“Who gets married these days without trying each other on?” He thought of Hector and Tracy, already pregnant.
“Try each other on? You mean like a change of clothes.” Jasper sounded angry now. “You want a relationship that lasts? You commit. You want to play house and screw around? Go back to the club and find another one-night stand.”
Roman could feel Jasper’s disappointment, but it wasn’t close to his own. How many times had he risked his life climbing to high places to blast a wall, but he didn’t have the guts to risk his heart. He thought he could protect himself from the pain, but it was here, full-on, deep-set, like claws trying to pull him under.
“Bobby Ray.” Jasper’s tone had softened. “Call her. Apologize. Ask if you can start over.”
“It’s too late.”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“She’s not picking up.”
“Be strong and courageous. For once in your life, come out of the shadows.”
They talked for over an hour. Roman stayed on the beach all night and watched the sunrise. “Jesus.” The light and colors brought back the relief and wonder of being pulled up out of hell and feeling life come into him again. “Jesus.” Roman wanted to pray, but didn’t know how. “Jesus.” He looked at the sunrise and remembered the power that lifted him from death to life. “Jesus, help me.”
When Roman returned to Topanga Canyon, he went into the cottage. Grace had left the key on the kitchen counter. No note. Wrenching pain filled him. Alone, in silence, he admitted what he’d known for a long time. He loved her. Until this moment, he hadn’t been able to admit it, let alone say it to her. If he said it now, she wouldn’t believe him.
He’d spent three years looking for his mother before finding out she’d died the night she left him alone in the apartment. Only then had he given up. Was that when he gave up on loving anyone more than himself? Roman walked back to the house and sat on the edge of the leather sofa, head in his hands.
One person might tell him how to build a bridge to Grace. Brian Henley answered on the third ring. “I’ve been hoping you’d call. I just got home from church.”
“Can we meet for coffee? I need some light on a few things.”
“We all do.”
They set a time and place.
ROMAN ENTERED Common Grounds and spotted Brian Henley seated at a table in the corner. Laptop open, he raised a tall cup of coffee in greeting. Roman nodded in acknowledgment and got into line. He’d expected Brian to suggest a Starbucks downtown, not a place in an industrial park filled with blue-collar workers.
Roman relaxed. He was back in the old hood. A tattooed, male barista took orders while a girl with flaming-red hair and piercings in her nose, her lip, and the tops of her ears worked the machines.
Sluggish from lack of sleep, Roman ordered three shots of espresso in a tall, regular coffee. The two baristas moved like dancers, working around each other with tango precision. They had to, considering the number of clients. Most customers collected their orders and left. A few stayed, occupying the half-dozen tables.
Brian closed his laptop when Roman slid into the seat facing him. Tucking the computer into a worn backpack, he looped the straps over the back of his chair. He picked up his cup of coffee and gave Roman his full attention. “Glad you didn’t back out.”
“I had my moments.” The coffee was hot and rich. Still not as good as Grace’s. “You hang out here a lot?”
“It’s close to work and a good place to meet new people.”
This clean-cut guy wanted to meet ghetto rats? A teenage girl with dreadlocks came in and called a greeting. Brian knew her name. “Does Shanice know you’re meeting chicks at a local coffeehouse?” He meant it to be rude.
Brian just smiled. “She’s got nothing to worry about.” He grew serious. “You look tired.”
“Too much on my mind.”
“Hell or Grace?”
“They kind of go together, don’t they?” Roman gave a bleak laugh. He wanted to ask if Brian had learned where she was staying, but knew he wouldn’t get an answer. “She’s probably told you the whole story by now.”
“She didn’t volunteer, and I didn’t ask. You talked about your near-death experience in hell at the barbecue. That’s something I won’t forget.”
“I hadn’t planned to talk about it at all.” Roman spoke dryly.
“Hard thing to keep locked up inside yourself.”