A New Hope (Thunder Point #8)(45)

“I’m sure she loved having you.”

“I’m sure she’ll love having time with Al more. But no worries, I’m sure I’ll see Ray Anne every day.”

As she was walking back through town to Ray Anne’s she thought about her new life. That was easy. I am not going to be lonely; I am not pining over some man who wants me one minute, can’t remember my phone number the next. I’m a whole person. I have a great job, a super loft to live in, good friends, a little family nearby...

But she gave him forty-eight hours to remember he had kissed her passionately and promised to call. Forty-eight hours to get a text, a message, a call.

Then she’d changed her cell phone number.

* * *

“How do you like that little space upstairs?” Grace asked Ginger.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she said. “My mother is sending a couple of boxes of things—my favorite books, DVDs, stuff I wouldn’t have thought to bring since I was only staying a couple of weeks. The last time I was home I went through my closet and brought all the clothes that still fit me. And there are a few boxes in my closet, things packed up from my rental house when I moved out. I worked in housewares and in bridal registries—I have some of the prettiest wineglasses, earthenware, sheets and towels, and small items that there will be plenty of room for.”

“I’ve always used the cooler to refrigerate things I didn’t have room for in that little fridge,” Grace said.

“I’ve already figured that out,” she said. “Poor Ray Anne, she didn’t know whether to jump for joy or cry when I told her I had my own place. I’ve had to reassure her that we’re still close, we can get together for dinner, for a glass of wine, for girls’ night...”

Grace wandered over to the front window and looked out.

“I think she’s convinced this will be better in the long run. She needs personal space and I need to not hide in the bedroom with the door closed when Al is on the property,” she said with a laugh.

Grace turned from the window. She wore a melancholy expression. “Mikhail,” she said. “He’s taken to long walks while Winnie is having her morning washing and primping rituals and again in the afternoon while she’s taking her nap. But he gets her breakfast, makes sure she has lunch and, although he doesn’t think I know this, he sleeps in the chair in her bedroom at night.”

“Ohhh,” Ginger said. “That is so sweet.”

“I had no idea how devoted he is to my mother.”

“Are they in love?”

“I don’t think so, not the love we’d identify with. I don’t know if they’re like best friends, brother and sister or an aging couple. I think Mikhail is grateful to Winnie for all the years they were a team, while I was in training. He became like a father to me after my own father died. And of course, he took direction from Winnie, who had hired him. And Winnie took direction from Mikhail, who had great training instincts. I think he’s going to hang in there till the end. I don’t want him to be lonely.”

“And when you say ‘the end’?”

“No one knows. There are odds—most people don’t live many years after they’re diagnosed and Winnie was diagnosed a few years ago. On the other hand, there are cases of people who live many years.”

“How is she feeling?” Ginger asked.

“She feels pretty good. If it weren’t for weakness, trembling and fatigue, you’d never know. Her mind—sharp as a tack.” She chuckled. “They sure can throw the gibes back and forth, Winnie and Mikhail. They bicker like an old married couple.”

“You have so much to deal with,” Ginger said. “You’re very strong.”

“We all have so much to deal with,” Grace said. “Haven’t you figured this out yet? No one has it easy. I always thought the pressure I had on the circuit was the most extraordinary pressure in the world and no one would ever understand. Then I met others who had challenges entirely different from mine and even more difficult. Then I met you. You’re one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. And the most loving and giving.”

“Aw,” she said, blushing. Maybe a little too loving and giving sometimes, she thought.

“I’ve been meaning to ask—I heard a rumor that Matt Lacoumette showed up Saturday night.”

“True,” she said, busying herself with some receipts on the counter. “I ran into him on my way home from the wedding.”

“And?” Grace asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“And what?” Ginger asked.

“Did you spend any time with him?”

“A little bit,” she said. “In fact, we drove up the coast a few miles to a lookout where a lot of people enjoyed the sunset. It was beautiful. I have a picture,” she said, taking out her cell phone and flipping through some pictures. There were lots of pictures of floral arrangements she’d created and then—two pictures of the sunset, texted from Matt’s phone. And one selfie—Matt’s arm around her, both of them smiling into the camera.

“Well now,” Grace said. “There’s a happy couple.”

“Just friends,” she said.

“But you’ve spent a lot of time on the phone, right? And you went to see him at the farm?”