The Masterpiece

Chet’s brows rose. “Sounds serious.”

“As serious as it can get. I’m hoping she’ll hear me out.”

Susan opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She gave Chet a look and focused on the bacon. Chet poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Roman. “Jasper told us things didn’t go well between you two. That’s why we didn’t bring her up.”

“I behaved like an ass. She had the good sense to quit and leave. I owe her more than an apology.”

“She’s agreed to see you. That’s good news.”

He’d have to wait to find out.

The house was already hopping. All four boys were up, had showered, and came into the kitchen hungry and talking, except for Jaime, who jerked his chin at Roman in greeting. Susan told Roman to sit down. “You’re not traveling on an empty stomach. And if your meeting isn’t until this afternoon, you have plenty of time for breakfast.” She served him scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and put the platters on the table for the rest to pass around, family style. Roman seldom ate a full breakfast and had to restrain his impatience to get on the road.

Once the boys were fed and on their way to morning chores, Roman felt free to leave. Chet and Susan walked him to his car. “You want a little advice about women?” Chet patted Roman’s shoulder. “Take it slow and easy.”

Susan gave an indelicate snort. “If I’d waited for you to propose, I’d still be living with my parents in Texas.”

“I proposed.”

“You said you had something to ask me in a few years. I said, ‘Why wait?’”

Chet smirked at her and winked at Roman. “Like I said. Take it slow and easy. The girl will let you know what she wants and when she wants it.”

Susan punched him in the arm.

Driving out of the yard, Roman looked in the rearview mirror. Chet had his arm around Susan as they both waved. Susan leaned into her husband.

Lord, that’s the kind of relationship I want.



Grace tried to work, but she couldn’t concentrate. Desperate to do something to curb her tension, she cleaned house while Samuel played contentedly with blocks on the living room rug. It stopped raining long enough to take Samuel out for a walk around the block. She wanted him tired and sound asleep when Roman came. Samuel toddled along happily for a while, but he soon started fussing and wanted back in the stroller. She went on ahead, encouraging him to chase her. He enjoyed that for half a block and then sat in the middle of the sidewalk in protest. When they returned home, she fed him lunch and put him on the carpet to play. He wanted to be held. Giving in, Grace rocked him. She almost fell asleep in the chair. Settling him in his race car bed, she kissed him and carefully closed the door.

She had time to brush her teeth and take a quick shower, but no time for makeup. A touch of lipstick would have to do. She brushed her hair hurriedly and raked her fingers through it. Staring at herself in the mirror, depressed, she looked pale, shadows under her eyes and wild-eyed on top of it. Calm down, Grace. Breathe! She drew in her breath, letting it out slowly. It helped relax her. She prayed and felt prepared. Until the doorbell rang.

Rubbing damp palms against her jeans, Grace took another deep breath and released it before opening the door. Roman stood on the other side of the screen door, and her pulse rocketed. So much for moving on. Oh, Lord, help me.



Roman felt all the old fears rise when he walked up the path to Grace’s front door. Love had always been the enemy, the emotion to avoid. In the past months, Brian had helped him see more clearly what Jasper had tried to get across for years. Just because one person let you down didn’t mean everyone would. And, in truth, Roman had let Grace down because he’d lacked the courage to step up and be the man God intended him to be.

That was then; this is now, he reminded himself. I behaved like a child. God, make me the man You want me to be.

He stood at the door, heart in his throat, and pressed the doorbell. Lord of mercy, help me say what needs to be said. And if it’s Your will . . .

The door opened. Grace appeared, and all thought left him. He could hardly breathe. If he’d ever had any doubt about being in love with this woman, it was gone now. She looked younger, more vulnerable, her dark hair longer, down around her shoulders. She was wearing the pink sweater, white blouse, and jeans he remembered. She’d lost weight, but then, so had he. He couldn’t tell what she was feeling, but he sensed wariness. Considering what had happened between them the last time they were together, Roman understood her distrust. She inhaled sharply, and his heart pounded harder. It helped to know she was nervous, too, afraid how this time together might go. Seeing that made him calmer. Roman knew how and where he wanted this meeting to end. Or rather begin.

Unlatching the screen door, Grace pushed it open a few inches. “Come in.” She stepped back. To give him room or to keep her distance? She didn’t meet his gaze, but offered her living room with a tense gesture. The sofa was pale turquoise with yellow pillows. She’d hung up the hand-lettered artwork, which he now recognized as a quote from Psalms, and the pictures of Jesus.

Where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there.

“Please. Sit.” Grace’s voice trembled slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ll make some coffee.”

Roman felt as much at home in this house as the cottage. It wasn’t the furnishings or decorations. It was Grace. Instead of sitting, Roman followed her and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her. The faint flush in her cheeks had disappeared. She was pale now. Was she afraid of him? He hoped not. She almost dropped the canister and gave him an embarrassed glance. He didn’t have to ask if he was making her nervous, and he didn’t want her to be. How much of what he felt showed in his face? Too much, apparently. He had to stop drinking in the sight of her.

Take it slow and easy, Chet had said. But not too slow, according to Susan.

Roman tossed all his experience with women. None of it applied. If he didn’t say something soon, he’d have another heart attack. He smiled at her, hoping to get them both over a rough start. “I’ve missed your coffee.” He could stand all day and watch her. She was more beautiful to him than anything he’d ever seen. But she might relax if he looked at something else.

The view from the kitchen window showed a large lawn and vegetable garden. “Nice place for Samuel to play.” Grace said yes. She took an unsteady breath as she spooned coffee. Then she started to talk. She told him about Dorothy and George Gerling, her landlords, and Juan and Angela Martinez and their three children who lived right next door. Juan planted the vegetable garden, and Angela gave her parenting tips, and little Matías was Samuel’s first good buddy. She was rambling, a sign she was still nervous. He noticed she’d filled the coffee filter to the brim. She uttered a soft gasp and spooned coffee grounds back into the canister.

Roman wanted to put his arms around her and say, It’s okay, Grace. I’m just as scared as you are. He tried to relax, but his pulse galloped, his breath high and tight. He breathed in and out slowly before he spoke. “Where’s Samuel?”

“He’s down for a nap.” Grace barely glanced at him, her attention caught by something on the kitchen table. Roman looked down at a blue-trimmed plate, and understood. There were the things she’d gathered on their road trip: five smooth stones, a pinecone, and a pair of acorns linked together by a single twig.

Picking up the acorns carefully, Roman held them in the palm of his hand. “You didn’t throw them away.”

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