One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(57)

Troy noticed that Grace began to tremble a little. She must feel so vulnerable in front of her mother.

“Please come inside, Izzy,” she said. “I’ll arrange for that to be cleaned up.”

“What are you doing here? Why?”

“I need to see you. Talk to you. You can send your helper away. I’ll make sure you have transportation.”

“He’s not my helper! He’s my boyfriend! What the hell is this? Why didn’t you call me, tell me you were in the area?”

“Because you wouldn’t have seen me,” she said.

“Precisely. Because I am dead to you, remember?”

“Look, I take it back. I take it all back. Izzy, you have to give this a chance. I only want to help you!”

“Fine. You’d be helping by acting like a normal mother. That means you communicate. You call and ask if I’m available to visit with you. And if this is about returning to professional skating, there’s no need to waste your time.”

“I only want what’s best for you. I want you settled! Let me help.”

“I am settled!”

“Working in a flower shop!”

“My flower shop, my business, that I built on my own!”

Grace stooped and began to pick up the flowers, sans ceramic dish. She stood, holding most of the arrangement, and kicked the broken pieces off the walk and into the bushes. “Where do you want this?”

“The patio?” Winnie said, standing aside.

Grace walked in and Troy followed her. Winnie tried to stop him by holding out her hands for the flowers he carried. “I’ll take that,” she said.

He ignored her and put them down on the first available surface, the small breakfast table.

A woman stood near the patio doors. She was around fifty, very short reddish-brown hair, casually dressed in slacks and a sweater.

“Thank you, Virginia, you can go back to what you were doing. And you can leave us, young man. This business is between me and my daughter.”

“I’m not leaving,” he said.

“Just tell me what you want, Mother,” Grace said when she came back from the patio.

“I’m not comfortable talking in front of a stranger.”

“Oh, forgive me, Winnie,” Grace said. “This is my boyfriend, Troy Headly. He came with me to help me deliver these bogus flowers. You might as well spit it out because I’m going to tell him everything we say to each other anyway.”

Winnie sank into the nearest chair. “I thought we could have a conversation.” She appeared to be near tears. “You’re all I have left.”

“That isn’t my fault. I’m done skating, I haven’t changed my mind about that.”

“There are other options. I get emails and calls all the time. You could report on the competitions. CBS or ESPN would take you to the Games! You could coach! You could consult! Hell, the committee would be thrilled to have you! There are so many things...”

“No,” she said. “No, no, no. I’m done. I don’t want to coach, don’t want to push young girls the way I was pushed! I don’t want to report on the sport, critique and label figure skaters the way I was labeled. I don’t want to consult or serve on any related committees.”

“But you still skate!”

Grace was stunned. How did she know? “For pleasure, to keep in shape, and that’s all. I don’t want to skate professionally or work in the industry.”

“But why? It’s what you know!” Winnie said pleadingly. “It was our life!”

“Because I don’t love it enough to give so much of myself. I’m very grateful that I had such wonderful opportunities, but it’s time to move on. I’m retired from that life. I have a new life.”

Winnie stood. “You’ll have children,” she said, her voice shaking a little bit. “A daughter. She’ll be born with it, like you were. Will you forbid her?”

“If I’m lucky enough to have a daughter someday, I’ll support her, but I’m not going to ride herd on her twenty-four hours a day. I’m not going to expect her to live out my dream. I’m going to tell you for the hundredth time, the only way we can communicate is if you give this up!”

“Are you really happier, Izzy? Living in a tiny room over a flower shop, toiling seven days a week to make centerpieces for people you don’t even know? You have a legacy. Your time is nearly up—if you wait many more years, these opportunities will dry up and you’ll be forgotten!”

“Only if there’s a God,” Grace said. She whirled around and left the house.

Troy just watched her go, not knowing what to do. When Grace came back with another floral arrangement, he caught on. Of course, even though this was a ruse, she would leave the flowers and the resort would pay her and bill Winnie. She put her large and beautiful arrangement on the coffee table and went back to the van.

It was as if his feet were glued to the floor. He was mesmerized by Winnie, dressed in a silk pantsuit in a rose color, complete with jewelry that was daunting. Diamonds on her fingers, gold on her wrists. When Grace said her mother was rich, he really couldn’t make a mental picture of it, but he was getting there now. It wasn’t just the clothing or the classy digs she could easily afford, it was the power she thought she had. Winnie speaks and the world comes to heel.