Sam Carter had said something similar. Bobby Ray’s heart pounded a war beat. “They should be jailing the ones who shot my friends!”
“They’d have to catch them first, and since no one is talking, that will take time.” He tilted his head, studying Bobby Ray. “If I had to guess, I’d say the shooter was after Edoardo Gerena, and your friends just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time.”
“Who’s Edoardo Gerena?”
“The party was in his apartment. You probably know him by his street name, Red Hot. From what I gather, he was in jail. One boy died at the scene.” All the time Rush talked, Bobby Ray felt the man studying him closely. Like a germ under a microscope. “Gerena’s brother died on the way to the hospital.”
The small world Bobby Ray had carved out over the last few months imploded. He tried to sit still and calm, but inside, he roiled in fury and pain.
“I’m just curious, Bobby Ray. Why weren’t you at the party?”
Maybe he should have been there. Maybe he could have done something to save his friends. Maybe he could have gotten shot, too. What difference would it have made? “I had other things to do.”
“Where were you that day?”
“School.”
“After school.”
Bobby Ray pushed his fingers through his hair and held his head. He should have gone to the party. He should have been with his friends. “The library.”
“That’s not what I expected to hear.”
Bobby Ray’s face went hot. He wished he hadn’t answered.
Rush pressed. “What were you doing at the library?”
He just looked at Rush. Let the man think whatever he wanted. He was done talking. Rush asked a few more questions. Bobby Ray didn’t say a word. Rush sighed, stacked papers, and put them in his briefcase. He stood and tapped the door. The guard opened it. “He’s all yours.” Rush walked out, leaving Bobby Ray alone with the guard.
That night, Bobby Ray dreamed of his mother again. He begged her not to leave, but she pushed his hands away and said she’d be back. I always come back, don’t I? Don’t hold on to me, baby. I gotta go to work.
GRACE OVERSLEPT SUNDAY MORNING, and awakened to her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand. Fumbling for it, she saw Shanice’s face on the screen and answered. “What time is it?”
“Where are you? We’re at the café. Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m still in bed. I was up until three.”
“I didn’t know you had that much stuff to put away.”
“I don’t. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Grace, honey, we have something to tell you. We wanted to tell you in person. Unfortunately, you didn’t show up.”
She wasn’t sure she could survive another of Shanice’s ideas.
“What is it?”
“You have a date this coming Wednesday, at seven.”
“Are we going to a movie or a Bible study?”
“You and Brian Henley are going to dinner at Lawry’s. Nice, huh?”
Groggy, Grace yawned. “I don’t know any Brian Henley.”
“Well, you will. We signed you onto a Christian mingle site, and when this incredible guy popped up, we responded.”
Grace’s eyes opened. “What? You’d better be kidding.”
“Just listen. He’s a widower, a youth pastor with a master’s, handsome as all get-out, loves kids. He’s perfect for you—”
Wide-awake now, Grace sat up. “I don’t need or want a man, Shanice.”
“It’s too late. The date is made.”
“Then you keep it.”
“He saw your picture. He’ll expect you to show up. He looks like a great guy. It’d be rude to stand him up.”
“Tell me how to contact him and I’ll—”
“Please, Grace. Do it for me.”
Grace knew what was bothering Shanice. “Why are you still feeling guilty? What happened wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I’ve never blamed you, ever.”
“I know, honey, but maybe I’ll feel better if you go on this date.”
“That’s blackmail!”
“Not if it turns out the way we’re all hoping.”
“And if it doesn’t, will you promise never to do this to me again?” She waited, but Shanice wasn’t one to make a promise lightly. “Shanice?”
“You might be interested to know how many gentlemen responded to your profile.”
Grace groaned. “Not really.”
“Okay. Okay. You’re not fully awake. I caught you at a bad time. But you’ll thank us later, I’m sure.”
Grace could hear Ashley in the background talking about how cute Brian Henley was. If he was a Brit, Grace wouldn’t have to worry. She could send Ashley in her place.
The warm waterfall shower felt so good, she lingered. Wash all my sins away, Lord. Cleanse my heart and mind from those memories that taunt me. Wash me whiter than snow. She could have let the water run forever. Grace combed her wet hair and shook it so the soft, natural curls loosened. She still had to make this cottage a home for her and Samuel.
Thankfully, Ruben had put the crib together. She had planned on doing that herself, but he insisted he had the necessary tools and experience. The sheets had tiny red, blue, and yellow airplanes. She set up the Baby Einstein Sea Dreams, hung the Fisher-Price Rainforest mobile, and put the plush lamb that played “Jesus Loves Me” in the corner. Samuel liked blankets with silky edges, and she had bought two, one with blue elephants and the other with yellow-and-orange giraffes. She couldn’t wait to have Samuel all to herself for a few days, no Selah eager to snatch the baby away or tend to his needs.
Oh, Lord, I know I’m being selfish, but Samuel is mine. I want more time with my son, not less. I want to be a good mother, even if I can’t be with him full-time.
The grocery store in Malibu had what she needed, but the prices were outrageous. She’d shop at Walmart or take Ashley’s suggestion to share-shop at Costco. They could split the supplies and the bill and both save money. With all her purchases put away, she opened the door to let in fresh air. Her mind kept buzzing with ideas. She’d need shelving for textbooks. She’d kept every one of them from the classes she had completed, as well as the ones from classes she dropped so she could work full-time to support Patrick. He’d promised she could go back after he graduated.
No point in thinking about all that now. She’d worked hard at ripping out the root of bitterness so she could forgive Patrick.
Forgiving herself was another matter.
Restless, Roman drove down to Malibu again and picked up lunch at the grocery deli. On impulse, he bought an orchid, figuring it would be a nice welcome gesture for his new tenant. He’d given her a full day and a half to settle in. What harm could it be to check on her?
Her front door stood wide-open. Roman took that as an invitation. He stopped short of stepping over her threshold. Grace didn’t even notice him as she sat at a small table, hand holding a thick book open as she wrote in a spiral notebook. He stood watching her for a moment. “Settled in already?”
Startled, she dropped her pen. Recovering quickly, she pushed back her chair and stood. “Sorry. I didn’t notice you standing there, Mr. Velasco.”
Were her eyes narrowing because of the sunlight or because he was crossing a line? Roman could almost read her mind. What is he doing here? It wasn’t the usual expression he saw on a woman’s face. “You were pretty deep in concentration.” He came inside, curious to see what she was doing to his cottage. He did own the place, after all. “Just making sure you aren’t repainting the walls.”
“I’d ask first.”
Of course she would. She looked tense. “Catching the afternoon breeze?”
“I didn’t want to run the air-conditioning. I forgot to ask about utilities.”
Utilities? Was she that hard up financially? “They’re included in the rent.”
“Which reminds me.” She moved papers aside and picked up a check. “First and last month’s rent.” She held it out.
“Already planning to move?” He took the check and stuffed it into his front pant pocket.
“It’s usually how things work. And a security deposit in case I do repaint the walls.” She smiled.
Roman smiled back. “Everything by the book, Ms. Moore.” He set the orchid on the table in front of her. “A housewarming present.”