Picking up the acorns carefully, Roman held them in the palm of his hand. “You didn’t throw them away.”
Blushing, Grace turned her back. “Why don’t we sit in the living room?” She filled two mugs with coffee and left him standing alone in the kitchen. Roman replaced the acorns on the plate. Strange how something so small and ordinary could fill him with so much hope.
Grace occupied the rocking chair, leaving him the whole sofa. She held her mug cupped tightly in both hands, a talisman. His was on the coffee table, a sizable barrier between them. He sat, but didn’t touch the mug. He hadn’t come for coffee.
“I came to apologize, Grace.” Something he’d never done before. “I didn’t treat you with the respect you deserved, and I’m sorry for that.” Pressing his palms together between his knees, he leaned forward, sending up a shotgun prayer. God, help me. “I was afraid to tell you how I felt about you.” She looked away, and he held off saying the rest, waiting for her to face him again before he went on. “I was in love with you then, and I’m in love with you now.” He’d never said those words to anyone and he saw the walls going up.
“I don’t want that kind of love, Roman.”
“I’m not finished.”
Lips parting, Grace’s eyes filled. She almost spilled her coffee. “I’m not sure I can listen.”
“Please?”
Setting the mug on a small lampstand table, Grace put her hands on her thighs before she looked at him in anguish. “Why did you come, Roman?”
“I laid out my fleece, and God said yes.” Why should she believe him? Just say the rest, Roman. “I came to ask you to marry me.”
“What?” She drew back, shocked.
“You heard me.” He knew what he was asking. Brian had given him a copy of the standard wedding vows once. Roman had some sense of the depth of commitment it would take for a relationship to last for the long haul, through all the challenges life would throw at them, not to mention the issues and personality traits they would each bring along. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for either of them. God knew what childhood issues and adult issues they had. Even with all that, they had God’s promises to stand on. Nothing is impossible for God. “Just to be clear, Grace, I want to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both live.”
Bowing her head, she clenched her hands in her lap. She shook her head. “I know what you think about women, Roman. The ones you meet in clubs. You don’t know as much about me as you think you do.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I know you went to After Dark and met a guy, and Samuel is the result.”
Sucking in a breath, Grace stared at him, her cheeks blooming red and then going white. “Shanice told you?”
“Not as a betrayal. It all came out when I went with her to pick up a friend at After Dark.”
“Oh.” Grace covered her face.
Roman’s heart ached for the fear and uncertainty she’d suffered because of one night of forgetting herself. She had fought to keep her son, and now carried the responsibility alone. How many other women would have taken a different path? Thank God, Grace followed Him and not the crowd. “What Shanice didn’t know is I could be the guy she was talking about.”
Grace lowered her hands, frowning. “Why would you say something like that?”
“It’s not impossible. I used to hang out at After Dark regularly. I had a beach condo in Malibu around that time. I remember a girl with long, blonde hair who left in the middle of the night while I was in the bathroom. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but that had never happened before.” The few women he’d brought to his condo had been sent home in a cab—usually before they were ready to leave.
Another sin I confess, Lord. I treated women the way men treated my mother. “I’m not the man I used to be, Grace, but I’m still a long way from the one I want to be.”
“Women are held to a higher standard than men.” Her mouth tipped in a sad, knowing half smile. “Especially by men.”
Was she remembering the self-righteous remarks he’d made in Bodie? “You’re right, and it’s wrong. I’ve lived as a hypocrite for a long time.” He’d condemned a long-dead woman for being in the life his mother had lived, remembering how he’d suffered right along with her. He’d never seen Grace angry until that day. She hadn’t realized she was showing compassion for his mother. What did he know about what happened between his mother and father, what the circumstances were? What right did he have to judge anyone?
Grace’s expression was enigmatic. “Is that why you came? Because you think you could be Samuel’s father?”
“The girl I met told me she wanted to feel something.” Roman saw the flicker in her eyes. “I wanted the same thing. And I’m not talking about sex, Grace. I’m talking about connecting with someone emotionally.” He’d never understood the pent-up longing until Grace showed up and their relationship progressed. “I’m not explaining very well.” He tried to gather his thoughts. “It only took a day to understand you were never coming back to the cottage, and I’d blown everything with you. It took me months to work through all the reasons you had to leave and what I needed to do to get right with God.” Again, that flicker. He’d been saved when she left, but he hadn’t been a Christ follower. And that made a fundamental difference in who he had been and who he was now.
They sat facing each other, the coffee table between them. Roman didn’t look away. “You admitted you loved me that night. You left because you wanted a man willing to commit, not a boy who wanted everything on his terms.”
“If we’re being honest, I left because I knew if I stayed, I wouldn’t be strong enough to say no a second time.”
“You did the right thing in leaving, Grace. I wouldn’t have left you alone.” He thanked God she hadn’t waited. Where would they be right now if she’d weakened? They’d be living together. She’d never have felt secure and cherished, and he’d still be the same arrogant, self-centered jerk he’d been then. If Grace hadn’t fled, he might never have felt the need to examine his life and realize he had to let God change him from the inside out.
Grace looked troubled. “How could Samuel be your son, Roman? You said you’ve always taken precautions to avoid fathering a child.”
How many other callow things had he said in his lifetime? “I had a standard.” He gave a bleak laugh. “Not much of one, I’ll admit. I didn’t want to be like my father: get a girl pregnant and walk away.” Hardly an excuse, but the truth. “My mother never told me who he was, left that line blank on my birth certificate. Maybe she didn’t even know, and I have no way of finding out.”
Throat constricting, Roman struggled with a tide of emotions. “Crazy as it sounds, I missed my father. I know that might not make sense to you, but I needed him.” Over the last few days, his eyes had been opened. “Jasper tried to fill the gap, but I wouldn’t let him. Chet tried, too. I had walls up. When I accepted Christ, I found my Father. But there’s still that flip side. I still wonder.” He was silent a moment, praying. Jesus, help her understand what I can’t explain to myself, let alone another human being.
Time to put all his hopes on the table. “I love you, Grace. I want to marry you. I don’t know Samuel yet, but he’s your son, and that’s enough reason for me to love him.” Grace’s brown eyes softened. Was that love or compassion? “I didn’t tell you all that so you’d feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t.”
“A boy needs a father.”
Her eyes filled. “So does a girl.”
“Maybe that’s why God sent the angel to you.” His heart beat faster at the warmth in her expression. “If you say yes, we’ll go through premarriage counseling.” Shanice had told him about Patrick. “We’ll both do our own homework. If we keep Jesus front and center, we’ll make it through whatever this life throws at us.” His palms felt moist. He hadn’t thought to ask if she had met someone else. Another Brian Henley type who would be perfect for her instead of someone like him. “You told me once that you loved me. Do y
ou still love me, Grace?”
“I’ve been trying very hard to get over you.”
“Any luck with that?”
“None.” Her lips tipped up.
Roman let out a breath. “Thank You, Jesus.”
Grace laughed softly. “I never thought I’d hear you pray.”
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “That makes two of us.” He felt steadier inside, seeing a future and a hope opening in front of them. Her defenses were coming down, and his body was fast remembering the kiss they’d shared in Topanga Canyon. The rush of heat was coming on, and he wanted Grace in his arms right now. He put his hands on his knees, intending to make that happen, when he felt a check in his spirit telling him to wait. Better not to test his control . . . or hers.
Lord, I don’t deserve anything, but here You are again, showing me mercy and unfailing love.
“Mama?”
Roman turned and saw Samuel standing in the doorway, cheeks flushed from sleep, dark hair damp and matted. The last time Roman saw Samuel, he’d been a baby learning to crawl. Now a little boy stood on his own two feet, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Love swelled inside Roman until his eyes burned. Whether he was Bobby Ray Dean’s son or not, he could be. And he would be.
Clearing his throat, Roman spoke gently. “Hey, there, little man. Do you remember me?” Samuel looked at him in bewilderment. Why would this child remember? Roman had barely spent time with him. That was going to change.
Grace rose and went to Samuel. Lifting him, she perched her son comfortably on her hip and sat on the couch beside Roman. “Samuel, this man wants to be your daddy.”
Samuel looked up at Roman, eyelids drooping. Leaning against his mother, he went back to sleep.
Roman grinned at her. “He didn’t say no.” Was Grace going to say yes? “I guess he doesn’t have a problem with it.”
She laughed softly, eyes shining as she ran her hand over Samuel’s hair in a loving caress. She looked at him. “Neither do I.” Reaching up, she drew Roman’s head down and kissed him.
When her lips parted, Roman deepened the kiss. The old Roman would have put the child to bed and kissed Grace until neither cared whether they were married or not. The new man wanted God’s blessing and Grace’s trust. He wanted her to know he’d cherish her, not use her. And right now, with her hand on his chest, he wanted her too much. Capturing her hand, he straightened, then brushed her hair back over one shoulder with a trembling hand. Her flushed cheeks and darkening eyes drew him in, and he couldn’t help but kiss the racing pulse beneath her ear.
She drew in a soft breath. “I should put Samuel back to bed.”
Tempted to agree, Roman knew it wouldn’t take much more to cross the line.
“Safer for both of us if you keep him right where he is.” He cupped her cheek.
“Okay.” She let out a soft sigh.
“Was that relief or disappointment?” Roman couldn’t resist one more kiss, just to find out. And that kiss led to another until they were both breathless and trembling.
“I’d better move.” Grace took the rocking chair on the other side of the coffee table. Shifting Samuel in her arms, she settled more comfortably. “Are you heading back to Los Angeles this afternoon?”
“I’m staying in the same hotel you and I stayed in on our road trip.” He’d checked in before coming to see Grace. “It’ll serve as home base until I find a house.”
“A house? You want to move to Merced?”
Laughing, Roman shook his head. “I don’t know yet, but I didn’t just stop by on my way back to LA to say, ‘Hey, by the way, I’d like to marry you.’ I’m sticking around until you do.”
Samuel awakened again, groggy and grumpy this time. Grace stood. “He needs another hour, at least.”
Roman followed and stood in the doorway as she settled him. He grinned as he backed out so she could close the door. “A race car bed?”
“Gift from Dorothy and George. Aunt Elizabeth sleeps in it when she comes to visit.”
“Does that happen often?” She hadn’t moved, and the hall felt too small for the two of them. He glanced into the other bedroom with an inviting queen-size bed. He closed the door. Out of sight, out of mind. He hoped.
“She’s coming tomorrow to spend the weekend.”
“She’ll want my head on a platter.”
Grace looked back over her shoulder with a grin as she returned to the living room. “Actually, she’s been rooting for you.” She lifted his mug. “Your coffee’s cold.” She picked up hers as well. “We can sit in the kitchen and talk.” Pouring two mugs of fresh coffee, she set them on the table.
They sat facing each other. Roman imagined sitting together like this for decades to come. “Mmmm. I really have missed your coffee.”
“It’s a poor reason for wanting to marry a girl.”
“Just one of many good ones.” He looked at her for a moment, thankful she didn’t seem nervous about his perusal now. “I’ve missed you.” More than he could express, and far more than he’d thought possible. The old, niggling fear rose that even the best things in life don’t last forever. “Until death parts us” meant one of them would go before the other. He and Brian had talked about that. Each day was a blessing from God, to be lived to the fullest, without fear.
“Don’t buy a house yet, Roman.”
“I’ll rent until we decide what we want to do. Unless you want to move back to Southern California. How do you like it here?”
“I like it very much, but you’re a big-city boy.”
“Am I?” He’d grown up in the Tenderloin, bounced from youth hostel to hostel in Europe, had a Malibu beach condo and a fortress in Topanga Canyon. Now, he lived in a two-bedroom apartment in a rough neighborhood in LA, not a place he wanted to settle his wife and child. But then, what did he know? Where they would live was just one of the many things they’d have to work out together.
Roman stretched out his hand on the table, palm up. Grace let out a soft breath of surrender and slipped her hand into his. “I guess it doesn’t matter where we live, as long as we’re together.”
It would be easy to accept her surrender, let her give in, but Roman wanted Grace secure and content, as well as happy.
“It matters, Grace.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “We’ll wait for God to tell us where He wants us.”
TALIA’S LAGUNA ART GALLERY BUZZED with activity, patrons, journalists, and collectors viewing Roman’s work, as classical music played softly in the background. Waiters moved among the guests, offering champagne, sparkling cider, and hors d’oeuvres. Grace stood beside Roman as he answered questions about his art, marveling at the ease with which he moved conversation from his work to the work God had done in his life.
Talia had been on her A game, sending out engraved invitations to wealthy art patrons and collectors for the grand opening of Roman’s first show in over three years. Of course, Talia had widened her net through social media for the continuing show over the next two days. Roman’s paintings would all be sold by then, but would remain on the walls over the weekend so people could enjoy what would soon be hidden away in someone’s mansion. Advance orders for reproductions and signed prints would be available.
This was the second art show Grace had attended. What a difference from the first, when Roman had been edgy, angry, eager to take flight. His work had changed drastically, as well. He no longer attacked a line of canvases. He spent weeks making sketches and taking long walks with Samuel until the work came together in his mind. He painted one canvas at a time, each different in style—impressionist, fauvist, and one large, realist work Talia declared a masterpiece titled World Changers. Roman had even included several pieces of graffiti.
Several people stood in deep conversation with Talia near World Changers, among them a movie star and a businessman who’d made the cover of Forbes magazine. Competing buyers, no doubt. Art could be a good investment, something to tuck away and sell later if fame dimmed or stocks went
down. Roman’s painting was nothing short of glorious, and though Grace understood the realities of making a living, she still prayed World Changers would end up in a public place where many would see how the disciples might look in current times—an interracial group including an accountant, a college student, a gangbanger, a middle-aged fisherman; men who might be enemies if not for their shared faith in Jesus Christ.
The last three years had brought major adjustments in Grace and Roman’s lives. After three intensive months of premarriage counseling, they’d felt equipped to wed. Brian officiated, Shanice at Grace’s side, Jasper at Roman’s. Two months later, Grace confirmed her pregnancy. Roman attended Lamaze classes and coached her in the delivery room seven months later. He was the first to hold their daughter, Hannah. Grace had never seen him weep tears of joy.
Others wanted to get close enough to speak with Roman, so she withdrew. Roman gave her a questioning look, and she smiled to reassure him. Rather than avoid the guests as he once had, Roman stood among them, answering questions. He looked comfortable in his skin, handsome, though still averse to formality in black jeans, leather boots and belt, an open-neck white shirt, and a black leather jacket. He told Grace the only occasion important enough for a suit was a wedding: theirs first, and then Brian and Shanice’s, where she had been matron of honor and Roman, the best man.
Friends had come in support of Roman’s opening: Brian and Shanice with their year-old son, Caleb, riding on his mommy’s hip; Aunt Elizabeth looking elegant in a black dress and heels; Jasper and the Mastersons; Ashley and her new husband, a fellow teacher with two teens. Even Dorothy and George Gerling had made the trip down. Grace had accepted Angela and Juan’s offer to keep Samuel and Hannah for three days. Roman had wanted to bring Samuel along, until Grace explained an art show would not hold the interest of an energetic four-year-old, and Hannah would miss her big brother.
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