A Romantic Christian Novel about choices.
http://www.amazon.com/All-About-Grace-June-Belfie-ebook/dp/B00HRWYXRK/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421795471&sr=1-1&keywords=all+about+grace
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/june-bryan-belfie?store=book&keyword=june+bryan+belfie
Celia, a law student in Philadelphia
For your reading pleasure I've included part of the first chapter:
Chapter One
I have no idea
who my father was. Neither does the woman who gave birth to me. It doesn't
matter. Not really.
Right now I'm
headed for my Yoga session and I really need to relax. After studying for a
whole week and taking my exams, I can feel the stress messing up my neck and
shoulders. Couldn't even sleep last night. Of all times
to run out of booze. Just as well.
I promised myself I was done drinking, and I mean it this time. I simply don't
need it. I warned Mo (that's for Mohammad) not to bring it in anymore. The jerk
laughed, but then he saw I was serious and cut the humor. I even warned him to
get a job or get out. It's hard enough supporting myself on a part-time job,
let alone putting up with a guy. Okay, so sometimes he breaks down and buys a
few groceries. Big deal. He eats like a horse, when he's not too high. Which
isn't often. I thought Muslims didn't drink, but then I think he only changed
his name to be cool. I've never seen him pray. Never.
I reach the
neighborhood where I take my Yoga class and park a block away. Figure it won't
kill me to walk that far, even though it's freezing. Might work out the kinks.
One good thing about living in Philadelphia
After I lock the
car I catch up with my friend, Jasmine. I'm envious of that girl--she's got
guys clambering after her. Her father works for the State Department. I have no
idea what he does. Neither does she, but she says it's important. "So where
were you last week?"
"Amsterdam
"Rough
job."
"Honestly,
Celia, it's getting tough making it through airports and all."
"Yeah. I'm
sure they give you the third degree. As if you looked like a terrorist."
"Well I do
have long black hair and--"
I roll my eyes
at her. "You know you're way gorgeous. No one would mistake you for a bad
guy. A movie star, maybe. Hey, I finished up my exams today."
We head to the
changing room and put on our exercise clothes. Mine are getting pretty beat,
but I don't have the cash for new ones. Guess I'll check out the Salvation Army
next week.
Jasmine twists
her long black hair into a weird configuration and tucks it under a couple of
clips. "How do you think they went? The exams. Will you pass?"
"I hope so.
Actually, they weren't bad. So far I've got A's
in all my classes except one."
"Which one
is that?"
"Music
appreciation. I took it as an elective. Didn't need it for my law degree, but
thought it would be fun and easy."
"You should
be good in that course since you play guitar," she says as we head into
the class.
The six regulars
are already stretching and gabbing. They're older than we are and we never pay
much attention to them. Especially after that dog, Roseanne, or some name like
that, made a remark about my tattoo. It's just a rose, for crying out loud.
I continue my conversation
with Jasmine as we get on the mats and stretch our legs. "I know. I
thought it would be a breeze, but I had to diagram symphonies and stuff."
"Never
heard of that. Thought diagramming sentences was hard. I can't imagine putting
music through that."
"It's not
quite the same, but it's hard. What's new with the guys? Any one steady yet?"
"Maybe.
I've been seeing a lot of Zach--the guy who owns the sporting goods
store."
"Ladies,
it's time to stop all the gossip and begin to relax. Let's get into the Lotus
position and breathe deeply."
Silence takes
over and we all obey our teacher, though I don't think she knows much more than
we do at this point. Maybe I'll teach the class myself someday.
An hour later we
leave and I decide to stop at the store for some veggies. I'm on a constant
diet, which I figure I'll be on for the rest of my life. Fat runs in the
family at least on my mother's side.
That's according to her, but I've never met anyone else related to me besides
Mom's sister, Aunt Felicia, and she's so skinny it's scary. She stays indoors
on windy days. Honest.
This time I
wasn't lucky enough to get near the entrance. I have to park at the far end of
the parking lot here at Walmart and it's beginning to snow. It shouldn't take
long to buy fruit and veggies and pick up soy milk.
Wouldn't you
know it? That cool Mr. Perfect from one of my law classes is buying bananas.
Maybe he won't see me--
"Celia, I
thought that was you," he begins with a huge smile. Alright, I have to
admit, he is fabulous to look at. He could be the leading man in a movie. But
he's so…so what? Uptight. That's it.
"The very
one. Those bananas are way too ripe. You'll be throwing them out in two
days." I pick up greener ones and hand them over. He looks confused, poor
thing. For someone as brilliant as he is in class, you'd think he'd know how to
buy bananas.
"Thanks.
What about grapefruit?"
"What about
them?"
"What do I
look for when I buy them?"
"Are you
planning to?" I have to hold back a laugh. I mean, really.
"Guess I'll
skip them. I don't really like grapefruit that much. How do you think you did
on the exam?"
"Aced
it."
"Seriously?"
"Well, of
course I'm not certain, but it seemed easy enough." I reach for some
escarole and a package of carrots. I'm thinking maybe he'll take a hint and go
away, but then on second thought, do I really want him to? I have to admit, he
is quite the handsome dude.
"Look, it's
snowing harder now," he says looking out the glass doors. "It nice to
look at, but I hate driving in it. Guess I shouldn't complain, after all it is
December. Want to have a cup of coffee till it slows down?"
"I barely
have enough cash for my groceries."
"I'll
treat."
I let out a long
sigh in order to look totally indifferent, though I can feel my heart skipping
beats. "In that case."
"Good. We can
go into McDonald's here and leave our carts till we're ready to check
out."
We wheel the
carts over and find a small table for two. "Can I get a snack?" I think that's a trifle bold - even for me,
but why not?
"Anything.
You want a burger?"
"Maybe fries.
Large."
Why is he grinning at me? What did I say?
"I'll be
right back. Don't go away."
Like I would when free food is on its way.
While he orders,
I quickly add a touch of lipstick and smooth down my hair. It's the first time
we've talked more than a few sentences. I hope I don't goof up.
A toddler's
piercing shriek comes from the next table. Why doesn't that mother clobber her
brat? Look at the way he smears the ketchup all over the table. Gross. When I
have kids… I doubt I ever will, since I never liked them much. Now the kid's
punching his sister. I thought about offering her a piece of advice but Al's
heading back to the table, so she's on her own.
"That was
fast service," I say, smiling.
"Here I
bought us each a milkshake to go with the fries."
"What
flavor?"
"Chocolate.
Is that okay?"
"Guess it
has to be." I love chocolate.
"I can
drink them both and get you--"
"No. That's
fine, but I need two straws. It's way too thick for one."
After adding a
second straw from the counter next to the table, he sits down across from me.
Oh, good grief, is he going to pray or something? He has his head down. After
all, it's just a snack. He looks up. Whew! Guess he just had his eyes closed.
"Sooo, what's your last name, Al? I should probably remember, but…"
"The whole
name is a moniker and a half. Ready?"
I shake my head.
I mean - how bad can it be?
"Vernon
Alexander Elliott, the third."
Bad. "You sound like a pompous
politician."
"Unfortunately,
I didn't have much say in the matter."
"I guess
that's why they call you Al."
His smile is
disarming. I don't have a chance with this gorgeous creature so why the
shivers. He is way out of my league.
"And you?
Is Celia your real name?"
"No, just a
nickname. My real name is Ravenna Ravenna
Somehow, it's kinda
weird-sounding in front of Al.
"Ravenna
"My mother
named me that because she figured I was conceived in Ravenna
-- Italy
"Interesting."
"It sure
beats Roma, don't you think?"
I love his laugh.
It's so…so deep and real.
"So you're
Italian?"
"Half. The
other half is Swedish."
"That
accounts for your fair skin and green eyes, I guess. It's a nice contrast to
your black hair."
"Have you
applied to a law firm yet?" I ask hoping he won't get into my family
stuff. The compliment stuff is fine, though.
"Yeah. I've
been accepted at Fontaine & Fontaine in Philadelphia
"I've sent
out a few letters, but nothing yet. Of course, I still have three semesters to
go. You're graduating this spring, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm
glad to say. Do you have a job for next summer?" he asks.
I slurp the last
of the milkshake and look up to see him grinning again. "Not yet. I've
applied for interning at a couple law firms here in Philly, but haven't
heard."
"Maybe I
can help you out. I worked at F. & F. last summer as an intern. They
usually take on several every summer. Want me to put in a good word for
you?"
"You'd do
that? I'm practically a stranger."
"Not
really. I've been watching you. You're a real bright student. I think you'll go
places."
