seconds he brushed the side of his face against hers. “I won’t understand that. I’ll wait for you. And if you don’t come back here, Mary Catherine”—he looked into her eyes again—“I’ll find you.”

There was no fighting her feelings. Love fell like autumn leaves around her, filling her heart and soul and senses. She lifted her face to his as easily as if they’d loved each other all their lives. The kiss started slowly, desperately. But the passion came quickly and made Mary Catherine feel things she’d never felt. She understood how easily two people could fall.

Even the air around her felt like something from a dream. Like all her life had led to this one single moment. She kissed him again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her jaw and her cheekbone. “What if God made us for such a time as this? To be together?”

“I can’t.” She was drowning. If she didn’t step back from him now, she might say things she’d regret, make promises she could never keep. She was breathing hard. They both were. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. “Could you . . . could you be my friend? While I’m gone?”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. For a long time he thought about her question. Mary Catherine knew why. Marcus didn’t want to be just her friend. She didn’t want that either. But it was all she could offer him.

Finally he nodded. “Yes.” His wanting her was still in his eyes, the way she was sure it was still in hers. “If it means staying in touch with you. Sharing my heart with you. Then, yes.” He pulled her close again, and this time they shared a hug. Nothing more. He ran his hand over the back of her head. “I’ll be your friend, Mary Catherine. If that’s what you want.”

The moment was ending—Mary Catherine could sense it. She took a half step back and looked at him one last time, memorizing his face. “If . . .” Tears filled her eyes and she had to blink to see him clearly. “If I was going to love someone . . . it would be you.”

She put her hands on either side of his face and one last time she kissed him. The feeling was different than just a moment ago. Because this time—once again—the kiss meant goodbye. “I always said I could only love a guy who
was real.” She smiled. “Remember? When you said you wanted real?”

He nodded, never breaking eye contact with her. “I meant you. I told you you’re the most rare kind of real.”

“You, too. I mean it, Marcus.” She pressed her fingers beneath her eyes. “I’ve never met a man like you. And for what it’s worth . . . it nearly kills me . . . to say goodbye.”

He didn’t understand. She could see that in his expression, in the depth of his heart. But she’d said all she could say. He mustn’t know about her heart. She wouldn’t tell him. This night would not turn into an hour of pity, of worrying about her and convincing her not to leave. She had to go to Africa. The move was the one right thing she could do in the little time she had left.

She walked with him to the door and stepped outside with him. He hugged her one last time. “I’ll email you. I’ll text and call. Whatever way I can get to you.” He smiled, but tears glistened in his eyes, too. “I’ll be the best friend you ever had.”

The sound that came from her was more cry than laugh. “I believe it.” She allowed herself to get lost in his eyes one last time. This was what she had prayed for, what she had hoped for. That he wouldn’t leave here upset or angry. She placed her hand against his cheek. “Thank you.”

There was no need to explain. Marcus was clearly willing himself to understand.

He kissed her forehead, and then he stepped back and held up his hand. “Bye, Mary Catherine.”

“Bye.”

The distance between them hurt more with every step he took. She wondered what could possibly be worse. A love
that might only last a year . . . or feeling the pain of watching him go?

She stood there until he drove off and then she didn’t try to stop the tears. Her empty arms ached from missing him. And he hadn’t been gone five minutes. She lifted her face to the sky. “I don’t like to ask why, God.” She hugged herself, the tears still streaming down her face. “There’s a reason you gave me this heart. I know.”

A wave of exhaustion came over her. She leaned against the apartment door and the sobs began to come. Quiet, full-body sobs. She was going to be okay. This was the life God had given her. Soon she would begin to feel symptoms of her failing heart. She would feel tired and short of breath and she would know the end was near.

Whether they found a heart for her or not.

When that happened she would let herself relive this night again and again, replaying it from her place in a cold hospital room. And she would feel once more what it felt like for just an hour to be loved. Really loved. And when the time came to leave this place for heaven, she would do so with a full and healed heart. Because she would know at least this much.

She had spared Marcus Dillinger the pain of loving her.

MARCUS COULDN’T STOP
the tears.

He brushed at them, angry and unsure of everything. Why couldn’t she believe him? He would wait for her. Six months . . . six years. Whatever it took. He didn’t want to love anyone but her.

But if she wanted his friendship, he would give her that. It was his only hope, and probably more than she’d planned on offering him. Whatever the reason.

Instead of going home that night he went by Coach’s house. He needed to talk in the worst way. He pulled up in front of the Waynes’ and texted him.
You home?

The response came quickly.
Sure. What’s up?

I’m out front. Can you come here?

The porch light was on in less than a minute, and Coach Wayne stepped out in shorts and a sweatshirt. He walked to the SUV and slid into the passenger seat. “Marcus.”

“Coach.”

He looked concerned. “You okay?”

Marcus couldn’t remember anyone seeing him cry. He kept his composure. “I’m in love with Mary Catherine.”

Coach Wayne visibly relaxed. He smiled. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No.” Marcus wasn’t sure how to explain the situation. He was still trying to understand it himself. “I mean, she doesn’t want me. Or she doesn’t want love.” He looked straight ahead, but all he could see was her face, her green eyes. “She told me she only wants to be friends.”

“Hmmm.” His smile faded. “I didn’t know.”

“She’s moving to Uganda.” Marcus looked at his coach again. “For six months.”

“I knew that. She talked to Rhonda about it.”

Marcus wished he could’ve heard that conversation. Hopefully Rhonda Wayne tried to talk Mary Catherine into staying. Not that it mattered now. She was leaving. Her mind was made up.

“She said I could keep in touch with her . . . while she’s gone.”

“But you want more than friendship.”

“Yes.” Marcus kept a rope around his emotions. He needed answers, not pity. “What do you think? Can I be her friend and still . . . pursue her?”

“I think so. Ultimately the One who knows best is God.” Coach Wayne gave him a pat on his knee. “If she’s part of the plans He has for you, then yes. Chase that girl, Marcus. You’ll know when it’s time to let her go. If that time comes.”

Marcus nodded. He liked how Coach said that. There was only one other thing he wanted to do. “Would you pray with me?”

“Of course.” Coach Wayne kept his hand on Marcus’s knee. “Father, You know how we men need to chase. Give Marcus the ability to do both—love and chase—even in the form of a friendship. At least until You make Your plans for his life clear. Keep Mary Catherine safe and grow the connection between her and Marcus according to Your will. Thank You, God, ahead of time. We trust You in all this. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Amen.” Marcus felt a little better. “Thanks.”

“You got it. We can talk more on the plane if you want.” He opened the car door. “See you in the morning.”

Marcus drove home, his heart still heavy. He had no idea when he’d see Mary Catherine again. He was back to baseball for now.

Back to chasing sunsets.

He thought about Shelly and how he hadn’t known whether he had pursued her or she had pursued him. The
idea sounded ridiculous now. But then, he had never known what it meant to want to pursue a girl until Mary Catherine.

If God would allow him to chase after her, he would do so every day, with all his heart. He would pray for her and check in on her often. She wanted his friendship, so there would be good days ahead. Times when they would text and laugh and tease. Times when they would share their hearts and fears and hopes and dreams. Even from different continents. And not for one day would he think about giving up on her.

Not unless God Himself made that clear.

TYLER AMES MADE
the drive to Sami’s grandparents’ house early the next morning. Two hours before the flight to Arizona. There was something he had to ask them, something that couldn’t wait.

Her grandfather opened the door. It was only seven thirty, but already the older man was dressed in a stylish dark gray suit, ready for the next power meeting. “Tyler.” He opened the door and Tyler stepped inside. The man looked slightly bothered. “How’ve you been?”

“Well, thank you.” He shook the man’s hand. “You?”

“We’d like to see our granddaughter more often.” He softened a bit. “Of course, we’ve been at our San Francisco home.” He chuckled, but he made no attempt to invite Tyler into the house. “We’ve only been back a week.”

“She told me she’s planning to come by. Maybe tonight.”

“Perfect.” Mr. Dawson studied him. “You look good, Tyler. Coaching now, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir. It’s going better than I hoped.” Tyler needed to get the question out. If he didn’t get back on the road soon he’d miss his ten o’clock flight. “Anyway, I came because Sami and I have gotten very close.”

The man remained unmoving. As if he had no idea what was coming.

“We share the same faith, same dreams and goals.” Tyler could feel sweat on his palms. He would probably be one of the few guys in history turned down at this phase of “the ask.” He put the thought out of his head. “Anyway, before I leave for Arizona this morning, I wanted to ask you.”

Mr. Dawson blinked. “Ask me what, young man?”

“For Sami’s hand in marriage. I want to marry her, sir.” Regardless of what happened next, Tyler felt a rush of joy. Just saying the words left his heart practically bursting.

Tyler really wasn’t sure what Sami’s grandfather was going to do next. For several seconds he only stood there, like he was either in shock or thinking of a way to tell Tyler no.

But then his expression changed and his eyes grew damp. “Tyler.” He hesitated. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

“Sir?”

“You see . . .” His chin quivered and he shook his head, clearly trying to find the words. “When you left Samantha . . . she was never the same.” He put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I vowed you would never break her heart again.” He allowed the hint of a smile. “Can you promise me that, Tyler? That you’ll never break her heart again?”

Tyler gave the man a hug, the kind a father and son might share at a reunion. “Yes, sir. With everything I am, I promise you.”

Mr. Dawson stepped back and this time his smile stretched across his face. “Well, then. My answer is yes. You have my blessing.”

Sami’s grandmother joined them. “What’s this?” She was wiping her hands on a dish towel. When she saw Tyler she stopped short. “Hello, Tyler. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was one step closer to marrying Sami. The whole world was okay. “I asked your husband’s permission to marry Sami.” He hesitated. “Samantha.”

“And I said yes.” Mr. Dawson put his arm around his wife. “Looks like we’ll be hosting a wedding!”

Sami’s grandma hugged him. “We’re very proud of you, Tyler. Of the man you’ve become. I’m sure Samantha will be very happy.”

“Any idea when you’ll ask her?” Mr. Dawson crossed his arms.

“Soon. If I can pull my ideas together.” Tyler grinned. He’d never felt so sure of anything. “I have spring training first. But sometime after that.”

He wrapped up the conversation, got back in his car, and headed to the airport. They wouldn’t have much money, not at first, anyway. His salary with the Dodgers was still entry level. And now she’d taken the job at the youth center. The pay was half what she’d made at the PR firm. But none of that mattered.