The Masterpiece

by Francine Rivers

  Talbot apologized and said he needed to get back to the classroom. Break would be over soon, the children lining up. He paused in the doorway. “You were very good at art, as I remember.”

  “I make a living at it. Under a different name. Roman Velasco.”

  “Didn’t you just do a big project in Los Angeles?” The secretary intruded again. “Something on the side of a church building. I saw it on Facebook.”

  Roman addressed Talbot. “If you’re interested, you can see it online. The work wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t done what was right.”

  “I’ll look you up.” He smiled. “Thanks for coming by, Bobby Ray. It’s nice to know one of my pupils is doing so well.” He went down the hall, his back a little straighter.

  “He needed to hear that.” The secretary nodded. “Most students remember the upper-class teachers in high school and forget all about the ones they had in the first few years, the unsung heroes who teach the basics.”

  Outside, Roman took out his phone and called Jasper Hawley. He told him he had time on his hands and would like to come up and see him, and Chet and Susan. “Unless you already have plans over the next few days.”

  “I’m in Portland right now, but I’ll be back day after tomorrow. Something happen, Bobby Ray?”

  “Just taking another look at my life from a new perspective.”

  “It’s about time.”

  Roman had other things he needed to do, and he might as well get one errand done before he headed back to the hotel for some much-needed sleep. He went to the coroner’s office on Bryant Street to find out everything he could about the circumstances of his mother’s death and where she had been buried. The clerk told him the medical examiner’s office retained dental records, tissue samples, a full body X-ray, and DNA of everyone brought into the morgue. His mother had died of an overdose of heroin. Her body had been cremated, her remains placed in storage. Roman filled out all the necessary paperwork and paid the fees to have her ashes released to him.

  “It’s been over twenty-five years. It might take a few days to find her.”

  Roman gave his contact information. He went to the wharf for dinner and then back to the hotel. He slept for eighteen hours without dreaming and awakened fully rested. Instead of wandering the Tenderloin, he went to Golden Gate Park and imagined how much Grace would love it. He drove to Cliff House for a late lunch. His phone vibrated. The medical examiner’s office. “It usually takes a lot longer than this, but we found your mother’s remains.”

  God seemed to be moving things along.

  Roman pulled into Masterson Ranch the next day. Gibbs and DiNozzo barked from the front porch. Chet came out of the barn, and Susan down the steps of the house. She got to him first and hugged him. “Nice you came back so soon.”

  Chet laughed. “We were worried you’d wait another decade before visiting again.”

  Roman said he’d like to stay a couple of days this time, if they had room. They told him he could stay as long as he wanted. They all sat in the kitchen and talked around the table for two hours before Roman asked them if he could spread his mother’s ashes in the hills above their house.

  Susan looked at Chet, tears in her eyes. Chet nodded. “We’d be honored, Bobby Ray.”

  They told him he could stay in his old room, but he’d have to share it. They only had four boys right now, but the one living in his room was another tough case just like him. Roman met Jaime Lopez when everyone gathered for dinner. He recognized himself at fifteen: angry, broken, no family, no future, no hope. All that had changed on this ranch with these people, and would for this boy, too, if he cooperated. Roman told Jaime as much after lights-out.

  The next morning, at dawn, Roman took his mother’s ashes up into the hills. He found a beautiful old valley oak with outstretched branches and a view of the ranch. In spring, these hills would be covered in green grass, golden poppies, and purple lupines. He opened the box and carefully spread her ashes.

  “I love you, Mama. I forgive you.” When he finished, the tears came from down deep. “Forgive me.” He’d hated her, blamed her for dying and leaving him on his own. It had taken him all these years to see and confess it to her. He had carried that anger around like a heavy shield to protect himself against ever loving anyone again.

  It took dying before he could learn to live.

  It was sunset before Roman returned to the house. He took his place at the dinner table and listened to the conversation going on around him. He volunteered to do the dishes and then joined everyone in the living room for the house meeting. When asked, he talked about his time at the ranch. “The program works, if you work it.” Chet and Susan told the boys about his success as an artist. They all knew about the piece he’d done on the church.

  Jasper came late. “Two trips up here in six months. That’s a good sign.”

  Chet and Susan turned in for the night, leaving José in charge. Roman sat on the porch with Jasper. Neither Chet nor Susan had mentioned Grace. Considering how well they’d all gotten along, he’d hoped they’d bring her up. And now, here was Jasper talking about every subject except the one Roman wanted most. Several times, he had to clench his jaw so he wouldn’t ask. That wasn’t part of the bargain he’d made with God. Three people, Lord. He needed one more. His heart squeezed tight with pain. I guess You’re saying no. He looked out at the stars and let her go again.

  “Time to head for home.” Jasper put his hands on his knees and stood. “Walk me to the car.” Roman fell into step beside him. Jasper opened the car door. “Don’t stay away too long, son.”

  “That works two ways. You have my new address, but you’ll be on the couch again. No fancy guest room.”

  “Not a problem.” Jasper studied him. “You’re not going to talk about Grace, are you?”

  Roman’s heart jumped. Number three. God was answering his prayer. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring her up.”

  “Are you going to see her?”

  “I’d be on her front doorstep if I knew where she lived.”

  “You haven’t talked to her at all?”

  “Figured that was the way she wanted it after she quit and moved out of the cottage. Have you seen her?”

  Jasper hesitated. “No, but I’ve talked with her several times. She’s got her own business now. VirtualGrace.biz. I’ve referred several students to her. One landed on the honor roll after she worked with him.”

  “Can you give me her address? I’d like to make amends in person.”

  “I can, but I won’t. Better if you contact her first. Give her the choice.”

  It wasn’t the answer Roman wanted, but he understood. “That makes sense.”

  As soon as Jasper drove out of the yard, Roman took out his phone and found Grace’s website. He tapped Contact, thumbed a short message, said a quick prayer, and touched Send.

  Sighing, Roman looked up. All he had to do now was wait . . . and hope she’d respond.

  GRACE COULDN’T SLEEP. After an hour of trying, she decided to get some work done and check her messages. She made coffee and stepped down to her small office. One of her students had sent a term paper for her to edit. She redlined problem areas and wrote comments in a sidebar before sending it back. That done, she responded to another student’s question.

  It was after two in the morning when she checked her website e-mail. Her heart leaped when she recognized Roman’s address. The message had been sent at 10:20 that evening. The subject line read Request. She positioned the cursor and then lifted her hand away as though about to burn herself. Was she opening herself up to more heartache? Think before you do anything, Grace. Think! She could delete his message without reading it and pretend she never received it. No, she couldn’t. She’d been praying for weeks. This might be God’s answer. She just hadn’t expected to feel such a jumble of emotions when it came.

  Oh, God; oh, Lord . . . She didn’t even know what to ask now.

  Pushing her chair back, Grace went up the steps into th
e kitchen. She poured herself another cup of coffee, then just as quickly poured it out. The last thing she needed was more caffeine. Her pulse was already racing. She went back to her desk. Sitting straight, hands fisted, she stared at the screen. Don’t be such a coward! Just read it, she told herself fiercely. She opened the message.

  Grace—I’d like to talk to you in person. If you’re willing, name the time and place. I’ll be there. Roman.

  Should she meet him? Why was she even asking that question? She knew this day would come. Hadn’t she been praying about it? She just didn’t feel ready. Will I ever be ready, Lord? She didn’t want to hope for anything.

  Multiple possibilities popped into her head. She could meet him in a coffee shop. That would be neutral and safe. She could leave Samuel with Dorothy or Angela. She cast aside one idea after another, sensing all the while what God wanted, if she had the courage for it.

  Oh, Lord, help.

  Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly as she tapped Respond.

  I live in Merced.

  Merced was a long way from Los Angeles. Roman would undoubtedly decide she wasn’t worth the drive. Heart still thumping, but feeling justified, she went back to work on another project. It’d be hours before he read the message, and she doubted he’d answer.

  A window in the lower right corner of her computer screen popped up with a ping, showing she had a new message from Roman. What was he doing up at three in the morning?

  I’m at Masterson Ranch. I can be in Merced in a few hours. Just need an address. Why are you up so early?

  She tapped Respond.

  Couldn’t sleep. Have work to do. What about you?

  I haven’t slept well for months. That’s one of the things I want to talk about with you.

  She didn’t know what to make of that and leaned back in her chair.

  Another message popped up.

  Sorry. That probably came out wrong. Don’t worry, Grace. I promise to keep my hands to myself.

  She hesitated so long, another message popped up.

  Please. Talk to me.

  Please was a word she’d never heard him say. She typed her address and set two o’clock for their meeting time. She sent it before she could change her mind, and then hoped the appointment wouldn’t work for him.

  His response came quickly.

  Thank you. See you at 2.

  Roman packed his duffel bag, set it by the front door, and went into the kitchen to tell Chet and Susan why he was leaving a day early. He could smell the coffee and bacon. Chet stood at the counter talking to his wife as she speared slices of sizzling meat and turned them over on the griddle. Chet noticed him first. Glancing over her shoulder, Susan smiled. “Good grief, you’re up early.”

  “Sorry to be cutting the visit short, but I’ll be back. I contacted Grace. We’re meeting this afternoon in Merced.”

  Chet’s brows rose. “Sounds serious.”

  “As serious as it can get. I’m hoping she’ll hear me out.”

  Susan opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She gave Chet a look and focused on the bacon. Chet poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Roman. “Jasper told us things didn’t go well between you two. That’s why we didn’t bring her up.”

  “I behaved like an ass. She had the good sense to quit and leave. I owe her more than an apology.”

  “She’s agreed to see you. That’s good news.”

  He’d have to wait to find out.

  The house was already hopping. All four boys were up, had showered, and came into the kitchen hungry and talking, except for Jaime, who jerked his chin at Roman in greeting. Susan told Roman to sit down. “You’re not traveling on an empty stomach. And if your meeting isn’t until this afternoon, you have plenty of time for breakfast.” She served him scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and put the platters on the table for the rest to pass around, family style. Roman seldom ate a full breakfast and had to restrain his impatience to get on the road.

  Once the boys were fed and on their way to morning chores, Roman felt free to leave. Chet and Susan walked him to his car. “You want a little advice about women?” Chet patted Roman’s shoulder. “Take it slow and easy.”

  Susan gave an indelicate snort. “If I’d waited for you to propose, I’d still be living with my parents in Texas.”

  “I proposed.”

  “You said you had something to ask me in a few years. I said, ‘Why wait?’”

  Chet smirked at her and winked at Roman. “Like I said. Take it slow and easy. The girl will let you know what she wants and when she wants it.”

  Susan punched him in the arm.

  Driving out of the yard, Roman looked in the rearview mirror. Chet had his arm around Susan as they both waved. Susan leaned into her husband.

  Lord, that’s the kind of relationship I want.

  Grace tried to work, but she couldn’t concentrate. Desperate to do something to curb her tension, she cleaned house while Samuel played contentedly with blocks on the living room rug. It stopped raining long enough to take Samuel out for a walk around the block. She wanted him tired and sound asleep when Roman came. Samuel toddled along happily for a while, but he soon started fussing and wanted back in the stroller. She went on ahead, encouraging him to chase her. He enjoyed that for half a block and then sat in the middle of the sidewalk in protest. When they returned home, she fed him lunch and put him on the carpet to play. He wanted to be held. Giving in, Grace rocked him. She almost fell asleep in the chair. Settling him in his race car bed, she kissed him and carefully closed the door.

  She had time to brush her teeth and take a quick shower, but no time for makeup. A touch of lipstick would have to do. She brushed her hair hurriedly and raked her fingers through it. Staring at herself in the mirror, depressed, she looked pale, shadows under her eyes and wild-eyed on top of it. Calm down, Grace. Breathe! She drew in her breath, letting it out slowly. It helped relax her. She prayed and felt prepared. Until the doorbell rang.

  Rubbing damp palms against her jeans, Grace took another deep breath and released it before opening the door. Roman stood on the other side of the screen door, and her pulse rocketed. So much for moving on. Oh, Lord, help me.

  Roman felt all the old fears rise when he walked up the path to Grace’s front door. Love had always been the enemy, the emotion to avoid. In the past months, Brian had helped him see more clearly what Jasper had tried to get across for years. Just because one person let you down didn’t mean everyone would. And, in truth, Roman had let Grace down because he’d lacked the courage to step up and be the man God intended him to be.

  That was then; this is now, he reminded himself. I behaved like a child. God, make me the man You want me to be.

  He stood at the door, heart in his throat, and pressed the doorbell. Lord of mercy, help me say what needs to be said. And if it’s Your will . . .

  The door opened. Grace appeared, and all thought left him. He could hardly breathe. If he’d ever had any doubt about being in love with this woman, it was gone now. She looked younger, more vulnerable, her dark hair longer, down around her shoulders. She was wearing the pink sweater, white blouse, and jeans he remembered. She’d lost weight, but then, so had he. He couldn’t tell what she was feeling, but he sensed wariness. Considering what had happened between them the last time they were together, Roman understood her distrust. She inhaled sharply, and his heart pounded harder. It helped to know she was nervous, too, afraid how this time together might go. Seeing that made him calmer. Roman knew how and where he wanted this meeting to end. Or rather begin.

  Unlatching the screen door, Grace pushed it open a few inches. “Come in.” She stepped back. To give him room or to keep her distance? She didn’t meet his gaze, but offered her living room with a tense gesture. The sofa was pale turquoise with yellow pillows. She’d hung up the hand-lettered artwork, which he now recognized as a quote from Psalms, and the pictures of Jesus.

  Where two or three gather together as my foll
owers, I am there.

  “Please. Sit.” Grace’s voice trembled slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  Roman felt as much at home in this house as the cottage. It wasn’t the furnishings or decorations. It was Grace. Instead of sitting, Roman followed her and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her. The faint flush in her cheeks had disappeared. She was pale now. Was she afraid of him? He hoped not. She almost dropped the canister and gave him an embarrassed glance. He didn’t have to ask if he was making her nervous, and he didn’t want her to be. How much of what he felt showed in his face? Too much, apparently. He had to stop drinking in the sight of her.

  Take it slow and easy, Chet had said. But not too slow, according to Susan.

  Roman tossed all his experience with women. None of it applied. If he didn’t say something soon, he’d have another heart attack. He smiled at her, hoping to get them both over a rough start. “I’ve missed your coffee.” He could stand all day and watch her. She was more beautiful to him than anything he’d ever seen. But she might relax if he looked at something else.

  The view from the kitchen window showed a large lawn and vegetable garden. “Nice place for Samuel to play.” Grace said yes. She took an unsteady breath as she spooned coffee. Then she started to talk. She told him about Dorothy and George Gerling, her landlords, and Juan and Angela Martinez and their three children who lived right next door. Juan planted the vegetable garden, and Angela gave her parenting tips, and little Matías was Samuel’s first good buddy. She was rambling, a sign she was still nervous. He noticed she’d filled the coffee filter to the brim. She uttered a soft gasp and spooned coffee grounds back into the canister.

  Roman wanted to put his arms around her and say, It’s okay, Grace. I’m just as scared as you are. He tried to relax, but his pulse galloped, his breath high and tight. He breathed in and out slowly before he spoke. “Where’s Samuel?”

  “He’s down for a nap.” Grace barely glanced at him, her attention caught by something on the kitchen table. Roman looked down at a blue-trimmed plate, and understood. There were the things she’d gathered on their road trip: five smooth stones, a pinecone, and a pair of acorns linked together by a single twig.