The Masterpiece

by Francine Rivers

  The crushing irony was that the night White Boy plummeted to his death, the Bird flew. BRD wasn’t just Bobby Ray Dean’s initials anymore. He became the Bird. The half-finished piece he’d painted that night was in a heaven spot. It would have cost the city big money to have it buffed, so it stayed.

  “Where are Reaper and Lardo now?”

  “Dead. Killed at a party. Couple of older guys came in looking for Reaper’s brother and figured one was as good as the other.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “I was supposed to be at Reaper’s that night, but I was doing some stupid project for my history teacher. Playing the game, trying to get through high school.”

  Had he refused all opportunities for a higher education out of penance? “I went a little crazy that night and blasted Turk Street with red paint. Cops caught me and I ended up in juvie.”

  “Anyone try to bail you out?”

  “Are you kidding?” Roman gave a dark laugh. “The foster couple I’d been living with was glad to be rid of me. The court decided I needed a change of scenery and sent me up to Masterson Ranch. Talk about culture shock.” He shook his head. “They boarded horses and had a hundred head of cattle as well as half a dozen boys. I wasn’t cooperative. I did everything I could to get kicked out.”

  “That’s where you met Jasper Hawley.”

  “Yeah. He looks mellow, but he’s persistent.”

  “He got to you.”

  “He’s a hard man to shake. He’s still keeping tabs on me. Calls me one of his ‘lost boys.’”

  Brian smiled. “I thought he was your father when I met him.”

  “Really? How’s that? We don’t look anything alike.”

  “He loves you like a son.”

  Roman didn’t want to think about that. He hadn’t wanted to love anyone until he met Grace. People died. People left. “He always seems to call or show up when I’m in crisis mode. I don’t know how he does that.” Considering the disappointment in Jasper’s tone during their last conversation, he figured Jasper had finally given up on him. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.

  “God nudges people.” Brian opened a cabinet. “Most people just don’t pay attention.” He measured coffee and put the basket in the coffeemaker, filled a carafe, and poured it into the reservoir.

  “I’ve told you more than I’ve told anyone.” Including Grace.

  “I’ll hold it in trust.” Brian considered him for a moment. “God has had His hand on you for a long time, my friend.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

  “Maybe you need to go back and look at everything with new eyes. From where I’m sitting, God saved your life several times, not just that one time in Santa Clarita.” His expression was intense, as though he were trying to drill through steel. “Jesus came to set you free, Roman, not remind you constantly of where you missed the mark. We’re saved by grace . . .”

  His fleshly mind went to Grace, God’s instrument to keep him alive and give him one more chance to get things right. And he’d insulted her with a naive offer of what he considered a relationship. No wonder she ran.

  He’d let her go, and now here he was thinking about her again. He refocused on what Brian was saying and knew what he meant. God’s grace covered it all.

  Brian laughed softly. “I can always tell when you’re tuning me out.”

  “I hear you. I’ll think about it.” Maybe he should go back to the Tenderloin. He had unfinished business there.

  Brian rubbed his hands together. “Could I talk the Bird into doing some flying for me? Graffiti is the kind of art that appeals to my parishioners.”

  Roman remembered the police officer in the tunnel. “I’m not blasting walls anymore. Gave my word.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything illegal, Roman. It’d be in the open, no black hoodies necessary.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Something conspicuous on the wall facing the street. I want people to know there’s a church in the industrial park. Of course, I need to get permission from our landlord, but he’s a cool guy and a Christian. I think he’d go for it.”

  Ideas flashed like a slideshow in Roman’s mind. Every time he read the Bible, he remembered paintings he’d seen in cathedrals and museums across Europe, others only in his head. He felt a spark and sensed the Holy Spirit bringing it to flame.

  What do you say, Bobby Ray Dean? Want to do a little art for Me?

  Roman laughed. Graffiti for God? What an outrageous idea! He itched to have a pencil in his hand.

  Brian grinned. “Looks like you’re already thinking about it.”

  GRACE SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, her laptop open, editing a business brochure. She peered out the window. It had been an hour since her aunt had taken Samuel out in the stroller. She’d never known Aunt Elizabeth to take a neighborhood walk, let alone ask to have responsibility for a baby.

  The front door opened. “We’re back!” Aunt Elizabeth called from the foyer. “I didn’t give Samuel to the gypsies.” She appeared in the kitchen doorway, cheeks flushed, smiling, Samuel perched happily on her hip. “Half a dozen neighbors wanted to know what I was doing with a baby. I told them I found him in the supermarket and couldn’t resist tossing him in the basket.” She chuckled. “I never knew I had so many nosy neighbors, but then again, I haven’t taken a walk around the block in years.” She looked over Grace’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What’re you working on?”

  “Editing a brochure for a new business venture.”

  “How did you get the work?”

  “Harvey Bernstein has sent a few jobs my way.” Her aunt had never met her boss at the public relations firm.

  “Looks good. Then what will you do?”

  “I have three other projects lined up, and Jasper Hawley has connections with several high schools in the Sacramento area. He’s recommended me as an online tutor. I had my first inquiry this morning. I’ll meet Kayden and his father on Skype during Samuel’s nap time.”

  Aunt Elizabeth patted her shoulder. “I think you’re going to do very well, Grace.”

  The unexpected compliment and pat on her back made tears well up. She had tried for years to win her aunt’s approval. “I hope so.” She saved the file and closed the laptop. “I can take him.” She reached out for Samuel.

  Aunt Elizabeth shifted away. “He’s fine where he is.” She took an arrowroot cookie from the box and gave it to him.

  “He’s going to get messy with that. Your blouse—”

  “Don’t worry about my blouse. It’s washable silk.” She leaned against the counter. “You young people seem to be creating your own careers these days.”

  “Sometimes out of necessity. Thankfully, I’m not doing this completely on my own. Shanice and Ashley helped create the website and have been posting about it on social media.”

  “How much will the tutoring job pay?”

  Jasper had suggested charging forty dollars an hour, but Grace felt more comfortable starting at thirty. If she helped Kayden, she would have one reference and hopefully begin building from there. She grinned at her aunt. “I’ll have to keep a spreadsheet of my income so I won’t get in trouble with the IRS.”

  “You bet you will.” Aunt Elizabeth laughed. “I won’t have my niece become a tax dodger.” She shifted Samuel to her other hip. “You always were a good tutor, Grace. You helped Patrick Moore earn that college scholarship, didn’t you? He never would have made it out of high school, let alone through UCLA, without your help.”

  She might not have received the credits, but she had learned a lot through the various classes Patrick took. “He tried.”

  “Did he?”

  “He was good at some things, Aunt Elizabeth.”

  “I suppose that’s a healthy way to look at an unhealthy situation, but what about your dreams, Grace? You put them on hold to help him. When is it your turn?” Aunt Elizabeth put Samuel on the floor and took some wooden spoons from a drawer. He banged them on the p
olished wood.

  “I dream I can make a decent living at home so I can parent Samuel full-time.”

  “And you’ll do it. You’ve been successful at everything you tackled.”

  “Except marriage.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop kicking yourself. Patrick was never a husband. He was a big boy looking for a mommy to take care of him.”

  Grace had been reluctant to bring up Patrick, but now her aunt had thrown that door wide-open. “I’d like to know how you were able to take one look at him and have him all figured out.”

  Her aunt gave a dismal shrug. “I worked with his father. Or I should say I watched how his father worked. He charmed others into carrying his load and took full credit for the work done. And then he got the accolades, promotions, and raises.”

  Grace wondered at the bitterness in her aunt’s expression and tone. “Did he do that to you?”

  Her aunt gave her a catlike smile. “He tried. Then moved on to others I admired. Charm always sends up a red flag for me. Patrick’s sudden interest in you screamed of selfish motives.”

  “I guess I should have known better. Why would the most popular guy in school pick a nerd as a girlfriend?”

  Aunt Elizabeth’s eyes went dark and hot. “The nerds of yesterday are the CEOs and entrepreneurs of tomorrow. You studied hard. You went out looking for work as soon as you were old enough for a permit. You had goals and dreams. Those are admirable qualities, Grace. You never used people.”

  It was the first time Aunt Elizabeth had defended her, and it put Grace in the odd position of defending her ex-husband. “It wasn’t Patrick’s fault I was so blind.”

  “You were young and naive in high school.” Aunt Elizabeth sat, back rigid, facing Grace. “You weren’t blind at UCLA. You saw. You knew it was no accident when he bumped into you on campus. And he just happened to need tutoring? When you mentioned you’d seen him, I could hear the doubt in your voice. You smelled a rat, but you wanted to hope. Who doesn’t? Especially when the guy looks like a Greek god.”

  Grace blushed. “He didn’t have to marry me.”

  “It was a good investment, wasn’t it? Dating can be very expensive.” Cynicism dripped. “Two can live as cheaply as one.” She huffed. “He had everything he wanted—a pretty girl to bring home the bacon and cook it, then do his laundry and homework, and be a sex partner when he was in the mood. I doubt he was even a good lover. Too selfish. You were always careful with money, so I imagine whatever savings you had went into his pocket. He liked to ski, as I remember. An expensive hobby. He managed to go to Big Bear half a dozen times, didn’t he?”

  The truth didn’t hurt Grace as much as it had when Patrick walked out on her. She had suffered more from guilt and hurt pride than a broken heart.

  “I know I disappointed you, Aunt Elizabeth. I’m sorry for being such a fool.”

  Her aunt’s expression softened. “I share the blame. If I’d brought you up to know your worth, you might not have sold yourself short. Sometimes women love too much and lose themselves completely.”

  Like my mother, Grace thought, thankful that her aunt didn’t say it.

  Aunt Elizabeth put on the teakettle and got out two cups and saucers. Samuel had lost interest in the spoons and crawled toward the door to the garage. “Good thing I don’t have a doggy door or he’d manage to escape. I wish I had one of those jumper things you could hang in the door.”

  “I have one in the trunk.” She’d been sure her aunt wouldn’t want it attached and possibly scratching up the lintel.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Go get it.”

  Grace came back inside and installed the gently used doorway jumper. Samuel squealed in delight when he saw it. She fitted him into it, and he bounced happily. Aunt Elizabeth laughed. “Doesn’t take much to please that boy.” She leaned down. “Careful you don’t bounce too high, Rapscal. You might just bump your head.”

  “Rapscal?” Grace couldn’t believe her aunt had given her son a nickname.

  “Douglas called him that.”

  “Douglas?” Grace didn’t remember anyone by that name.

  “Retired grocer. Widower.” Aunt Elizabeth waved her hand airily. “He bought the house next door.” She set two cups of tea on the kitchen table. “He’s fixing the place up. Ruby Henderson let it go after her husband died. She moved into an assisted-living facility and put the house on the market last year.”

  Suppressing a smile, Grace looked at her aunt over the rim of her teacup. “Is Douglas nice?”

  Aunt Elizabeth gave her an annoyed stare. “We were talking about the men in your life. I don’t have any in mine.” She looked pointedly at Samuel and back at Grace. “Did you ever track down his father?”

  Grace felt the heat surging into her cheeks. “No.” She and her aunt hadn’t trod this ground before, and Grace didn’t want it plowed. And she didn’t want to admit she had never tried.

  “I’m not reprimanding you, Grace, but have you ever thought about it?”

  “Yes, and decided it was a terrible idea.” She stared into her cup of tea, not wanting to see what her aunt might be thinking. “We barely talked.” She didn’t remember anything about him.

  “Why did you go to that club in the first place? It was so . . .” She shook her head. “Out of character.”

  Grace sighed. “I don’t know. I was depressed and lonely. Shanice loves to dance. Patrick and Virginia’s baby was due that week.”

  She’d been working every day, coming home to an empty apartment at night, taking online classes, keeping busy so she wouldn’t think about her empty life. She wondered if she’d ever fall in love with a man who would love her back. Shanice said, Come on, girlfriend, have a little fun for a change. Why not? Everyone else seemed to be doing it.

  The club had been packed, the sensuous beat of the music loud, people dancing like pagan worshipers. She’d been shocked at first, but wanted to fit in. So she pretended she could be as cool as anyone else. Before that night, she’d never had more than one glass of champagne, and that was in celebration of Patrick’s graduation, but Shanice ordered her a sloe gin fizz. It tasted good and went down easily. It also went to her head.

  One drink would have been more than enough to keep her high for the evening, but she paid for another. She danced alone, moving to the music, and then found herself in a man’s arms. She didn’t even look up at him. It was fun to dance with someone who knew how to lead and exciting to feel the rush of heat and fast pounding of her heart. She’d never felt anything like this with Patrick.

  When the man asked if she wanted to leave, she knew what he meant. Pushing down all sense of right and wrong, she said yes. They barely spoke on the drive to his condo. He asked why she’d come to the club. She said she wanted to have fun. He asked if she knew the rules. She shrugged and said sure, doesn’t everybody? One night, no strings. She hadn’t thought about the rest.

  Aunt Elizabeth touched Grace’s hand. “Please don’t cry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Grace wiped tears from her cheeks. They sat in companionable silence, Samuel bouncing happily a few feet away, thankfully oblivious to adult misadventures and catastrophes.

  “What about school, Grace? Do you want to go back?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it.”

  “You had your sights set on clinical psychology, didn’t you?”

  To figure herself out? “I’d need a master’s to do anything with it, and an internship somewhere. That would all take too long. The subject still fascinates me, but I don’t think I could stay detached from patients. I’m too much of an enabler.”

  “I’m glad you recognize that. It means you can change the pattern. So? What else interests you?”

  Art, music, Bible studies, anthropology, sociology, biology, but she’d learned where her skills lay. “I’d major in business administration, marketing, accounting.”

  “All very practical.” Aunt Elizabeth looked pleased. “Seems a perfect fit, too. Yo
u’re already in business. You could go back to UCLA. You finished that last semester on the dean’s list, didn’t you? You might even qualify for another scholarship.”

  “Possibly, but I don’t want Samuel to grow up in Los Angeles. I’ve been doing some research online. Merced has a UC campus. The town has a population of less than a hundred thousand, and the rents are certainly lower than what I was paying. I could afford a one-bedroom apartment.” First thing she’d do was find a good church. “There’s another nice thing about Merced.” She gave her aunt a hopeful smile.

  Aunt Elizabeth set her teacup back in the saucer, but didn’t raise her head. “What’s that?”

  “It’s only an hour away from Fresno.”

  “Oh.” Her aunt’s smile trembled. “Enough distance so you’ll have a full life of your own, and still close enough to be part of mine.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Grace stayed two more days before heading north.

  Saturday night, Grace made online reservations for an affordable Merced hotel and set up Monday appointments to see available apartments in her price range. She and Aunt Elizabeth attended the early service. Miranda had been by the house to visit twice, and declared herself in love with Samuel. She met them at the sanctuary door and took him from Grace’s arms. “He’ll be with me in the nursery. That way you can relax and enjoy the service.”

  “Now, wait just a minute.” Aunt Elizabeth looked annoyed to have Rapscal snatched away.

  Miranda just laughed. “I’ll give him back, Beth. It’s only an hour. Honestly, you could learn to share.” And off she went.

  Grace hadn’t been inside this church since Patrick left her. She’d been embarrassed to face these friends after the collapse of her marriage. What must they think of her?

  “You needn’t worry, Grace.” Aunt Elizabeth gave her an understanding glance. “The only difference between most of the people inside these walls and the outside world is we know we’re sinners. Chin up, my girl.”

  My girl. Her aunt had never called her that before. She had the feeling if anyone did slight her, ask a nosy question, or make a cruel remark, that person would come up against Elizabeth Walker’s slicing wit.