“I covered my ears. It got quiet for a few minutes, and I listened, hoping my mother would come. But my father was talking. His voice was different. He kept saying, ‘Leanne, Leanne . . .’ He sounded scared. And then he started opening doors and closets. I thought he was hunting for me. And then he slid the closet door open. He threw boxes off the top shelf and found a gun. I must have made a sound because he pushed the clothes aside and saw me in the back corner.”
Roman drove with eyes straight ahead. “Did he say anything?”
She wiped tears away with a trembling hand. “No. He just stood there staring at me.” Her voice broke, and she looked away for a moment. Closing her eyes, she could almost see her father’s face. “After a minute, he pushed the clothes along the rod so I couldn’t see him anymore. I heard him leave the room. I was afraid he’d come back, but a few minutes later, I heard the shot.”
Grace wondered what Roman was thinking. She gave a bleak laugh. “I’ll bet you’re sorry you asked.”
“No. I’m not. But it’s not the life I imagined you’d had.”
“Others have been through worse.” Bobby Ray Dean, for one.
A wry smile curved his mouth. “I assumed you grew up in a nice family in some middle-class neighborhood, had lots of friends, went to church every Sunday . . .” He grimaced and uttered a curse. “Were you the one who found him? Your father?”
“No. A police officer found me. He put my mother’s parka on me and covered my head before taking me out. A neighbor kept me until CPS came. I was placed in foster care until my aunt arrived.” She wanted Roman to understand. “It was hard on Aunt Elizabeth. She’d just lost her sister. Unfortunately, every time she looked at me—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Grace.”
“In a way it was. My mother wouldn’t have married my father if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with me. When I married Patrick, Aunt Elizabeth said I was just like her.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
“You were pregnant, and he was abusive?”
“No.” She felt the heat surging into her cheeks. “We never did anything but kiss in high school. Then we ran into each other at UCLA, started studying together. And he, well . . . we . . .” Embarrassed, she looked away.
“You had sex.”
What a blunt way of putting it. “I wanted to make things right. Patrick wanted to make things easy.”
“And Samuel?”
“My son came later.”
“How long were you married?”
“Long enough to get Patrick through UCLA.” She shrugged. “A few months later, I came home early from work and found him in bed with someone else. The girl’s father owned the gym where he worked out.”
Roman winced. “That must have hurt.”
“Not as much as it should have. I think I knew why he married me right from the beginning. I just didn’t want to face the truth. Patrick needed me to get where he wanted to go. He never loved me. I was pretty pathetic when I think about it.” She didn’t want to talk about her life anymore. She didn’t want to be cornered with any other questions that might arise. Especially about Samuel. “Your turn to talk.”
“As you pointed out a while ago, I had the Mastersons and Jasper. They loved me.”
“They still love you.”
“I have no idea why. I haven’t made it easy.”
He didn’t make anything easy. “God was taking care of you.” God had taken care of her, too, even when she hadn’t realized it.
“There it is again.” Roman gave her a half smile. “The God thing. Miranda talked about Jesus the same way you do. Like He’s a close friend.”
Grace could let it pass, but it mattered what Roman thought, more now than ever. “He is her closest friend. He’s mine, too. I just haven’t been a very good disciple.” She had certainly missed shining any light for Roman or Bobby Ray Dean or whoever he was. If he knew her whole story, what would he think about her then?
“When did you start believing? In Sunday school?” His smile was condescending. “Not going to say anything? And here I thought Christians were always eager to proselytize.”
“How many do you know?”
“I’ve met a few. In clubs.” He sounded cynical.
She turned toward the window.
“Talk to me, Grace.”
His moods changed quickly. “I came to faith when I was seven, after my aunt moved me to Fresno.”