several moments. “No way Grace is doing drugs if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I would have never thought so.”
Darlene shook her head. “Nope. Not Grace.”
“Maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” Darlene twisted to face him. “What, Brad?”
“Skylar. Maybe she’s getting Grace into something that . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t know, Darlene. I mean, Skylar is kind of different.”
“She dresses differently, but I don’t think Skylar is a druggie. You can’t judge her by the way she dresses. And remember how sweet she was to give Grace that angel ring for her birthday?”
“Well then. Explain this.” He pushed the blades and straws toward her. “We’ve known plenty of parents who’ve dealt with their kids’ drug problems. And I think Chad played around with them for a while.”
Darlene didn’t like to think about Chad doing drugs, and he’d never admitted it, but both she and Brad had suspected it when they were in Houston. “Chad is with Cindy now, and she’s a good girl. He’s not into any of that.”
“I know. I’m just saying that he might have been at one time.”
“Maybe. But not Grace. She would never do that. I know my daughter, Brad.”
“Well, you haven’t been around much the past couple of weeks. Maybe it’s something new.”
Darlene’s mouth fell open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying that you haven’t been home much. Maybe Grace is starting to spend time with the wrong crowd.”
Darlene eased away from him, turned out her light, and rolled onto her side. “I will talk to her tomorrow, but I know that’s not it.” She was quiet for a few moments. “And it hurts my feelings that you would blame it on me.”
“Baby, no.” He turned out his light and snuggled close to her. “I’m not blaming anything on you. I’m just worried about Grace.”
“I will talk to her,” she said again. There was another explanation, and she’d find out tomorrow afternoon, after church and brunch.
They said good night, and Darlene rushed through her prayers, fearful she’d fall asleep before she finished, and she wanted to be sure to get in some extra prayers for Layla.
And Grace. Just in case.
Layla woke up Sunday morning with a rotten hangover, still dressed in her formal gown—and with her past life laid out all around her. She’d done this a hundred times before, dumping all the pictures out and crying until she couldn’t cry anymore. Pictures of Marissa, Tom, and the three of them together. Reminders of her past that she only faced when she’d had enough wine to temper the pain. Her retreat into a world of beautiful memories would always leave her feeling even more shattered and lost than before. And yet Darlene had wanted to talk to her about God?
She picked up a picture of Marissa, the one of her in her pink and white dress, her hair in a ponytail. They’d just gone to a friend’s wedding shower, and Marissa was glowing. “I can’t wait until I get married,” she’d said on the way home.
Layla swiped at a tear, wondering how there could possibly be any tears left.
She and Tom had managed to stay together for several months after Marissa’s death, but eventually they turned their grief into anger at one another. They’d been a threesome for so long that being with Tom was a constant reminder of what they’d lost, and she knew he felt the same way. He’d left on a Saturday. They’d spoken a few times, but each conversation ended in tears for both of them. Not only had she lost Marissa, she’d lost the only man she’d ever loved. He’d told her that he couldn’t help her until he could heal himself.
If there was a God, He had clearly looked down on her and decided that she’d been given too much. A great career. A wonderful husband. And a beautiful daughter. Maybe God wanted her to pay more attention to the many people around the world who were suffering in worse ways than she was. Or maybe He thought Layla wasn’t a good enough mother, wasn’t home enough, or put too much emphasis on her career. She’d turned it over in her mind a thousand times. And each time, her conclusion was the same. God was punishing her for something. She just wasn’t sure what.
She recalled all the times she’d knelt with Marissa beside her bed to say prayers. Marissa’d had a strong faith. Stronger than Layla’s. Why would God take her away at such a young age, such