Without Faith Read Free Page B

stuffing his video game into the small duffel bag that had been sitting next to the sofa.
    â€œIt’s my carry-on,” Roman mumbled as he zipped it up loudly.
    Leon shook his head and looked back at me. “Your son has enough luggage to clothe a small village. The baggage fees alone are going to eat up all the spending money he’s been saving up from that little part-time job he has. Skee-Gee and Tridell could barely fit in the car.”
    â€œGotta look good for the Native American ladies.” Roman patted one of his biceps. In addition to mentoring, Leon had Roman and Skee-Gee on a health and fitness kick. The baby fat that had lined my son’s body for years had given way to a solid, sculpted frame thanks to his regular workouts on Leon’s equipment.
    It was scary watching my son grow up.
    He looked more and more like his father.
    â€œWell, I guess we’re ready to go.” I grabbed my purse and keys. Leon and Roman looked at each other, then looked at me.
    â€œSienna, honestly, with the amount of luggage from these three young men—especially your son—there’s not enough room in the car for you to come. I know this is a hard moment for you, but you might need to get your good-byes in right now.”
    â€œMa, I’m in good hands,” Roman quickly added before my face completely collapsed. This was not how I imagined this trip would begin.
    â€œBut this is Roman’s first time going on an airplane,” I lied, ignoring the guilt and searing pain that came with the memory of flying across the country with him as a newborn, chasing down his father, my husband, in Southern California.
    The last time either one of us saw him face-to-face.
    â€œMa, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” A dark glimmer, which I imagined matched my own, washed over his face. I guess I was embarrassing him.
    â€œOkay, big boy. Be good out there. I love you.” I reached to hug him, and he kissed my forehead.
    That was another thing about him being sixteen. He’d grown a full head taller than me.
    â€œLove you too, Ma,” he threw back at me as he bounded down the steps after Leon.
    I watched as the two traded jokes and barbs all the way to Leon’s Altima, mostly about how much stuff Roman was bringing.
    â€œBye, Aunt See.” Skee-Gee rolled down a back window and yelled from it. I could see Tridell Jenkins sitting next to him, checking the waves in his hair in a small hand-held mirror. He glanced over at me and offered a single nod.
    As the engine roared to life, foot-stomping, body-swaying, spirit-moving music blared from Leon’s stereo, the latest from Tye Tribbett. Leon looked back at me from his seat at the wheel and gave me a reassuring wink. I tried to smile back, but was unprepared for the wellspring of emotions that were running through me. I missed my son already. He’d never been gone this long from me.
    Roman finished adjusting some bags in the trunk and then walked to the passenger side door. Just before he disappeared into the luggage-stuffed interior, he looked back up at me.
    â€œBye, Ma,” he mouthed.
    And then they were gone.

Chapter 3
    I could not remember the last time I’d had an afternoon to myself at home. I had been working so hard to stay afloat that the idea of a few hours of free time felt foreign to me. Sitting in the family room of the new townhome I’d bought right after Ava announced her retirement nearly two years ago, I realized that I’d had rare moments to actually enjoy the home that had been the symbol of my disconnection from all things RiChard St. James.
    I lived in my small rancher in Woodlawn for nearly fourteen years, wishing, waiting, hoping, praying for my husband to call, to mail a letter, something, anything. And he sent just enough to keep me imprisoned in that rancher, afraid to move, afraid to leave, afraid of missing his sporadic communication. I’d told myself for years that it