GRACE CALLED THE GARCIAS. Thankfully, Ruben answered. He didn’t seem surprised to hear from her in the middle of the week, nor that she needed to speak with him and Selah as soon as possible. “You’ve made your decision.” He sounded relieved. “Come this evening after seven. It’s important the whole family be here.”
Shanice asked if Grace wanted her to come and lend support, but Shanice wouldn’t hold back if Selah resisted. The last thing Grace wanted was to hurt the family who’d helped her through the most difficult time in her life. But she wasn’t going to make her child the sacrifice.
Selah opened the door and embraced her. “I know how difficult this has been for you, chiquita. I knew you’d eventually do the right thing.” She released Grace and stepped back, her smile beaming. “Ruben and the children are in the living room.”
No one spoke when Grace came in. She felt outnumbered with Ruben, Javier, and Alicia all seated in the living room. The atmosphere felt heavy with tension. Only Selah looked happy, excited. “We’ve been looking forward to this for months.” Selah waved her toward the couch. “Please, sit.”
It might have been wise to bring Shanice as support. Insides quivering with nerves, Grace perched on the edge of a chair. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.
Selah clasped her hands in her lap, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “We can have the papers—”
“Selah.” Ruben spoke firmly. “Permítele hablar.”
Grace didn’t know an easy way to tell Selah. “I’m keeping Samuel. I’m taking him with me tonight.” Selah looked confused and then shocked. Grace went on quickly before she could speak. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done—”
“You can’t take him!” Selah’s eyes darkened in anger, even as the color drained from her cheeks. “This is his home. He belongs here with me!”
“Grace is Samuel’s mother, Selah.” Ruben put his hand firmly over his wife’s. “You and I have talked about this many times.”
Selah yanked her hand free. “I’m as much his mother as she is.” She glared at Grace and looked ready to fight.
Alicia surged to her feet, startling everyone. “You’re more his mother than you are mine!” She burst into angry tears, stepped around the coffee table, and fled down the hall. Stunned, Grace winced at the slammed door.
Ruben, furious, jerked his head at Javier. “Get your sister. This is a family matter.” When they both came back, Ruben stood. “Siéntate!” A rapid-fire conversation in Spanish took place before Alicia obeyed.
Ruben took his seat, calmer now. “Tell your mother how you feel, Lici.” He spoke gently, but with insistence.
“She won’t listen. She never listens.” The tears came again, but all defiance was gone.
“What’s wrong with you?” Selah demanded, her anger shifting from Grace to her daughter.
“You care more about Sammy than you do about me or Javier.”
Selah waved a hand, dismissing the accusation. “That’s not true! I do your laundry. I fix dinner every night. I drop you off at soccer practice and pick you up. You’ve been spoiled.”
Alicia’s young face twisted with hurt. “When was the last time you came to one of my soccer games, Mamá? You used to come.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Papá makes time. He comes when he doesn’t have to work late. But you? You never have time anymore. Sammy is always your excuse. It’s too hot. He needs to play, and he can’t do that in a stroller. He needs a diaper change.” Her voice rose. “It’s always about what the baby needs.”
Angry and defensive, Selah looked between her children. “I’m always here for you! You’re both almost grown up already. You don’t need me anymore.”
“You used to sit and talk with me after school every day, Mamá.” Alicia leaned forward, hands fisted in her lap. “All you care about is Samuel, and he isn’t even yours!”
Selah looked as though she’d been slapped.
Ruben turned to his son. “What about you, Javier? Do you have something to tell your mother?” When Javier shrugged, Ruben told him to speak up.
“I’m graduating in June and—”
“Yes,” Selah interrupted, impatient. “And you’ll go off to college and have a life of your own.”
“I’m not going to college next year, Mamá. I’m enlisting in the Army.”
Selah stared at him, then shook her head. “No, you’re not. That’s not even funny. Tell him, Ruben!”
“He’s eighteen. He can speak for himself.” Ruben leaned back in his chair, his hands gripping the arms, the only sign of his tension.
Javier leaned forward. “The Army will pay my way through university, Mamá.”
“You’ll go to the junior college and work.” She turned away from Javier and faced Grace again. “We have other things to talk about tonight.”
“More important things than your own children!” Alicia started to rise again, but one look from Ruben had her sitting. She turned her face away.
Javier shrugged. “Maybe she’ll believe me when I get on the bus to boot camp.”
Alicia erupted again. Selah grew defensive.
Grace didn’t want to be in the middle of their family crisis. Maybe caring for Samuel had been Selah’s way of fighting off the inevitable loss of her own children. They all began talking in Spanish at once. Grace got up quietly and walked down the hall. Samuel awakened when she lifted him. “Mama . . .”
Her heart melted. Oh, Lord, thank You. He knows I’m his mother. He rested his head on her shoulder and fell back to sleep. She had reached the front door when Selah came into the foyer.
“You can’t take him.”
“Mi amor! Stop this!” Ruben grasped her arm. “Samuel is her son. We agreed to help—”
She wrenched her arm from Ruben’s grip and took a step toward Grace, arms outstretched. Grace spread her hand on Samuel’s back and backed away. Ruben caught Selah by the shoulders. “Go,” he ordered Grace as Selah became hysterical.
A wave of grief overwhelmed Grace. Maybe if she’d tried harder, or worked things out differently, this family wouldn’t be suffering now. “I’m sorry, Ruben. I’m so sorry.” She fled, Selah crying out behind her. Opening the car door, Grace fumbled with the straps to secure Samuel in his seat.
“Grace, espera.” Ruben came down the walk. Selah stood on the threshold, arms wrapped around herself, sobbing.
Closing the car door, Grace stood in front of it. “You’re not keeping him, Ruben. I’m sorry Selah is so upset.” She started to cry. “Samuel is my son, and I’m not giving him up. I told you both at the hospital, right after he was born.”
He held up his hands. “It’s all right, chiquita. I knew this day would come. I warned her. She knows a child belongs with his mother.”
Looking past him to Selah, Grace shook her head.
“My wife has been living a dream. She’s awake now.” Sorrow etched his kind face. “You have a good job and a beautiful place to raise your son.” When he held out his arms, Grace went into them.
Grace thought better of telling him she had no job or home and no idea what she was going to do in the days ahead.
Grace had left all of Samuel’s things at the cottage, and taken nothing from the Garcias. She stopped at a Walmart and picked up what she needed for a couple of nights before going back to Shanice’s. While Samuel slept, Grace composed a letter of resignation and apology to Roman. She told him she fully understood as per their rental agreement she would have to forfeit the security deposit and last month’s rent she’d paid.
When Shanice got up the next morning, Grace held up the envelope. “My letter of resignation and the key to his house. I’ll drop it off when I go back and get Samuel’s things and a few more of my own.”
“Nothing doing, girlfriend.” Shanice plucked the envelope from her hand. “You’re too vulnerable. I’ll take care of it.”
Grace wanted to argue, but Shanice was right.
“Call the church, honey. See if any of the men who help people move are available this weekend.”
Samuel secure in his car seat, Grace drove to a public storage facility and rented a unit large enough to store her furniture until she had a place to live. The church administrator called back in the afternoon. Four men had volunteered for work Saturday morning.
Shanice returned with everything Grace needed: playpen, baby clothes, baby food, diapers, and toys. The crib would have to be taken apart and packed, but Grace loved having her son snuggled against her at night.
“I gave Velasco the letter and told him everything would be cleared out this weekend.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He took the letter, heard me out, and closed the door.”
Hot tears filled Grace’s eyes. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
Shanice sighed. “You don’t have to go, Grace. We can take care of everything.”
“I’ll go early and do the packing.”
“I can go with you.”
“I’ll be all right.” She gave Shanice a weak smile. “I’m not the naive girl I was.”
Shanice looked dubious, but didn’t argue. “I’d offer to keep Samuel, but I think you’re safer if he’s with you.”
Grace understood all too well.
Early Saturday morning, she headed to Topanga Canyon with boxes and tape. She alternated between fear and hope she’d see Roman. When she unlocked the cottage and walked in, she found a large manila envelope that had been slid under the door. She stepped around it and put Samuel on the living room rug with toys from her tote bag. Inside the envelope was the rental agreement, Canceled written in dark, bold letters across the front page, a check reimbursing her security deposit and last month’s rent paper-clipped to it. In a white legal envelope, she found another check for two months’ salary, and a formal letter of recommendation. Efficient . . . personable . . . trustworthy . . . quick learner . . . hard worker . . .
Heartsick, Grace sat at the table, the papers in her lap. Clearly, Roman agreed all ties needed to be severed. She just hadn’t expected to feel so shattered. Covering her face, she wept.
Oh, God, why did You bring me here? Why did I ever meet Roman Velasco if all he’d do is turn my life upside down and inside out? Help me understand!
Samuel grabbed hold of her jeans and cried. Wiping tears away, Grace lifted him and held him close. This was no time for a pity party. She needed to remember the good things that had come out of her relationship with Roman. They’d had a wonderful four days together on the road. He hadn’t died in Santa Clarita. He’d met Jesus. She couldn’t allow herself to sink into an abyss of regrets again and play the if only and what-if games. She thought of Selah and her dreams. Now, she had to put down her own.
Setting Samuel on the rug, Grace put everything back in the manila envelope, folded it carefully, and tucked it into the tote. Time to pack and move on.
After reading Grace’s carefully worded letter of resignation, Roman knew whatever chance he had with her was over. He watched her arrive early Saturday morning. His heart squeezed tight when she appeared on the path, Samuel riding on her hip, and several flattened boxes tucked under her arm. She didn’t look up. When she disappeared inside the cottage, Roman moved away from the windows. He tried to concentrate on the painting. Giving up, he went back to the windows. Two men carried a sofa out of the house. Two more toted a mattress. Grace didn’t have much, so the work was done and everyone was gone before noon.
Roman stood at the easel for the rest of the day. The landscape Grace had started with a single line was coming together. Every time he looked at it, he saw Grace. That had been the point, hadn’t it? He’d intended to show her, see if she noticed what he was hiding in the scene.
The phone rang. Roman answered without looking at the ID, hoping against all odds it was Grace. Maybe they could talk, work things out. Unfortunately, it was Hector. His compadre had learned enough English to be understood, and wanted Roman to see the mural he’d just finished at a Mexican restaurant on Olvera Street. Roman needed to get out of the house and said sure, he had time, plenty of time. He headed downtown.
As soon as Roman walked in the door, Hector called out and wove his way through the tables packed with patrons, a wide grin on his brown face. “Amigo!” He waved his arm toward the wall. “What do you think?”
Roman liked the vibrant colors, the mountains in the background, Mexican workers toiling in fields, a beautiful Latina carrying a basket of white lilies, children in colorful costumes dancing in a circle. He nodded. “Buen trabajo, amigo.”
Hector laughed. “You speak Spanish!”
Roman forced a smile. “You just heard the extent of my vocabulary.” Other than gracias and a string of curses best forgotten. A plump redhead made her way toward them. Roman recognized her from the picture Hector had shared in San Diego. “Your girlfriend?”
“Mi esposa. Two weeks ago. Vegas. No questions asked.” Hector put a possessive arm around her as she looked at him with adoring eyes. “Tracy, meet Roman Velasco, el patrón.”
“A pleasure.” Roman shook her hand.
“Hector has talked a lot about you.”
Roman winced. “I’m not an easy boss.”
Hector wasn’t finished dispensing news. “We’re expecting a bebé.” He looked proud and happy. Feeling an odd pang of envy, Roman congratulated them.
“Come.” Hector waved him over to a vacant table. “Dinner is on me.”
The guacamole and chips were fresh and delicious, the salsa hot enough to make Roman’s eyes water. For a small girl, Tracy had a big appetite. Hector chuckled and said she was eating enough for twins. Roman ordered a combination plate of chiles rellenos, enchiladas, refried beans, and rice. Hector talked about the importance of family and friends. Other mural projects had come his way. He’d be able to support a family now, but assured Roman he never forgot un amigo. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”
Roman told him the mural in San Diego had been his last. “I’m working on canvas now.” The landscape would keep him occupied for a while. What then? And when he finished it, would he sell it? Doubtful.
The waitress cleared plates and brought back coffee and flan.
“Bring Grace next time you come down. She’ll want to see the wall.”
“Grace quit.”
Hector’s brows shot up. “You let her?”
“Wasn’t my call.”
“But you still see her. Yes? She lives right next door.”
“She moved out. This morning, as a matter of fact.”
Hector looked angry. “Eres estúpido o no más obstinado?”
Tracy blushed. “Hector said—”
Roman held up his hand. “I think I got it.” Was he stupid or just obstinate? Why not be honest? “Let’s just say I took a shot, and she dodged the bullet.”
“You just give up?”
Roman turned the mug of coffee and didn’t answer.
Hector shook his head. “She was good for you, jefe.”
“Yeah.” Roman lifted his mug. “But I wasn’t good for her.” He looked at the gold band on Hector’s finger. “Things don’t always work out the way you hope.”
Dinner over, Roman didn’t feel up to Topanga Canyon and drove to Laguna Beach. Talia’s gallery was closed. Just as well. She’d want to know what he was painting. If he told her, she’d want to sell it, sight unseen. He headed north. He stopped in Malibu and walked the beach. He sat, forearms resting on his knees. The moon shimmered white light on the sea. He thought of the light that had surrounded him, the firm grip that had pulled him up from the abyss.
Jesus, why did You bother saving me?
Angry, Roman pulled out his phone.
Jasper’s voice was groggy from sleep. “Everything okay?”
“I took your advice and suggested Grace and I move to the next level.”
“Oh.” Silence. “And?”
“She quit. She moved out of the cottage.”
Blankets rustled and Jasper sighed deeply. “Start at the beginning.”
“I made a nice dinner, set everything up on the patio. She likes the view.” Roman’s eyes felt gritty. He stopped talking and tried to breathe.
“Did you make a pass?”
“I kissed her. She said she loved me. I asked her to move in—”
“Move in?”
“She didn’t like the idea of being friends with benefits.”
Jasper groaned. “Bobby Ray, when I said ‘settle down,’ I didn’t mean ask her to shack up with you. I meant marry her.”
“Who gets married these days without trying each other on?” He thought of Hector and Tracy, already pregnant.
“Try each other on? You mean like a change of clothes.” Jasper sounded angry now. “You want a relationship that lasts? You commit. You want to play house and screw around? Go back to the club and find another one-night stand.”
Roman could feel Jasper’s disappointment, but it wasn’t close to his own. How many times had he risked his life climbing to high places to blast a wall, but he didn’t have the guts to risk his heart. He thought he could protect himself from the pain, but it was here, full-on, deep-set, like claws trying to pull him under.
“Bobby Ray.” Jasper’s tone had softened. “Call her. Apologize. Ask if you can start over.”
“It’s too late.”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“She’s not picking up.”
“Be strong and courageous. For once in your life, come out of the shadows.”
They talked for over an hour. Roman stayed on the beach all night and watched the sunrise. “Jesus.” The light and colors brought back the relief and wonder of being pulled up out of hell and feeling life come into him again. “Jesus.” Roman wanted to pray, but didn’t know how. “Jesus.” He looked at the sunrise and remembered the power that lifted him from death to life. “Jesus, help me.”
When Roman returned to Topanga Canyon, he went into the cottage. Grace had left the key on the kitchen counter. No note. Wrenching pain filled him. Alone, in silence, he admitted what he’d known for a long time. He loved her. Until this moment, he hadn’t been able to admit it, let alone say it to her. If he said it now, she wouldn’t believe him.
He’d spent three years looking for his mother before finding out she’d died the night she left him alone in the apartment. Only then had he given up. Was that when he gave up on loving anyone more than himself? Roman walked back to the house and sat on the edge of the leather sofa, head in his hands.
One person might tell him how to build a bridge to Grace. Brian Henley answered on the third ring. “I’ve been hoping you’d call. I just got home from church.”
“Can we meet for coffee? I need some light on a few things.”
“We all do.”
They set a time and place.