Afterglow, his best work, was still on the easel. He looked at it every day, seeing the woman who had inspired it. Had it become an idol? Maybe it was time to give it to Talia, let her sell it. Or give it to Brian to give to Shanice so she could give it to Grace. It only seemed right to give her the painting. She’d inspired it.
I’m still trying to find a way to get to her, aren’t I? I love her, Lord, but I was too much of a coward to tell her how much.
Brian assured him the pain would lessen with time. He needed to get his priorities straight. His life depended on God, not a woman.
Roman slid open the glass doors. Sunset in the canyon. Grace would have loved the western sky streaked with purple. Lighting the wood in the fire pit, he sat and watched the sun go down. He’d taken this view for granted, but Grace was right about it. The colors were never the same. God’s good night, she’d called it.
Stars appeared, one by one, until thousands scattered across the dark canvas. And I call myself an artist?
His cell phone rang—Brian. Roman answered. “Hey.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m better than I’ve been.” He could tell something was up by Brian’s tone. “Any other reason for the call?”
“I just got off the phone with Shanice. Grace left this afternoon.”
Roman felt the hard punch in his stomach. “Left for where?”
“Shanice said she headed north, and even Grace wasn’t sure where she’d end up. She wants Samuel to grow up somewhere other than Los Angeles.”
How far north did she intend to go? She could end up in Oregon or Washington. Alaska? Roman closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Roman.”
“Yeah.” He looked out over the canyon. “That’s life.”
“Why don’t you come on over to my place tomorrow. We can talk.” He gave Roman the Vermont Square address. “Call Uber. You can’t leave that fancy car of yours on my street. How about eleven?” He chuckled. “Or is that too early for an artist to be up?”
Roman stayed outside, his emotions spiraling down until he hit rock bottom. He couldn’t see any way up except one. Jesus, grab hold of me again. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself reaching up. He felt the weight beneath him, sucking him down in a vortex of grief.
And then the whisper came, a thought not his own filling his mind.
Let go of her and walk with Me. One step at a time. One day at a time.
Simple. Not easy.
Let her go and put your hope in Me.
Shivering with the encounter, Roman took his cell phone from his pocket. Hand shaking, he tapped Photos. He thumbed through the pictures of Grace he’d taken on the road trip. How many times had he done this over the last two weeks? If he couldn’t have Grace, he could at least look at these pictures and imagine what might have been.
Let go, God said.
One by one, Roman deleted the pictures. When he got to the last one, his thumb hovered. He remembered the moment he’d taken this shot. Grace had been standing on a high place above the Dardanelles. She’d looked back over her shoulder, beckoning him to follow. And he had. She’d been a girl in love with life, and maybe, for a few minutes at least, a woman in love with him. Better to remember her like this than the last time he saw her; tears running down her pale cheeks, eyes full of hurt and disillusionment. He could almost hear her voice. I love you, Roman.
A soft breeze whispered through the chaparral. I love you more.
He felt the warmth of that declaration, the deep yearning to get closer to the eternal One. He could, if he stopped hanging on to someone who didn’t belong to him and never had.
Roman filled his lungs with the cool night air and touched the screen softly.
Grace disappeared.
AUNT ELIZABETH OPENED THE FRONT DOOR. “Oh. I thought . . .” She looked ready to cry as she stepped back. “Never mind. Come in. Where’s your suitcase?”
“In the car. Along with a playpen and—”
“Let me take him while you bring in whatever you need.” She plucked Samuel out of Grace’s arms.
Astonished, Grace watched her aunt carry her son into the living room. She’d never held him before and had barely glanced at him the one time Grace brought him here.
Grace put the playpen and suitcase in her old bedroom and peered into the living room. Aunt Elizabeth had Samuel perched on her knees facing her. She was talking to him in a soft, affectionate voice as he flapped his arms like a happy bird.
“Thank you for keeping him occupied.” She reached for Samuel, but Aunt Elizabeth shifted him.