All Chapters of The Work of Grace: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

*Sam* To say that was a daunting conversation with Andrew James is an understatement. He’s a fine man, certainly, but fierce, determined, with an unstoppable drive to achieve. Which is intimidating to say the least as a man but reassuring as Juliet’s husband— he's nowhere near her type, if I'm a fair judge. Despite the obvious—flexibility, lacking a better term—I’ve seen in my brief and sickening introduction to the people from Juliet’s former high-society existenence, Mr. James is very much and very happily married, and while he may or may not be a decent friend to my wife, has no more designs upon her than in a friendly capacity, much to my relief. In fact, he’s as determined to see I’m restored to her good graces as I am. Thankfully. Unfortunately, beyond reminding me what I already know about Juliet, he can’t help me undo all the egregious mistakes I’ve managed to make in a single day and night of blind stupidity beyond escort her safely from the ladies' salon to our stateroom.

*Juliet*“Did I hear a knock at the—oh!”Hurriedly emerging from our state room’s bathroom in the morning to keep someone from waking Sam, I find my efforts in vain discovering him reading through a hand-delivered note as he slowly crosses the antechamber. He’s dressed only in his sleep pants, his hair tousled and his head down as he skims the words on the page, and though we’ve been together for over a decade now, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve seen.As his eyes slip over the words on the paper, mine rove this broad muscular chest and shoulders appreciatively, creep along at the hard lines of his midriff to where they narrow at his waist. I was doing something. I remember that much. But there’s no telling what that was now because the sight of my muscly and perfectly chiseled husband, sleep-disheveled and half-nak

*Sam*The Isle Royale tosses fitfully on the rough waters long after I soothe Juliet into an exhausted sleep.Alert to the subtlest changes in the steamer and the violent squall outside us, I lay awake the next several hours listening to the high hum of the engines at full. Against this storm, even this early in the season, I don’t anticipate much chance of survival were the Isle Royale to go down—I don’t even anticipate much opportunity to try—but if there is one, I’m ensuring Juliet gets it. God knows I’ve seen people survive worse and compassionate though she is, she’s a fighter.Into the soupy blackness pierced at intervals by the ship’s great spotlight sweeping about it in a circle, the whistle continues to sound regularly, accompanied by the random calls of sailors—“Ice floe to starboard!”— and fro

*Sam*It’s frigid in the bathroom when I wake later, even with the steamer’s heating blowing with a soft whooshing through the vents. Beneath me, Juliet’s still fast asleep, mostly sheltered from the worst of the chill by my body and the thick pile of towels underneath us. I watch her for a peaceful moment, the relaxed line of her lush full mouth, the rise and fall of her chest, the gorgeous tumble of raven hair about her head.A single bright sterling strand peeks from among the silken darkness surrounding it—it’s the first gray hair I’ve seen on her head. Given our ages, it’s not a surprise in any capacity beyond I wonder what took it so long. I’ve been going gray since my late twenties.I blame Julia, even though she’s only four.With my entire body, not just the part directly impacted, I objec

*Juliet*Though it had come early with the whiteout squall Sam and I’d had on the Isle Royale, the winter started out like any other. Children and adults alike brought their snow gear out of the cedar chests and armoirs and prepared to salt the streets and sidewalks.Driving was a bit more treacherous, but we’re used to this inconvenience, and with Julia still at home another year before kindergarten, Sam and I had only rare occasion to leave home anyway, weekly for mass and once a month for groceries and pantry staples. And it wouldn’t be the winter season without a few cold-weather aggravations as far as we were concerned. True to his word, with nothing else to do on the farm, Sam tore our bathroom apart and built a fine vanity with double sinks and a GE Textolite countertop. He made a special trip to the city and brought home and installed shining