A New Hope (Thunder Point #8)(75)

One of the most interesting developments was Winnie’s fascination with Charlie. They had formed an unusual friendship. They had lunch together almost every day and sometimes Charlie showed her TED Talks on his laptop, after which they would have a discussion. Not surprisingly, Winnie had become interested in some of the more spiritual and inspirational videos. She had watched the video of Jimmy Valvano’s last speech at the ESPY Awards several times until Charlie said, “You might have to start watching this in private from now on. It’s too sad.”

“You seem to be doing fine,” she said. “It’s inspiring.”

“Maybe if you’re dying.”

“Charlie!” Lin Su admonished.

“What?” Winnie said. “He’s right. It’s more meaningful to me for obvious reasons.” She looked at Charlie. “I haven’t noticed you crying or anything...”

“Of course I’m not crying,” he said. “It makes my throat hurt though. How about this TED Talk on the power of vulnerability? Sounds like the kind of thing you’d like.”

“But what would you like?”

“There’s one on the most important key to success—grit. And there’s one I like about a woman who survived a brain hemorrhage and had to rebuild her life, learning to talk and walk all over again.”

“When did you get so smart?” she asked him.

“When I couldn’t go outside. Or to school.”

“And when was that?”

“Before allergy shots, mostly. I was allergic to everything—grass, pollen, dust, animals, everything. Someone gave me a little computer and showed me how to look things up.”

“No Facebook,” Lin Su said. “The computer is for reading, learning, exploring, not for making jokes or picking on people.”

“I don’t think making jokes should be excluded,” Winnie said. “I don’t know this Facebook thing everyone talks about.”

“You might be too old,” Charlie said.

“Charlie!” his mother scolded. She shook her head. “I’m not going to be able to let you two hang out together if you’re just going to make trouble for me!”

“A computer was a good idea,” Winnie said.

Charlie was looking down the beach. A cyclist was riding down the beach road. He was bent low over his handlebars and was moving fast. He was sleek and muscular. “I’d rather have a bike,” he said, watching the rider.

The rider stopped right in front of the house next door, the house that was only recently finished except for the interior. He balanced on the bike without putting a foot down; he looked up.

Cooper appeared on the deck next door and waved at the cyclist.

The man dismounted, picked up his bike and jogged up two flights to the deck.

“What the hell?” Winnie said.

“Why didn’t he just lock it to the stair rail or something?” Lin Su said.

“Mom, I think he’s a pro. He’s wearing logos and Nike stuff. That bike probably cost a lot. Bet he sleeps with it.”

“He ran with it,” Winnie said.

“He’s an athlete,” Charlie said.

“And a show-off,” Lin Su said.

The man did leave the bike on the deck, however. He shook hands with Cooper, then they talked. Cooper was pointing, gesturing with his hand, explaining things. Then they went inside together.

“Hmm, interesting,” Winnie said. “New neighbor maybe?”

“That would be cool,” Charlie said. “Let’s look up that bike. I bet it’s worth a billion dollars.”

Seventeen

Ginger talked to Matt at least once every day, despite the tension they’d had while she was in Portland. He was with his father and a couple of brothers and as many cousins as could be rounded up at Sal’s vineyard to deal with harvesting early grapes. He could have ridden with Paco and George but he drove himself so he could spend one night with her before going home. He was so tired, she could hear it in his voice. This was the hardest yet most fulfilling time of year.

She tried to imagine being his wife through weeks like this. Not surprisingly, she could, and she saw it as a very satisfying job. What a monumental achievement it must be to bring in a year’s worth of healthy crops, do it with your own hands, with your family’s support. She not only envied him, she longed to be a part of it. Every night after talking to him she prayed he would resolve his issues soon so they could work together, so they could be together.

And then there was Mick. She called him from Grace’s cell phone—a blocked number. “My mother delivered a message that you need to speak to me.”

“Ginger. I do. Where are you?”

“I’m not in Portland, Mick, and we’re divorced so there’s no need for you to have a phone number or an address. What’s the emergency?”

His voice was kind of weak. It even cracked. “I really have to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll go wherever you are.”

“Mick, just tell me what you need. I probably can’t help you anyway...”

“Ginger, I had the worst news I’ve ever had and you’re the only person who could ever make sense of things for me.”

That certainly wasn’t part of her memory. “Are you sick?”