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 polished 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. You’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.
Pastor Andrew greeted her with a welcoming hug. “Miranda told me you’re moving north to Merced.” He recommended an independent Christian church. “An old friend of mine just retired and turned the pulpit over to a millennial on fire to reach his generation. Give it a try.” He had written all the needed information on the back of his card. “And keep in touch.” He gave her a fatherly kiss on the cheek.
There were new faces among the familiar. “The congregation’s growing.”
“Trouble in one of the larger churches,” her aunt told her. “The new pastor swept house over the last two years. Anyone who questioned his authority and message was pushed out the door. They came and settled here. I went once to hear the man preach. Dynamic speaker, a leader of men, but Jesus had left the building. The lady over there, Charlotte, has started a women’s Bible study. And that gentleman over there, Michael, now teaches a couples’ class. Remember how they had to draft you to teach Sunday school? Well, we now have several seasoned teachers who delight in Miranda’s Sunday school program. What that congregation lost, God planted here. He gave us the people we needed.”
This church felt as much like home as the bigger, more charismatic one she’d attended in Los Angeles. She knew God would have a church home for her in Merced. She’d already packed the car, intending to leave early, until Aunt Elizabeth asked her to come to church with her. Grace hadn’t been sure she would be welcome after such a long absence and since her divorce. She should have known better.
“Thank you for making me go,” Grace said on the drive back to the house.
Aunt Elizabeth looked over. “The longer you stay away, the more excuses keep you away. There might be a few people who think they’re holier than thou, but the rest love you and wanted a chance to let you know.”
When Grace pulled in next to the curb and stopped, her aunt opened the door. “Have a safe trip.”
Grace spoke quickly before her aunt could escape. “I love you very much. Thank you for the last few days.”
Her aunt’s shoulders drooped slightly, and she didn’t look at Grace. “Call me when you get settled in your new home.” She got out of the car without a word or look for Samuel. Grace leaned down and watched her aunt walk up the path, open the front door, and close it behind her. She wondered if she’d ever understand Elizabeth Walker.
It was an easy one-hour drive to Merced. The hotel was far less impressive than the one Roman had booked on the trip they took, but it was clean, close to the freeway, and offered a complimentary breakfast. Grace took Samuel for a long ride around town, wasting gas but getting acquainted with the streets, parks, UC campus. She ate at a small café, Samuel in his car seat next to her.
Back at the hotel, she settled Samuel in the playpen while she worked at her computer. Later, she tucked him into bed with her. Facing so many changes in her life, Grace had trouble sleeping. What was Roman doing right now? Working in his upstairs studio? Out at a club? He’d probably hired her replacement within days. She looked at the digital clock. Two in the morning.
Samuel awakened with the dawn and wanted to play. Grace dragged herself out of bed and got ready for the busy day ahead.
The first apartment would have worked perfectly, but the manager said the landlord was unlikely to rent to an unemployed, single mother. He asked if she qualified for welfare. She told him she had an online business. Questions followed, and she answered honestly.
The manager shook his head. “A start-up, you mean, and we all know how few last. Good luck, Ms. Moore. You’re going to need it.”
Grace stopped by the church Pastor Andrew had recommended and talked with the secretary, Marcia Bigelow. She was friendly and encouraging. “We have a Wednesday morning Bible study with childcare. Most are older ladies, but we sure would like to have a younger one join us.” Grace thanked her for the information, doubting she’d have time for the weekly morning class.
The next day was long and without result. Two apartments had already been rented before she arrived for her appointments, and the manager of the third complex looked her over and asked if she had a significant other. She avoided answering, but felt uncomfortable as he showed her the apartment. “You’d be right down the hall from me. Any problems turn up and I’d be at your door in a heartbeat.” She left.
Wednesday morning, Grace scanned the classifieds on the Merced Sun-Star website and jotted down possibilities. She made one more call, and the manager vented about college kids and parties. Yes, he had an apartment available, but he’d already had several calls before hers, and she’d have to wait her turn. Four o’clock was open. “Fill out the application online.”
Sitting on the hotel room carpet, Grace prayed while playing with her son. She felt the nudge to attend the morning Bible study and glanced at the clock. She’d be late, but better to slip in quietly than sit here and obsess about things over which she had no control.
A circle of twelve women sat on folding chairs. The instructor smiled when Grace walked through the door. “Hello! Are you Grace Moore? Marcia said you might stop by. Welcome.”
Several women turned simultaneously, and one stood, practically glowing with pleasure. “A baby!” The others laughed as the dark-haired lady led Grace to a clean, well-equipped preschool classroom. “I’m Lucy Yeong, and this is . . . ?” Grace introduced Samuel, who barely looked at Lucy and squirmed to be put down among the colorful shoe box–size blocks. “He’ll be fine,” Lucy assured Grace. “I’ve raised four of my own and have ten grandchildren.”
Grace joined the other ladies. Anna Janssen, the instructor, introduced herself and had the ladies each do likewise. “We’d just started, Grace. Ephesians, chapter 5. Would you like to read the first two verses?”
It didn’t take long to find out these older women knew a lot more about God’s Word than Grace did and had been putting it into practice for decades. The discussion was lively, sometimes serious, other times filled with laughter. Anna reminded Grace of Miranda Spenser. Age didn’t matter; Grace felt right at home with these women. When it came time to end in prayer, Anna asked if there were any specific needs. Grace said she was looking for an affordable apartment.
Dorothy Gerling asked to talk with her after class ended.
“What about a house? We have a two-bedroom bungalow for rent. Our daughter was living in it before she enlisted in the Air Force. George and I have been debating whether to rent or sell.” Grace told her how much she could afford to pay. “That sounds fine to me, but let me check with George.”
Grace went to reclaim Samuel from Lucy Yeong, who looked as infatuated as Aunt Elizabeth had. “He’s adorable. I hope you’re coming back on Sunday. I’m in charge of the nursery.”
Dorothy peered in. “George says yes. Would you like to take a look right now? I have time, if you do.”
Post–World War II bungalows lined the street, some overgrown, some neat and simple. Dorothy met her on the sidewalk. “There’s been a real turnover in this neighborhood over the last five years. Elderly owners are dying or selling to the younger generation. Lots of diversity here.”
It was affordable housing in a far-from-affordable world.
The Gerlings’ bungalow sat on a corner lot. The lawn was recently mowed, and neatly trimmed shrubs wrapped around the front. Dorothy said they had hired a gardening service to maintain the place, so Grace wouldn’t have to worry about yard work. Dorothy unlocked the front door. Grace followed her into a cozy, furnished living room. Both bedrooms were also furnished. “We remodeled the bathroom last year.” A new sink, cabinets, shower, and tub. The kitchen was small but functional with a table against the windows looking out onto a huge backyard.
“You and Samuel would be perfectly safe here. Just keep the doors and windows locked and get to know your neighbors.”
Grace had already noticed the Neighborhood Watch sign on the other corner. Her years in Los Angeles County had taught her to be careful.
“This used to be the garage.” Dorothy went through a side door from the kitchen and two steps down. The room would make a good office. A door opened into a single-car garage that would easily accommodate her Civic.
“No air-conditioning, unfortunately. It would cost too much to put it in, but they built these houses so people could open their windows in the morning and evening and let in the cool, fresh air. And there’s a nice covered patio out here.” Dorothy opened the French door to the outside. “It’s lovely in spring and summer. Alison loved to sit and read in that swing.”
Grace gasped as she got a good look at the fenced and hedged backyard. In Los Angeles, builders would have put up another bungalow. A lawn covered the first two-thirds of the backyard. The back had empty vegetable boxes and a small garden shed. The white picket fence behind that separated the property from a single-lane road.
“That’s a nectarine tree over there,” Dorothy pointed out. “I still do canning. I’ll come over when the fruit is ripe. You can keep as much as you want, of course.”
“It’s so beautiful, Dorothy. Are you sure you want to rent it for so little?”
“I’m delighted, Grace. An unoccupied house can be a problem for the neighborhood. And there are young families moving in now. I’m sure when you take Samuel out in the stroller, you’ll meet other mothers your age.” She looked around. “Besides, I’m not ready to sell this place. Alison might change her mind in a few years and decide to come back to Merced. George says I’m dreaming, but I guess I’m just not ready to let go yet.”
“Do you want me to sign a rental agreement?”
“I suppose they do that sort of thing these days, but I think I can trust you. How many girls with a baby show up at a Bible study a couple days after they move to a new town? A check for half a month’s rent now, since we’re already two weeks into August. Then the full month’s rent will be due on the first each month. How’s that?”
“An answer to prayer.” Grace put Samuel down and let him explore the living room while she took her checkbook from her shoulder bag.
Dorothy chuckled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time with a baby. Alison is our only child. She was engaged last year, but they broke it off. Alison has always had a mind of her own, and a lot of men are put off by that.” She took out a notepad and began writing.
“Thank you so much, Dorothy.” Father, forgive me for having any doubts about Your provision. “God is good.”
Dorothy glanced at her with a wide smile. “All the time.” She tucked Grace’s check carelessly into her purse, tore off the notepaper, and handed it over. “Our address and phone number, in case you have any problems with plumbing or the stove or gophers in the back lawn. Whatever. Just give us a call and George will be over like a flash. He loves to fix things.”
“If it’s all right, I’d like to stay for a little while.”
“Of course.” Dorothy handed her the key. “The house is yours now.”
Grace saw her out the front door, thanking her again, before closing it. She covered her face, overwhelmed with what had just happened. “Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, thank You!” Laughing, she scooped up Samuel and kissed his chubby cheeks. “What do you think of your new home, Rapscal? Isn’t God good to us?”
Setting Samuel down again, she called Aunt Elizabeth. “Guess what? Samuel and I have a two-bedroom house! Would you like to come up this weekend and see it?”
Aunt Elizabeth didn’t speak for a moment, and then answered in a husky voice. “Yes. I’d like that very much. All I need is an address.”
“East Twenty-Second Street.” Grace laughed. “Hold on. I have to go outside to tell you the number. I forgot to look.”