“I’d better move.” Grace took the rocking chair on the other side of the coffee table. Shifting Samuel in her arms, she settled more comfortably. “Are you heading back to Los Angeles this afternoon?”
“I’m staying in the same hotel you and I stayed in on our road trip.” He’d checked in before coming to see Grace. “It’ll serve as home base until I find a house.”
“A house? You want to move to Merced?”
Laughing, Roman shook his head. “I don’t know yet, but I didn’t just stop by on my way back to LA to say, ‘Hey, by the way, I’d like to marry you.’ I’m sticking around until you do.”
Samuel awakened again, groggy and grumpy this time. Grace stood. “He needs another hour, at least.”
Roman followed and stood in the doorway as she settled him. He grinned as he backed out so she could close the door. “A race car bed?”
“Gift from Dorothy and George. Aunt Elizabeth sleeps in it when she comes to visit.”
“Does that happen often?” She hadn’t moved, and the hall felt too small for the two of them. He glanced into the other bedroom with an inviting queen-size bed. He closed the door. Out of sight, out of mind. He hoped.
“She’s coming tomorrow to spend the weekend.”
“She’ll want my head on a platter.”
Grace looked back over her shoulder with a grin as she returned to the living room. “Actually, she’s been rooting for you.” She lifted his mug. “Your coffee’s cold.” She picked up hers as well. “We can sit in the kitchen and talk.” Pouring two mugs of fresh coffee, she set them on the table.
They sat facing each other. Roman imagined sitting together like this for decades to come. “Mmmm. I really have missed your coffee.”
“It’s a poor reason for wanting to marry a girl.”
“Just one of many good ones.” He looked at her for a moment, thankful she didn’t seem nervous about his perusal now. “I’ve missed you.” More than he could express, and far more than he’d thought possible. The old, niggling fear rose that even the best things in life don’t last forever. “Until death parts us” meant one of them would go before the other. He and Brian had talked about that. Each day was a blessing from God, to be lived to the fullest, without fear.
“Don’t buy a house yet, Roman.”
“I’ll rent until we decide what we want to do. Unless you want to move back to Southern California. How do you like it here?”
“I like it very much, but you’re a big-city boy.”
“Am I?” He’d grown up in the Tenderloin, bounced from youth hostel to hostel in Europe, had a Malibu beach condo and a fortress in Topanga Canyon. Now, he lived in a two-bedroom apartment in a rough neighborhood in LA, not a place he wanted to settle his wife and child. But then, what did he know? Where they would live was just one of the many things they’d have to work out together.
Roman stretched out his hand on the table, palm up. Grace let out a soft breath of surrender and slipped her hand into his. “I guess it doesn’t matter where we live, as long as we’re together.”
It would be easy to accept her surrender, let her give in, but Roman wanted Grace secure and content, as well as happy.
“It matters, Grace.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “We’ll wait for God to tell us where He wants us.”
TALIA’S LAGUNA ART GALLERY BUZZED with activity, patrons, journalists, and collectors viewing Roman’s work, as classical music played softly in the background. Waiters moved among the guests, offering champagne, sparkling cider, and hors d’oeuvres. Grace stood beside Roman as he answered questions about his art, marveling at the ease with which he moved conversation from his work to the work God had done in his life.
Talia had been on her A game, sending out engraved invitations to wealthy art patrons and collectors for the grand opening of Roman’s first show in over three years. Of course, Talia had widened her net through social media for the continuing show over the next two days. Roman’s paintings would all be sold by then, but would remain on the walls over the weekend so people could enjoy what would soon be hidden away in someone’s mansion. Advance orders for reproductions and signed prints would be available.
This was the second art show Grace had attended. What a difference from the first, when Roman had been edgy, angry, eager to take flight. His work had changed drastically, as well. He no longer attacked a line of canvases. He spent weeks making sketches and taking long walks with Samuel until the work came together in his mind. He painted one canvas at a time, each different in style—impressionist, fauvist, and one large, realist work Talia declared a masterpiece titled World Changers. Roman had even included several pieces of graffiti.