One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(62)

“True,” she said.

“I went back to see her, to ask her what it would take to have a civilized relationship with you. You don’t have to like each other, but you’re mother and daughter. But that conversation didn’t really happen. She knows she’s made mistakes, Gracie. Big ones. And she has issues.” He tapped the letter. “She wrote you a letter. She was going to have it delivered to you if that flower delivery she trumped up didn’t result in a conversation. She asked me to give it to you.”

She put down her coffee and snatched it. “Do you really think that was your place? Going to see my mother?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “It looked like you were both in pain. And it also looked perfectly ridiculous. I couldn’t imagine why on earth you two had to have such a blowup over your future in the skating industry. It made no sense to me.” He watched her rip open the envelope. “I get it now.”

She started reading. She frowned angrily and made a grunt of disapproval. But then she read to the bottom of the page and looked at him with a shocked expression. She put down that page and read further. Her eyes glistened and her lips moved as she read. She lifted her gaze from the page to look at Troy. “Is this true?”

“Does she lie? Because she was taken from the restaurant where I found her back to her cottage in a wheelchair.”

Grace shook her head. “She’s bossy and controlling and uppity. She doesn’t lie. That I know of. Well, except for that note, but when confronted, she admitted it.”

“Read it,” he said, nodding to the pages.

She read on, getting to the third page. She gave a huff of laughter but had to wipe her eyes at the same time. “This is so Winnie. She thinks I’m completely incompetent. If I don’t go to San Francisco and live with her for at least six months and learn everything there is to know about her finances I will bungle it and be completely wiped out in six months after she’s gone.” She looked at Troy. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks. She gave her head a little forlorn shake. “She really cares about me. In a completely insulting way. If she’s so worried, why doesn’t she just leave it all to a cat or something?”

“She loves you. She’s just used to telling people what to do. It would get on my nerves, too.”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Grace said with a hiccup of emotion.

“But she wants to make it right with you. Before...you know.”

Grace put down the letter. Without explaining what she was doing, she grabbed her personal cell and dialed a number. As he watched, she was pursing her lips. They’d become red around the edges and her nose grew pink and wet. She wiped at her face. Then she spoke into the phone. “Mikhail. Winnie finally found a way to break me. She’s dying.”

* * *

Ray Anne had given it a lot of thought. She couldn’t make Ginger less sad; she couldn’t help her get beyond her grief and there was no way to replace the life that had been taken from her. But it had been nine months since the baby died and she could get her moving.

When Ginger got up in the morning, she stumbled into the kitchen in her shapeless T-shirt and Capri-length leggings, her hair all lank and flat and ratty. She’d barely gotten down three swallows of her first cup of coffee when Ray Anne challenged her. “Well, buttercup, I’m taking you on an outing. We’re going to Eugene for the day. We’re going to shop and have a nice lunch and go to the beauty shop.”

“Thanks, Ray, but I’d rather just stay here, if you don’t mind.”

“But I do mind, honey, because we’ve gotta do something. What you’ve been doing isn’t working. You need a fresher-upper.” She smoothed her hand over Ginger’s hair and resisted the urge to say Ack. “A cut, some color, some new clothes. I’m going to get in the shower while you have your coffee. Make yourself some cereal or toast or both. You’ll need your strength.”

“Ray, really...I’m just not interested.”

“Believe me, it’s necessary.”

“Look, I don’t have money to spend on clothes that don’t matter, that I won’t wear.”

“I’m taking care of that for now, but we have to do something about your money situation, too. Once you’re fixed up a little bit, we’re going to find you a job.”

“I’m not sure I can...”

“I want you to try. It doesn’t have to be a fancy job. We can go out to the beach and see if Cooper and Sarah need help in the bar. Spring is here, summer is on the way and the beach gets real busy. Maybe Cliff needs a waitress or one of the businesses in town needs clerical help. But you can’t look like a vagrant if you mean to work with the public. Ginger, you have to do something with your time. You can’t sit around and think all the time. It’s not helping.”

“But I’m not staying here!”

“As far as I can tell, you have no idea what you’re going to do or where you’re going to do it. So we should just act like you need to get your life moving forward and part of that is work. Even if you leave in a few weeks.”

“Look, I’ll just call my mom, have her pack up a couple of boxes of clothes I left there and—”

“Ginger, honey, I’m sure those clothes you left behind don’t fit you any better than the ones you brought. Now, you keep an open mind and come along with me. I promise I won’t force anything on you that you don’t like. I’m not going to make you dress like me,” she added, then laughed.