The sermon ended too quickly for Roman. He wanted to hear more, but the band came out again. A last song, another word from the pastor, and it was all over. “I’ll get Samuel and meet you out front.” Before Roman could stop her, Grace slipped out and joined the throng heading for the exit. Nicole sat texting. Ashley looked around and then intercepted a man in a business suit. He looked happy to see her.
Shanice grinned at him. “You survived. What do you think of church?”
“Not what I expected.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know. I was expecting formality and tradition and a list of everything you have to stop doing.”
She laughed. “There are all kinds of churches, Roman.” Someone caught her attention and gave her a hug. Roman noticed plenty of public displays of affection, all circumspect, and hoped no one would attempt to hug him.
Shanice introduced him to several people, including a man who immediately invited him to a men’s breakfast the following Saturday. Roman said thanks, he’d think about it. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than having breakfast with a bunch of strangers.
“There are a wide range of choices, if you want to get involved,” Shanice told him as they made their way to the double doors. “We have baseball and soccer teams, and there are plenty of guys who like to play tennis and golf.”
Golf? Roman gave her a dry smile. “Anybody do parkour?”
“Is that why you’re limping?” When he stayed silent, she gave a slight shrug. “Well, you’d be surprised. I know two stuntmen who go to church here. So, where did you learn it? Training for American Ninja Warrior?”
“I picked it up in the neighborhood I grew up in, in San Francisco. A matter of survival.”
She raised her brows. “I thought you were some aristocrat’s brat who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth.”
“Seriously?” Roman laughed. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Well, homeboy, we were neighbors. I grew up across the bay, in Oakland. Plenty of drugs and gangs there, too.” She gave a grim laugh. “I always picked a boyfriend big enough to beat up anyone who tried to mess with me.”
He knew there was more to that story. “Parents?”
“My father’s serving time at Chowchilla. My mother was one tough mama who made sure I finished school and went on to college. How about you?”
“Not so lucky.”
Grace joined them, Samuel riding her hip like a cute little monkey. Shanice grinned. “Roman’s still here. I thought he was going to bolt for the door before the service even got started, but he stuck it out like a good soldier.” She took Samuel and buried her face in his neck, blowing raspberries against his skin while he squirmed and laughed.
“Roman drove, so I won’t make it to lunch today.”
Shanice handed Samuel back. “I’ll call you later. We’ll make time this week.” She squeezed Roman’s arm. “It was good to have you here, Mr. Velasco.”
Grace kept Samuel at the cottage until his bedtime. Bundling him up, she took him back to Burbank. Selah came out the front door the moment Grace pulled up to the curb. She didn’t even greet Grace as she opened the door, unbuckled Samuel, and lifted him from his car seat. “I’ve missed my Sammy.” Jostled awake, he cried. “Ay, mi corazón, al fin estás en casa.”
Selah slammed the car door. Glaring at Grace, she spoke in rapid Spanish. She reverted to English. “I was worried! I thought you’d had an accident! Don’t keep him so late.” She didn’t give Grace a chance to speak as she hurried up the walkway and went inside the house. The front porch light went out.
Grace got back in the car and sat for a moment, fighting tears. She felt wrenching loss after having had a whole week with Samuel, knowing it would be Friday before she would see him again, and then only for two nights. She hadn’t had any luck finding suitable, affordable childcare, even after months of looking. Was she being too particular, demanding too much in the way of recommendations? Was she afraid to hurt Selah, who had been so supportive over the last year? Selah hadn’t been concerned about Grace’s feelings this evening. She had looked at her like an enemy, spoken harsh words, some of which Grace understood. Ungrateful. Irresponsible. She cried most of the way home.
Unlocking the cottage door, Grace dumped her purse and keys on the table. The empty crib made her cry again. She got ready for bed. An hour passed, then another, and she still couldn’t sleep. She got up when the digital clock glowed 12:34.