The easy rapport surprised Roman. He found himself talking about growing up in the Tenderloin, shoplifting from corner markets so he had something to eat, his mother’s disappearance, moving from one foster home to another. “Jasper says I have abandonment issues.”
“No big surprise there.”
Roman finished the last of his coffee. “I never had a father.”
“You always had a Father. Now you can get to know Him.” Brian’s phone signaled another message. He checked it.
Roman glanced at the time and said a foul word out of habit. “We’ve been talking for two hours.”
Brian laughed. “Good to know we can. I’ve got to get back to church.” He stood and shrugged on his backpack. He stopped on the sidewalk. “How about next week?”
Roman was surprised the pastor was willing to go another round with him. “Sure. You name the time. I make my own schedule, but you have a job.”
Brian walked backward, facing Roman. “I’ll check my calendar and call you.”
“You need a ride?”
“I’m two minutes away. The church is a block down on the right.”
Roman didn’t see any steeple. “That’s an industrial building.”
“Yeah!” Brian grinned. “Low rent, plenty of space. Hey, do you play basketball? The youth group is playing tonight.”
“No basketball.” Roman sighed. “I used to do parkour.” Stretches and strengthening exercises had brought a lot of pain, but no improvement to his leg. It was a constant reminder he hadn’t imagined his trip to hell.
“Why don’t you come and look around on Sunday? No shirts and ties here. Service at ten.” Shifting his pack, Brian jogged across the street and disappeared down a driveway.
The meeting hadn’t gone as Roman expected. He’d felt at ease, as though nothing he might say would surprise Brian Henley. Maybe pastors had heard it all.
With the encouragement of her friends, Grace decided to launch an online business. She wasn’t convinced it would be enough to support her and Samuel, but it was a start.
“Good grief, girl.” Shanice was her biggest cheerleader. “High school honor roll, scholarship to UCLA, promoted from receptionist and secretary to office manager at a public relations firm in under four years! You have a lot going for you. You’ve got all kinds of marketable skills, honey. All you need is a little confidence. I tried to tell you that when you first lost your job.”
Grace’s friends had taken on the project at their most recent Sunday lunch.
Ashley suggested a website. “We need a good name for it. You can link it to a blog about a single mom with a baby making it in the world. That would help drive traffic to your site.”
Grace gave a soft laugh. “I haven’t made it anywhere yet.”
“You will. God isn’t going to let you down.” Ashley stirred her coffee. “It’s the journey people want to read about.”
“You can offer several different services.” Shanice jotted notes. “You know how to write a good résumé. That’s a marketable skill right there. You helped your husband write his term papers, didn’t you? You could offer online editing. And tutoring.”
“Did you ever write slogans for that PR firm?” Ashley made herself comfortable on the sofa.
“Sometimes.” Harvey Bernstein had often asked her to help with brainstorming. She’d come up with a few one-liners still seen on billboards.
“Sometimes start-up companies need people to write slogans. They pay good money for them.”
Her friends’ confidence in God’s provision and in her skills bolstered Grace. She designed VirtualGrace.biz with free graphics. She listed her qualifications and services offered and wrote her first blog post.
She called Harvey Bernstein with her plan. He kept his eyes on the game and knew several people who might need her assistance. He even told her what prices she should charge. “These are up-and-comers who will expect to pay more, and you’re worth it. I just pulled up your website. Great job, Grace. That’ll get you work as well.” Harvey had always been an encourager.
The first inquiry came from the son of a friend of Harvey’s who had a start-up tech business and needed a brochure. He told her she’d been highly recommended, and sent his business plan and pictures.
Her first blog, “Sifting through the Rubble,” drew attention as well, especially after Shanice shared it with everyone she knew—old friends and new, church members, business associates at two studios. Ashley passed along the post to fellow teachers and administrators. Grace hadn’t expected her confessional to be of interest to anyone, but comments and e-mails poured into the website, most from women, half of them mothers. A few offered practical advice.
Selah kept calling. They had talked twice since Grace took Samuel, and both had been distressing conversations. Grace stopped answering. She hoped Selah would come to accept that her time with Samuel, while greatly appreciated, was now over. This was the tenth voice mail in two days. I know you’ve received my messages, Grace. Considering all I did for you, you could at least give me the courtesy of returning my calls. I want to know that Sammy is all right.
“Enough!” Shanice tossed the magazine she’d been reading on the coffee table. “Do you want me to call her back and tell her to stop harassing you?”
“She loves him, Shanice. I should’ve left their house when I first had Samuel instead of allowing her to feel false hope.”
“You told her. She just didn’t want to listen.” Shanice sat on the sofa next to Grace and put her arm around her. “Oh, honey, don’t feel so guilty. Samuel is your son, not hers.”
“I don’t know how to make it easier for her.”
“You told Selah when you moved to Topanga Canyon you intended to have Samuel full-time as soon as you could arrange for proper childcare. It’s been two weeks, and she’s still calling. Maybe you should change your phone number.”
“I know, but it feels so final.”
Shanice gripped her hand. “Don’t start lying to yourself. You’ve been hoping Roman would contact you again. And if he did, what would you do? Move in with him the way Nicole has with Charles? You saw how unhappy she was the last time we saw her. Is that what you want?”
“No.” Right now, she didn’t care about anything. She was miserable and aching to see him again. Be honest, Grace. In her current emotional state, Roman could easily make her forget her moral decision. A few more kisses like that one and she’d give in to what he wanted rather than what God wanted for her.
“Little boys want their toys, honey.”
Grace looked at Samuel playing contentedly on the floor and remembered the day Roman had come over to the cottage exhausted after nights without sleep. They’d talked, and he’d held Samuel on his knee. He’d stretched out on her sofa, Samuel on his chest, and both had fallen asleep. She sat, looking at them for the longest time. Samuel needed a daddy. Had she been hoping Roman would want to fill that role?
She had to stop thinking about him! She needed to concentrate on moving forward, starting over again.
Shanice had given her strength over the last two weeks, but Grace didn’t want to outstay her welcome. Shanice had a life of her own, and Brian wanted to be part of it. Whenever he called, Shanice looked guilty, as though she’d done something terrible to Grace rather than merely invite her to have a girls’ night out. Grace was responsible for what happened, not her friend. And then, in the aftermath, she’d delayed moving ahead because she lacked faith. Now she realized the cost to Selah and her family. She didn’t want to make the same mistake again.
“I’m going back to Fresno, Shanice.”
“To your aunt’s?” Shanice’s eyes widened. “But she wouldn’t even speak to you—”
“I’m not planning to stay. I’m only going for a visit. If she’ll let me. It’s time, and she and I need to talk.”
“What if she slams the door in your face?”
Grace gave a soft laugh. “Aunt Elizabeth would never be so rude.”
“Why are you going to her when she wouldn’t help you before?”
“I just want to talk with her about a few things.” When her aunt had left Memphis, she’d abandoned everything and everyone she knew. Maybe Aunt Elizabeth could tell her how she’d done that. Grace also wanted to know why.