The Masterpiece

  “Is that all you care about? How popular he is?”

  “No! He’s nice! I like him! He’s smart, too.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s smart. It remains to be seen how he employs his intelligence.” Her eyes darkened. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to ruin your life. I’m trying to teach you some common sense. Don’t base decisions on teenage hormones. Your mother did, and look what happened to her.”

  Grace felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Nothing I do will ever be good enough for you.” Fighting tears, she pushed back the kitchen chair, gathered her books, and fled to her bedroom. She sat against the headboard and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. It didn’t stop the tears, but she could think again.

  Mrs. Spenser, her Sunday school teacher, always said to pray when things got bad. Wiping her face, Grace poured her heart out. Is she ever going to forgive me for what happened to my mother?

  The answer came like an arm around her shoulders and a gentle whisper. What troubled Aunt Elizabeth wasn’t Grace’s fault. Be still, and wait. I love you and I am here. I am always here. Wiping away the tears, she picked up her civics textbook and focused on what she had to get done.

  Patrick Moore showed up at her locker the next morning. Later that afternoon, he appeared at McDonald’s. “Take a look.” He grinned as he handed over his algebra worksheet. He’d gotten 100 percent and a note from Mr. Edersheim: Good job! Patrick laughed, triumphant. “You’re a better teacher than he is.” He had another assignment. Was she willing to help him again?

  A tiny warning bell went off inside Grace’s head. Was algebra Patrick’s only reason for seeking her out? Or was algebra an excuse because he really liked her?

  Once Patrick fixed his attention on Grace, everyone at school considered them a couple. He walked her to class and sat with her at lunch. They were often seen together in the library, bent over textbooks and talking in low whispers. Grace had always had the reputation of nice-girl-with-a-brain, but as Patrick’s grades went up, he was seen as more than a handsome jock. Girls still pursued him, but he didn’t do anything about it. Nothing that Grace ever heard, anyway.

  When Grace invited Patrick to church, he always had something else going on. He made it to Good Friday services and held her hand in the dim candlelight until Aunt Elizabeth gave them a fierce look. He squeezed her hand and let go. When Patrick asked her to junior prom, she didn’t think Aunt Elizabeth would let her go. But her aunt surprised them both: “You can take her if you have her home by eleven.” He seemed about to argue about the curfew, but one look at Grace silenced him. Aunt Elizabeth told Grace later she’d have to pay for her own dress, and it couldn’t come out of her college savings account. Grace found a green gown for ten dollars at the Salvation Army thrift store and added a pair of rhinestone earrings she’d bought for two dollars.

  Patrick looked like a model in his tuxedo, and he knew how to dance. He held her close and made it easy for her to follow his lead. She felt little tremors every time their bodies brushed against each other.

  He’d never kissed her, but that night in the car he did. “I like it that you’ve never been kissed by anyone but me.” Blushing, she asked him how he knew. “The way you keep your lips pressed tight together.” He leaned in. “Let me teach you a few things.” Grace put her hand against his chest. A shiver of alarm went through her when she felt how hard his heart was pounding and how warm he was. He drew back, studying her. “Okay.” He started the Regal. “You’re right. We don’t want to go down the road everyone else is on.”

  She didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved.

  When summer break came, Patrick flew to Colorado Springs. He called her twice the first week. He was staying with friends and having a great time. He didn’t know when he’d be back. She didn’t hear from him again. In mid-July, he walked into McDonald’s looking tan and happy. Sorry he hadn’t called, but he’d been on a camping trip in the Rocky Mountains. No cell reception up there. “We had a blast! I’ll tell you all about it when you get off work.” He took it for granted she’d been waiting for him all these weeks. Of course she had.

  Compared to Patrick’s, her life was dull routine. She loved hearing about his close encounter with a bear and how many fish he caught in a mountain stream and how they tasted after being cooked over an open fire. She drank in his stories of how he had to help rescue one of his buddies by rappelling down a mountainside. The only things she had to talk about were James Agee’s A Death in the Family, Willa Cather’s My Ántonia, Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, and four or five other books she’d read from the college-prep list. She could tell the moment Patrick lost interest and asked him more questions. He could have talked for hours about the wilds of Colorado.

  Senior year brought changes in their relationship. They spent more time studying than going out. They both needed scholarships. Patrick put his energy into football and dropped basketball. “I’m not tall enough to make it on a college team.” Grace maintained a 4.0 GPA, but her aunt insisted Grace needed more outside activities and community service for university applications. Grace wondered if her aunt was intent on filling every waking hour so she would have no time to be with Patrick. Grace dropped ten hours at McDonald’s to make sure that didn’t happen, and then volunteered at the local library literacy program. She took on the third-grade Sunday school class and spent Sunday afternoons at a local convalescent hospital running errands for the nurses, which usually meant sitting and paying attention to agitated dementia patients who never received any visitors.

  By graduation, plans had fallen into place. Patrick would receive a partial scholarship to play football at UCLA. His parents had set aside savings, but he would still have to work part-time off-season. Grace qualified for several scholarships and received acceptance letters from Berkeley and UCLA. If she maintained her grades and worked part-time and summers, she could make it through debt-free. She decided on UCLA.

  Aunt Elizabeth got out the shovel and went to work in the backyard. Grace stood inside watching her aunt through the sliding-glass door. Aunt Elizabeth attacked the ground with fury, turning soil. She didn’t have to ask what had angered her aunt this time. “Only a fool turns down Berkeley for UCLA.” Aunt Elizabeth was so angry she had tears in her eyes. “No matter what I say or do, it always turns out the same.”

  “I’ll work hard, Aunt Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, I know that.” She had a look of anguish Grace didn’t understand.

  She and Patrick didn’t see much of each other that last summer. He didn’t show up at McDonald’s. She wondered if he’d gotten a job. Hurt, Grace tried to put him out of her mind. Aunt Elizabeth didn’t ask or say anything about him.

  Grace moved into the university dorm and started working ten hours a week at a coffee shop on campus. She thrived in her classes. She ran into Patrick once. He’d scorned the dorm and rented a small apartment, even knowing he’d blow through all his parents’ savings by the end of the year. He’d been in a hurry, and they hadn’t talked long. A couple months passed, and then he called. He was struggling with grades. She listened. He told her how lonely he was. She was lonely, too. He told her how much he missed being with her. She said they could meet at the library, study together the way they used to in high school. He said they’d get more done if she came to his apartment. She knew that wasn’t a good idea, but he sounded so depressed, she agreed.

  They only kissed once that first day. The second time, they managed to study a few hours before they ended up on the couch. The next time, Patrick didn’t want to stop. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you since I walked into McDonald’s and saw you behind the counter. I need you, Grace. Don’t say no.”

  Grace thought she loved him, too, but she knew what they were doing was wrong. She could hear a whisper in the back of her mind. This isn’t what I want for you, beloved. Leave this place.

  When she tried to get up, Patrick groaned. “You can’t stop now.” He pulled her down b
eside him. “You can’t turn a guy on like this and not go all the way.” She felt guilty for letting it go so far. How could she say no now? Before she could make up her mind, it was too late. She gasped in pain. Patrick said he was sorry, but didn’t stop. When it was over, he held her. “Let’s get married. We’re old enough. Grace, I can’t make it without you.” Sitting up, he lifted her with him. Drawing her into his lap, he dug his fingers into her hair and kissed her. “Don’t tell your aunt.”

  Grace didn’t want to think about what they’d done. She didn’t want to analyze what she was feeling now. A bubble of panic? The feeling she was at a crossroads and about to take another wrong turn?

  Grace closed her mind to the convicting voice. I don’t care. He loves me. He said so. And it’s too late anyway. She just wanted to be loved. Was that so wrong? She wrapped her arms around Patrick and kissed him back. “Yes. Let’s get married.” Maybe then everything would be all right.

  Patrick’s family was pleased when Patrick called with the news that they’d gone to Las Vegas rather than have a wedding in Fresno. Byron Moore couldn’t have been more supportive. “Elizabeth will say you’re too young, but you saved her a bundle of money.” He laughed. “And I think my son knows his own mind.” The Moores suggested a reception over spring break. Patrick agreed. He hoped they would receive gifts and money.

  Grace had to gather courage to call Aunt Elizabeth to share the news of her marriage to Patrick. She held her breath, wondering if her aunt would say something affirming.

  Aunt Elizabeth gave a defeated sigh and said, “Why am I not surprised?” before hanging up.

  GRACE MET BRIAN at the church on Saturday morning. Half a dozen other adults showed up to chaperone the teen outing at Zuma Beach. Charlie, one of the church deacons, drove the bus while Brian talked with the kids. He’d loaded his iPhone with Christian rock music. The teenage girls sitting behind Grace thought Samuel was adorable. Grace turned sideways on the bus seat so she could hold him while talking with them. One asked if she was the lady who went to Lawry’s with Pastor Brian. Grace admitted she was.

  A pretty girl with a pierced eyebrow and a butterfly tattoo on her neck leaned forward. “He’s so cool. Anyone would want to be his girlfriend.”

  She wanted to quell any gossip. “Pastor Brian is very nice, and we’re friends. That’s why I came along to help today.”

  The two teenage girls shared a smiling look and changed the subject.

  As soon as the bus driver turned in to the beach parking area, Brian assigned teens to help unload supplies and claim an area for the barbecue. “No shirkers! Help each other.” He worked harder than anyone. It was early, breezy and cold, but beach enthusiasts were already arriving. The chill would soon be gone, the sun out, and the beach packed. Girls complained of being cold. Brian drafted help to put up a volleyball net and got a game going. Within minutes, sweatshirts were tossed.

  Several girls descended on Grace and asked if they could hold the baby. Seeing that Samuel was more than happy with them, Grace joined the game.

  By noon, the sun was high and hot and everyone glistened with sunblock. Brian and the teens bodysurfed or took turns riding boogie boards. Most of the adults didn’t want to get their feet wet. Grace went in knee-deep, holding Samuel in front of her so he could feel the frothy salt water tickle his toes. Squealing in delight, he kicked his legs. Laughing, Grace felt lighthearted and happy for the first time in months.

  Brian joined her. “He wants to swim already.”

  A day in the sun made the teens mellow and ready to talk on the drive back. Grace admired the way Brian connected with his kids. He joked with them and easily turned light conversation into the more serious discussion of faith and what it meant to walk with God. When asked pointed questions, he shared some of his own struggles and mistakes. Surprised, Grace listened to him talk about sex and the challenge of staying chaste until marriage. Several teased him at first, but a few exchanged glances telling Grace they might have already gone too far.

  “All our friends are having sex, Pastor.”

  “It can seem that way.” Brian rested his arm on the back of the seat. “Everyone was saying it was okay in my day, too.” Several said sex was no big thing anymore. As long as the two parties consented, it was no one else’s business. “It’s God’s business,” Brian said firmly. “Don’t kid yourself. Sex has always been a big thing. Let me tell you what I’ve learned.” He had their complete attention. “Girls play at sex to get love, and guys play at love to get sex. Charlene and I wanted to do everything God’s way. That meant staying virgins until we got married.”

  “How’d you manage that?” a boy asked from the back, and another gave a crude answer. A girl told him to shut up.

  Brian held up his hand. “Brady asked a question. How did we manage to stay virgins? We pushed up the wedding date.” The kids all laughed at that. “We got married while we were still in college. We had six great years together before I lost her in a car accident.” Anyone looking at his face would know he still loved and missed her. “What I’m trying to tell you is sex is powerful. In the right context, it’s a beautiful gift from God. Used in the wrong way, it can wound and break hearts. It can ruin lives.”

  Grace could attest to that.

  The conversation moved to drugs and partying, music and parents. Brian walked forward and talked to the deacon driving the bus. Then he faced the group. “Who’s hungry?” Hands shot up. Brian grinned. “That’s good, because we’re stopping for pizza.” The kids whooped and cheered.

  The bus pulled into a Round Table, and everyone piled out and headed inside. Grace sat with two girls while Brian went from booth to booth, talking with the kids. A boy who was not part of their group sat in a booth nearby. Brian paused to talk to him, too. After a couple of minutes, he slid into the seat facing him. Grace thought of Roman. He was a loner, too, though he wasn’t as unapproachable as he’d seemed at first.

  The kids were quiet on the ride back to the church. Some slept. Others talked in low voices. Samuel slept on Grace’s lap, his head against her chest. Brian looked at him and smiled at her. “Nothing like the sleep of the innocent.” His mouth tipped. “We’d just gotten the word we were expecting when Charlene was in the accident. Our baby would have been almost four years old now.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Brian.” Grace didn’t know what else to say.

  “You can’t take anything for granted in life.” His expression softened. “I’m glad you came along today. The kids took to you.”

  “They took to Samuel.”

  “He’s a charmer.” He got up and moved again, checking on people one by one.

  As soon as the bus pulled into the church parking lot, the students gathered their beach towels and bags and met parents in the parking lot, or headed for their own cars. Brian was busy, talking to the adults, making sure everyone had a ride home. Grace secured Samuel in his car seat. When she straightened, Brian joined her. “I hope you had a good time.”

  She smiled at him. “The best in quite a while.”

  “Glad to hear it. We didn’t have as much time together as I hoped. Sorry about that.”

  They hadn’t had more than five minutes at a time all day, but she’d spent most of the day observing Brian Henley, and learned a lot about how he viewed and treated people. Even strangers like the boy sitting alone in a booth at the pizza parlor. “You have great rapport with your group, Brian. They listen to you and respect you.” Clearly, he had earned both. “Samuel had fun, too.” She laughed. “All those pretty teenage girls gushing over him.”

  “Every boy’s dream.”

  “I had ten babysitters begging for work.”

  “And all of them hoping to someday have a cute little baby just like him.”

  “Hopefully not under the same circumstances.” She spoke without thinking and blushed. When Brian looked at her, she lifted her shoulders. “Not all of us were as wise as you and Charlene.”

  “Is it something
you want to talk about?”

  Was he putting on his counselor’s hat? “Not today.” Maybe never. So much depended on how well she and Brian got along.

  Brian didn’t press. “I’d like to see you again. Outside church activities.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Grace opened the driver’s side door and slid into the seat. She put the key in the ignition and lowered the window. Hooking on her seat belt, she looked up at Brian. “Thank you for inviting me along today.”

  Brian put his hands on the door and leaned down. “Glad you could make it. How about dinner Monday night? It’s my day off. I’ll pick you up at your place? All I need is the address.” Pleased, she gave him the information. She hadn’t expected him to ask her out so soon, if he did at all. Especially after her precipitous remark. He pushed himself back from her car. “Drive carefully. I’ll see you day after tomorrow.”

  Even on such short acquaintance, Grace felt certain Brian had all the qualities she dreamed of for a future husband and father for her son: a man of God, honest, dependable, intelligent, and attractive. Someone truly nice, someone who loved children, someone who worked for a living. She wasn’t sexually attracted to Brian, but that could be a good thing. She didn’t want emotion clouding her judgment.

  Lord, Brian Henley is the kind of man I want to marry someday, if I ever marry again. He’s a good, solid, dependable, nice guy who could love someone despite glaring faults and failures. Someone like Brian could love Samuel like a son. So, I’m asking. If this is your plan, Lord, please make it clear. You know how stupid I can be, how blind to who people really are. Please, Lord. Protect me. I don’t want to pick the wrong guy again.

  Roman awakened late Saturday morning, head pounding, and thirsty. Now that he was awake, he wanted to get back to Topanga Canyon. He shaved in the shower and called the valet to have his car brought around. Tossing clothing and toiletries into his duffel bag, he zipped it shut and slung it over his shoulder. He picked up a five-dollar coffee from the lobby vendor and headed out of the hotel. Grace made better. Saturday and Sunday were her days off. He’d have to wait for a good cup of java until Monday morning.