“I can’t believe you’re working,” she said. “You just got married last night!”
“I know, but I was up early. We had a great breakfast with the family and now they’re all headed home. Grace is exhausted and she’s taking a nap. I think we wore out Winnie, too. The only person with energy to spare is Mikhail—he’s looking for things to do. Last I saw him, he was headed into town on foot, determined to look around.”
“You should be with Grace,” she said.
“Shh, don’t tell, but I got restless. I don’t want a nap. I’m going to go over to the loft in a little while and clean it up for you. You do want it, right?”
“I do,” she said excitedly. “I’ve only been in it a couple of times. Can I go, too? Help?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I’m going to give Cooper a couple more hours. Should I call you?”
“You can. Or...I think I’ll go to the shop and make sure everything is right for tomorrow morning. I’ll be over there already.”
So, back to town she went. There wasn’t a lot to do in the shop, though the Saturday rush for the wedding had left it a little messy. The arch was standing in the alley beside the back door, as promised, and had to be dismantled and put away. There was the usual sweeping and wiping down to do. She listened to the work cell, but there were only congratulatory messages for Grace and no orders.
She looked at her own cell phone several times, wondering why Matt wasn’t calling. There was a kernel of fear in her. She couldn’t wait any longer. She texted him. Are you home safely?
Then she stared at the phone, waiting. He didn’t reply. If she didn’t hear from him soon, she would call Peyton. In the meantime, she began to tidy the back room and office. The phone that a couple of months ago she didn’t even care to recharge was now in her pocket. She was waiting for it to chime or ring. And she hated that!
She went from tidying and wiping to scrubbing, putting a lot of muscle into it, making that scarred old worktable shine. Waiting. It brought to mind how she waited to hear from Mick, to hear he was nearby and could see her or out of town on some gig but thinking of her. Waiting for his affection, waiting for him to come to bed in the wee hours, waiting, always waiting for some affirmation from him. Didn’t he feel horrible about leaving her alone and pregnant? Didn’t he want to at least discuss the divorce? Make a compromise? Didn’t he wonder how she was getting along? Wonder about the baby? She almost reached out to him ten thousand times and it took a will of iron not to but she could remember the agony of that waiting so clearly, it might’ve been yesterday. And had that agony ever touched him? Not in the slightest way. This next song is going to be it, babe, it’s going to push me to the top.
Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out. Twenty-five minutes had passed when Matt responded. Safe and sound.
She waited, staring at the phone screen. Was there nothing more? No, talk to you later? Hope you weren’t worried? Had a good time last night?
Nothing.
She felt her eyes well with tears and told herself to stop! She couldn’t be that woman again, that woman in love and desperate to have her passions returned. She couldn’t cry for attention from a man, hoping he’d call, hoping he’d notice, hoping he’d care. It was too painful, living in a one-sided relationship.
She turned off her phone. She blew her nose.
It wasn’t long before Troy arrived, knocked on the locked back door of the shop and then took Ginger upstairs. It was such a darling little apartment. One room, really, the bedroom separated from the living room by an arch. There was plenty of room for one person, a large bathroom, the linen closet, which held a stacked washer and dryer along with shelves, a galley kitchen with a few cupboards and a table for two. But there was a regular-size sectional and wall unit holding a TV. The bed was queen-size and there was a wall unit of drawers and closet space.
“This is adorable,” she told Troy.
He was busy moving around the little apartment, checking the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen. “Well, I should have known. My mother wouldn’t leave a speck of dust behind.” He flipped open the lid of the washer. “I guess this means you even have clean sheets on the bed. I’ll run this load of sheets, make sure the bathroom is clean and—”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said. “I’ll take care of that. I know you have your own apartment to clean up. Didn’t I hear you say you’re taking the living room furniture for your game room in the new house?”
“There will be no games in the game room,” he said. “That will be our living room. It’s a good apartment for us.”
“What do you need from here?” Ginger asked.
“I think Grace took everything we could use when we moved to Winnie’s house. I cleaned out the fridge before my folks came and since we don’t have our own kitchen, Grace left some kitchen things here. I’m going to move out of my place this week now that I don’t need the space for family.”
“This is very thoughtful of you and Grace,” Ginger said. “And if you ever have family coming to town, just say the word. I always have space at Ray Anne’s house. I can give you back this guest room whenever you need it.”
“Thanks, we’ll try not to impose,” he said. “I guess you can have it whenever you want. And here’s the key.”
“Is there anything else here you want to take with you?”
“Grace moved all her personal things out early last week. Everything left here is for your use. You shouldn’t need too much.” He picked up the container of laundry detergent and gave it a shake. “You only have a couple more loads in this,” he said.
“You are a very good landlord,” she told him with a smile.
“I imagine you’ll be a perfect tenant.” He looked around. “She was really smart to do this, wasn’t she? Right over the store and all.”
“She was smart about everything.”
“I thought I’d have to do some cleaning but there are even vacuum tracks. It’s all yours—move in whenever you want. I’m going back out to the beach to see if I can get Cooper to help me move. With his truck.” He grinned.
“And I’ll walk back to Ray Anne’s and give her the good news—she can have her life back.”
“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 th
ink 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?”
“I was on my way back from Portland and it was on the way,” Ginger said. “It’s a wonderful farm.”
“So, maybe this will turn into something a little more than friendship?” Grace suggested by way of a question.
Ginger only shrugged, looking back at her receipts.
“What does Matt say about that? After all, he drove all the way to Thunder Point to see you.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Matt.”
“Really? But you gave him your new cell number, right?”
Ginger gave Grace her full attention. “I didn’t,” she said.
“You don’t like Matt?” Grace asked, looking a little surprised and confused.
“Sure, I like him. Ever been in love with the wrong guy, Grace?”
“Matt’s the wrong guy?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know, but I know what it’s like to love the wrong guy. To stalk him, follow him, call him, wait for his calls and even when they’re long overdue, melting into one big puddle because he finally deigned to go to the trouble of making a phone call. I did that already and I put that far behind me—I don’t want to ever be that lonely, desperate girl again—it’s just too painful and shameful. So, Matt and I talked almost every night. Then we went to see the sunset, talked and laughed and kissed. Truthfully, we made out like crazy—it was so nice. I haven’t had that in my life for well over a year, over two years, maybe. It’s been so long since I had strong feelings for a guy that weren’t all gnarled up with regret. You know those feelings, right? Think about him all day, can’t wait to talk to him at night...”
“Or in my case, can’t wait for him to sneak up the back stairs...” Grace admitted, smiling devilishly.
“Oh, that must have been so romantic,” Ginger said.
“It was so romantic. So, you had those feelings?”
She nodded. “And then I realized that once again, I was having those feelings all by myself.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“You tell me. We told each other deeply personal things, kissed like romantic fools, he said he’d call and he didn’t.”
“Well, maybe—”
“Maybe he was in a car accident?” Ginger asked. “Worried, I texted, asking if he made it home safely. And he texted back three words. Safe and sound. There was nothing more. I waited for days.”
Grace got a very naughty smile on her face. “And you changed your number.”
“Well, that was really overdue. I told you my ex called, right? He shouldn’t have my number...”
“You did this for a bigger reason than that. You can hang up on your ex.”
She laughed softly. “Oh, I did. He’s such an idiot—you know what he said? Something like, ‘Gee, Ginger, you’re a little hostile.’” She laughed harder. “Really? Me? Hostile? I wonder why?”
“You did this to show Matt.”
“Show him what? If he wanted to find me, he’d know where to look, right? If he wanted my new number, he knows where I work. No, I’m not punishing Matt.”
“You’re not fooling me,” Grace said. “And good for you! Ha! I did that to Troy, you know. Right before we got engaged. I told him I was pregnant and he said he had a lot to think about, to process, that he needed time to think before he could decide where we go from here. Before he decided? Like it was up to him and didn’t really have much to do with me! I was only the pregnant one, but hey—Troy would figure it out and let me know what we would do next. I told him to take a hike, stay away from me and be sure to let me know when he’d ‘processed.’ I was so done putting up with indecisiveness from a man!”
“I didn’t know you did that.”
“Well, I probably don’t look that stubborn. And you certainly don’t.”
“Oh, I’ll be the first to admit I feel a little sad that it’s been days and Matt hasn’t tried to contact me.”
“Maybe he has the flu. Or was finally put in jail and needs his phone calls to get a lawyer. Hopefully the latter.”
“Grace, this isn’t about him. I don’t think Matt has any ulterior motives. This is about me. I’m never going to that place again—that insecure, lonely, desperate, unloved place. I’m not waiting and hoping. If I ever have a man in my life again, it’s not going to be because I’m fantasizing, it’s going to be because he’s made sure I know it.” She took a breath. “Very likely I will be alone. But with this new start of mine, with a good job, friends, family—I’m not going to be that sad, disappointed person. I don’t want to be that person ever again.”
Grace leaned a hip onto the front counter, half sitting. Her hands were folded across that raised
thigh. “Fair enough—you should never be sad or lonely. You’re too wonderful. But I want to tell you something. Coming from me, I don’t know, you might want to get a second opinion since I have so little experience. Troy was my first real love. But there’s something I learned. In love we’re vulnerable, Ginger. It would be nice if it were more certain and immediate, but the truth is—we have our worries, doubts and fears. We have to inch our way along. We have to discover trust. Sometimes we have to just believe in someone. And sometimes we have to know when to let them go.”
“I guess that’s what I’m trying to learn,” Ginger said. “It’s possible Matt’s just not ready. After all, he went through some heartache, too.”
Eleven
Matt brought a cooler full of dead chickens into the kitchen for his mother. She was going to pluck, wash, butcher and freeze them. Since he’d been hanging around the farm, she snagged him for butcher duty.
“Help me with this,” she said, throwing a headless hen in her work sink. “It won’t take that long. And I wanted to ask you why you put in such long days and such silent nights.”
He frowned. “Silent nights?”
“You’re at my table every night. And you’re back to being quiet and withdrawn. You think we don’t see?”
“I have things on my mind, Mama. Nothing for you to worry about. I’m not depressed at all.”
“Ah,” she said, plucking away with hands that moved over that chicken carcass like greased lightning. “Maybe you think about that pretty friend of Peyton’s, that Ginger. She looks like ginger, doesn’t she? Kind of golden.”
“I’ve been thinking about the farm, the house I’d like to build. It’s a big step, building a house,” he said.
“And how is that pretty Ginger?”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he said. “I should call her.”
“Oh, I thought you liked her.”
“I do like her,” he said.
Corinne laughed softly, feathers flying. She held up a naked, plump hen. “I’m behind the times, but usually when a man likes a woman, he pays attention to her.”