I have tried and tried to get the below text in a book I'm working to go
into black on white and can't get it to save my life. Any ideas?
Chapter 12
You certainly are quiet," Carlos said, as he drove Cassidy home from his
mother's house.
"I'm tired," she replied, stretching neck muscles.
"I think my mother upset you." He switched off the radio station and the
sound of a lively Christian song faded to silence.
"She didn't say a thing, Carlos." She stared out at the window ahead. "We
need to face the truth. I'm not what your mother wants for you. She wants a
Latino, not a blue-eyed blond."
He sighed and reached across to take her hand. "How about what God wants?
What you and I want?"
In the shadows, she turned her gaze to his. "I care too much to have your
family ostracize you on account of me."
"They won't, believe me. Mother is simply unwilling to let go of her baby
boy; she needs a little time." When Cassidy failed to comment, he added,
"Has God told you we aren't supposed to be together?"
"No," she said, staring at the road ahead.
He pulled the truck off onto the grass. "Let's pray about this. God knows
our hearts, and I hate the thought of you being upset."
She released her seat belt and slid over beside him. Gathering up her hands
he prayed for guidance and a softening of his mother's heart.
Cassidy cried softly, and the sound of her weeping tugged at his heart. This
mess with his mother had tom him apart, too. He'd seen Cassidy's compassion
for others and how she gave of herself to so many people. In spending time
together, they'd visited sick church members, baby-sat Jack and Kristi's
son, researched more about the John F. Kennedy School of Government, and
cleaned out horse stalls. Every moment he spent with her confirmed his
growing love. He had no idea how God planned to work out the months ahead
while they explored each other's personalities, but he did know he didn't
want to think of another day without her. One thing was certain: His
organized, meticulous lifestyle had been tossed into the wind.
"Don't cry. God will work this out," he said, brushing her damp cheeks with
his finger.
She leaned against his shoulder. "It's not just tonight, Carlos. I'm afraid
I'm not good for you at all."
<3^
On Sunday morning during the music prelude, Cassidy reflected on Friday's
299
