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.”