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The Masterpiece(47)

Author:Francine Rivers

“Six years.”

“That’s not very long when you love someone as much as you clearly loved your wife.”

“No. Not nearly long enough. How about you? Any serious relationships?”

Grace sighed inwardly. Just tell the truth. “I’m sorry. I guess my friends left out a few pertinent facts in the profile they created. I’m divorced, and I have a child.” When Brian didn’t say anything, she figured this one date would be the end of what might have been a promising relationship.

“I’m listening.”

She looked up in surprise. How much do you tell someone on a first date? Her story was bleak and embarrassing, enough to expose her stupidity and stubborn foolishness.

“Patrick was a high school football star struggling with algebra, and his coach said I’d make a good tutor. Patrick received better than a passing grade and asked me to the prom. I think that was his way of paying me.” She winced. “That sounds terrible.”

“Is it true?”

“I don’t know. I’d rather believe he liked me as much as I liked him, but my aunt didn’t think so.” And Aunt Elizabeth was always right about everything. Why hadn’t Grace seen the warning signs?

“What about your parents?”

Grace felt Brian studying her. She had to say something. “My parents died when I was seven.” She didn’t want to talk about the circumstances. “My aunt raised me.” Another topic she didn’t want to discuss. Aunt Elizabeth had taken Grace into her home out of familial duty, not love. Grace had never met her mother’s sister before that. Grace was taken into child protective services the night her parents died and had been placed in foster care until Aunt Elizabeth turned up. In truth, as Grace learned later, her aunt had taken the job at the IRS in order to be as far away from Grace’s mother and father as possible. “My friends called me a brainiac, and Patrick was all about sports. And he loved adventure.” And other women.

“So how did you two end up together?”

“We both went to UCLA. He had a partial football scholarship.”

“And you?”

She didn’t want to brag. “Enough to get me through, but Patrick needed to finish school first.” She smoothed the napkin on her lap, avoiding Brian’s perusal. “We got married partway through freshman year. When he lost his scholarship, it made sense for me to work, so he could concentrate on school.” She gave him a bleak smile. “We were going to take turns.” She lifted one shoulder. “A few months after he graduated, I came home early and found Patrick in bed with another girl. He said he loved her, packed up, and left.”

Brian winced. “Painful.”

Not as painful as it should have been. She’d been hurt, angry, and most telling, relieved. Their last year together had been difficult. She’d seen the truth. “I hated myself more than Patrick. I saw plenty of warning signs, but chose to ignore them. I tried to make it work. What is the old saying about fools rushing in?”

“And you have a child.”

Grace hesitated, understanding the assumption Brian was making. She wasn’t ready to confess more sins. “Yes. A son. Samuel. He’s five months old and the love of my life.” Had he noticed her blush? Brian seemed to sense something, but didn’t press.

“Charlene and I wanted children. That’s how I ended up in youth ministry. I love kids.” A good sign, Grace thought, then admonished herself. Brian talked about the program he’d started and ways he was trying to get the older and younger generations together. He joked about how too many people thought teenagers were out of control, beyond redemption, and to be avoided at all cost. He laughed. “Nothing’s changed. Plato bemoaned the younger generation.” He admitted teens could be perplexing and frustrating, especially the girls.

Grace didn’t have to wonder why. “I can imagine how many develop crushes on you.” A handsome, charismatic, young widower? “You’d better be careful, Pastor Brian.”

“Believe me, I am careful. I make sure I’m never alone with a girl, and I have plenty of adult supervision at our youth functions. A pastor can’t be too careful these days. It doesn’t take much to destroy a man’s reputation.”

Or a woman’s.

They talked over prime rib dinners. Grace ordered crème br?lée. Brian had warm chocolate fantasy cake. They lingered over coffee. Grace couldn’t remember ever having felt so comfortable with a man. Brian slipped the gift certificate and a twenty-dollar bill into the leather folder for the waiter.

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