Brian rescued him. “They’ve been warned. It’s all written in black-and-white. Most people like believing they can be good enough to get in the gate. Truth is, none of us are. Jesus holds the key.”
“That’s the party line.”
Brian leaned forward, hands loose around his fresh cup of coffee. “Before you go, can I ask you a question?”
“I grew up in a ‘Christian’ home.” Martin’s face hardened. “I’ve seen religion firsthand.”
Roman watched, amazed at how easily Brian could get people to talk. Maybe it was the way he listened, full of compassion without judgment or condemnation. Turned out Martin was from a hardworking, middle-class Christian family, but not the loving kind Brian had. Tuck’s father had been controlling and intolerant of anyone who didn’t share his views.
“He made sure I was sitting in the pew every Sunday. In suit and tie.” He shrugged. “Haven’t worn a tie since I left home.”
“How’s your relationship with your father now?”
Tuck shook his head. “He’s the same, just older and tired. He mellowed once Mom died. Still goes to church. My sisters and their families go, too. I love my father, but we disagree on just about everything. I see him once a year, and we stick to safe topics.” He gave a bleak laugh. “Fishing. That’s about it.”
Brian, a fisher of men, told him there was a big difference between religion and faith.
Tuck Martin’s phone rang. Apologizing, he checked the display. “Forgot the time. Gotta run.” Roman and Brian stood. Tuck shook hands with both and thanked them for their time. He looked at Roman. “Working on anything else?”
“Nothing I plan to show or sell.” Roman felt Brian’s glance. They were best friends, but that didn’t mean he had to tell Brian everything.
Tuck shouldered his pack. “I’ve done more talking this morning than both of you put together.”
Brian smiled. “Maybe you needed to.” He took out a card and handed it to him. “Anytime.”
Brian tapped on Roman’s door that evening. “Thought you might be up.”
Roman went back to the sofa, stretched out his legs, and put his feet on the coffee table. He turned off the basketball game. “How’d the board meeting go?”
“Long. Like the day. I’m exhausted.” He stood in the living room.
Roman knew something was on his mind. “So, what’re you doing here? Sit down or go home and get some sleep.”
“I won’t be able to sleep until my curiosity is satisfied.” He tipped his head. “I’d like to see what you’re working on.”
“It’s not finished.”
“I’m not a critic.”
Roman shrugged, and they went into the second bedroom. Sketches littered the drawing board. A large canvas sat on an easel. Brian had to move to the other side of the room to see it. “Oh, my.” He spoke softly, in reverence. “She’s beautiful.”
“I could use more light.” Roman felt edgy, exposed. “This would’ve been better done at the place in Topanga Canyon.” And with the right model. He joined Brian and studied the painting with a critical eye.
A young woman, advanced in pregnancy, wearing Judean clothing, stood with one hand spread over the top of her swollen belly, the other cupping beneath as though holding the unborn child in tender embrace. Her expression revealed wonder and fear.
“What do you call it?”
“The Indwelling.”
“She looks like Grace.”
Roman’s heart leaped, but he didn’t say anything. He’d been praying just before Brian knocked on the door. If God wanted him to search for Grace, three people had to bring her up without any encouragement from him. And now, here was Brian, a few minutes later, doing exactly that.
Number one.
Roman was afraid to hope. Hope hurt.
Brian frowned. “You haven’t mentioned her in months.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“You still love her.”
“Leave it alone, Brian.” Roman went into the living room and turned the basketball game back on. Brian sat in the easy chair as though he intended to stay awhile. Roman gave him a mocking smile. “I thought you were tired.”
“I can get her address from Shanice, if you want it.”
Temptation rose quickly. He caught himself before he gave in. “It’s better if I don’t know.” If he knew where she was, he might not be able to wait for God’s timing.