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• The Work of Grace   *45* Fine Points of Grace

  *Rob*It's agonizing for me, but Margie decides to wait until after Dan and Ella return from their honeymoon before dropping by the farmhouse one blustery January day.As seems to always be her way, she arrives with a labeled storage box of the township's newspaper history that Dan carries for her while I help the aged woman up the veranda stairs to the door."Oh, well now," she says pleasantly, taking a seat on the sofa near Grace. "No wonder you're keeping to yourself and looking so content here. Rob's got you a nice fire built and the house toasty warm. Good for him."Grace flashes that gorgeous smile of hers, all the more beautiful because she carrying my children, tugging her lap blanket up over her rounded belly, and I frown. "Do you need another blanket, Grace? Are you warm enough?"Rolling her big ocean blue eyes, she

• The Work of Grace   *44* After-effects **trigger warning- multiple intense themes**

  *Sam*The Nazis were responsible for many—innumerable—war crimes, many of which it was, unfortunately, my job to observe and secretly report to the Allies, before finally receiving orders to sabotage. Some of that was because available communications were not what they are now, but in part, it was because there was so—much.That I didn’t learn of research experiments, couldn’t stop them long before I was clearly commanded to, dogs my every day and will until the last one God gives me, and I’ve spent a great many of them trying to drown those memories in booze, exercise and work, prayer and loving care for Juliet and Julia, trying to attone for it.Having Juliet as an unwavering conscience is of small solace as I prepare the cold cellar around Junior—move visual distractions outside the close circle of light he’ll have over him,

• The Work of Grace   *43* Interlopers

  *Juliet*With a contented sigh, I collapse against Sam’s chest, sweating despite the cold, heaving oxygen into my lungs.“I love you.” Sam’s panting whisper sounds as sapped as I feel, but pleasantly so, and his arms slide from where he held my thighs, over my back to cradle me against him. “I love you.”“I love you, Sam.”Time drifts in an exhausted haze, warm welcoming sleep wrapping its cloak of peace around us both, bidding us rest. Still kneeling on top of him, I relax heavily, his arms relaxing heavily over me in return. Every part of me still tingles faintly, absolutely satiated with the love we’ve made.Downstairs, the mantle clock chimes faintly, once—the half hour—though I have no idea which half hour that is and care even less.

• The Work of Grace   *42* Unknown

  *Junior*I had no idea where I was going when I ran off after the trainman yelled at me. And frankly, I’m not all that certain I knew where I was anymore. I don’t remember even seeing Father Brennan’s house. Or the church. And I didn’t run through the cemetery or see the train tracks or the shops along Main Street. My head wasn’t particularly clear.

• The Work of Grace   *41* White-out

  *Juliet*A gust of wind picks up my braid and sets my skirts clinging to my legs as Sam and I follow Julia and Ajax to the truck across the front lawn’s yellowed grass. Overhead, it drags at the last few dried leaves clinging to the bare maple branches, rustling them ominously. “Wind’s picked up,” I mention mildly.“And shifted direction,” Sam adds. “Julia, you’re too little for that. Wait for Mommy or me to open the door.” He jogs ahead and scooping our wayward daughter up around her middle with one arm, tucks her into a giggling squirming football carry, swinging her just a little wildly out of the way just so he can get a thrilled squeal out of her as he opens the driver's side door.Righting her on her small feet, he gives her a light smack on the bottom. “Now, you can get in. Ajax.” With a graceful bound,

• The Work of Grace   *40* Distractions

  *Juliet*Yawning quietly, I snuggle under the covers against Sam’s broad warm back a few minutes longer, watching with disappointment as the creeping sunrise brightens our bedroom. The mere fact that he’s still asleep after dawn and after me, tells me more than I know he wants about how he felt going to bed last night. It was sign enough he blocked the stairs to keep Ajax upstairs with us, but when he went back down for his second pistol he usually keeps downstairs, it was a sure tell he was considerably worried. We'll both be chasing a nap later this afternoon.Catching the rancid musky odor was enough to relax me. I’m confident at this point it was some sort of stray animal that made its way along the house while we were at Stew and Alice’s to watch the Christmas specials, and I feel bad that Sam didn’t rest well over something as common out here as that.