“You’re very nice people, Gracie.”
“I know you must ask yourself how you got into this situation.”
“Oh, I think it was New Year’s Eve.” He chuckled. “I’m sure you can’t come up with any more surprises now.”
“God, I hope not,” she said emphatically, then curled up against him and went to sleep.
Grace was a little frantic in the morning, trying to figure out how to get everything ready. She wanted to leave the shop in good shape for Iris and Ginger, her loft cleaned up for her return, and she wanted to pack, shower, look presentable when it was time to go. She threw on her jeans from the day before and dashed down to the shop, leaving Troy in her bed once again. To her surprised delight, Iris and Ginger were already in the shop and Ginger had before her a beautiful white centerpiece.
“Look at you!” Grace said.
“I’m getting a little better, but my instructor is right beside me, moving things around, pointing, shaking her head when I choose the wrong stem or stalk, cutting off ends to the right length. I didn’t exactly do this alone.”
“But she’s catching on,” Iris said. “In a couple of weeks, she’ll be re-creating some of your stock pieces on her own.”
“Also, I’m extremely slow and careful,” Ginger said. “Iris whips ’em out in twenty minutes.”
“Iris grew up in this shop.”
“I was helping to make centerpieces and wreaths and bouquets when I was ten. I guess you could say I’ve had a little practice.”
“I’m leaving at around noon today for a two-o’clock flight,” Grace said. “Let’s go over the schedule and what you need from me before I leave. Iris, there will be a flower delivery today. The vendor will get here at about two and I’ll be gone.”
“I’ve done it before, Grace,” Iris said.
“Be sure to give him the order for next Thursday, which includes the flowers for the Lacoumette-Grant wedding, and tell him I’ll need it before noon. Post a sign that the shop will be closed Monday and Tuesday. I’ll be back Tuesday night, open Wednesday.”
“I can open Monday and Tuesday,” Ginger said. “Don’t worry, I won’t attempt any extravagant arrangements. If you think it will be slow, I might not even have orders to fill.”
“Ginger and I can make up a few stock arrangements so she has some on hand in the cooler to sell if anyone wanders in. And I’ll check in after school on Monday to see if we should make anything up for Tuesday.”
“You guys,” she said. “You’re so fantastic.”
“We can figure out how to put a sign on the door. When are you headed to Portland for the wedding?”
“Friday morning, first thing. You still want to go, Ginger?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Are you sure it’s okay? Are you sure I won’t be deadweight?”
“I’d love for you to come. I’m going to make up a few centerpieces early Friday morning for their Friday-night party but I’ll transport the rest of my flowers in the back of the van, which is refrigerated. I’ll make up the wedding flowers at my old shop in Portland early Saturday. That way if I’m missing anything Mamie and Ross can probably help me fill in. We’re closing the shop for the wedding. That’s how it rolls for a big out-of-town affair.”
“I’ll be around if you want someone in the shop that Saturday,” Iris reminded her.
“Nah,” Grace said. “When I took this wedding I made a decision—I’d close for a couple of days. What I could earn keeping the shop open is more than offset by Peyton’s wedding. Let’s not drive ourselves crazy. I can recommend other florists in the area or take orders for Monday pickup or delivery.”
“Excellent,” Iris said. “In that case, hand over the store cell phone. I’ll take it until you’re back.”
Grace took it off her belt, looked at it and gave it to her. “The charger is on my desk. I think I’m having separation anxiety already.”
“Just make sure your desk and computer are just as you want them—I might have to share them until you’re back. Then get out of here, get ready to go.”
“Right,” she said, heading for her office. A half hour later she was hauling some of her spring sidewalk displays outside. When she turned, Iris was standing there, tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest.
“All right,” Iris said. “Ginger and I have this. Go.”
“You’re sure? I still have time...”
“Go. If I have a question, which I probably won’t, I know your number.”
“Okay.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll be upstairs till noon. I’ll stop in to say goodbye.”
“Great. We’ll be fine.”
Grace dashed up the stairs and into her loft. Troy was just tugging up and zipping his pants and she grinned. “Looks like I’m seconds too late.”
He pulled the zipper down. “I have a little time to spare.”
“I should have learned by now, we don’t joke around about sex, since you’re a sex maniac. Zip those britches, mister—I have a lot to do. I want to clean up around here and pack. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”
He tilted his head. “I’m a guy. My cleaning up and packing will take about fifteen minutes.”
“That’s great, just don’t show up here until noon. It takes me longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close to kiss her. “Thanks for last night.” Then he let her go and shot out the door.
Grace took just a second to savor the moment. It was so nice having a real live boyfriend wanting her and letting her know it. She never in her wildest dreams imagined this could happen to her, especially not with someone as wonderful as Troy. She thought it only happened in novels.
She shook herself and got busy. It wouldn’t take long—this was like living in an RV and she loved it. She changed her sheets and smoothed the comforter over her bed. Then she opened the suitcase on top of the bed but before she packed her clothes, she scrambled around the little loft. She ran the vacuum she kept in the small broom closet, dusted off her wood furniture, wiped off the table, counters, microwave, fridge and left the cleaner in the bathroom for the sink and mirror. She checked the fridge for food that should be thrown out, packed her charged laptop in her briefcase, and then she started on her clothes.
She wasn’t taking anything dressy. She folded and packed underwear, a couple of pairs of nice pants, jeans, coordinated tops and a blazer. Shoes were added. She glanced at her watch, proud—there was plenty of time. She’d take a shower, clean the bathroom behind herself and be ready with time to spare. She stepped out of the shower after a nice scrub and shave, dried and moisturized, wrapped herself in a towel and reached under the sink for her makeup. She’d leave her makeup bag, hair dryer, brush and comb, lotion out on the counter so they could go right in her suitcase and—
There it was. Her box of tampons. That hadn’t been touched in she wasn’t sure how long. And right beside it in a little plastic bag was that pregnancy test Peyton had given her. Just in case... “Oh, dear baby Jesus,” she said aloud. She sank onto the closed toilet lid.
What had happened?
Okay, Peyton had suggested the test if her period didn’t come.
But instead of getting a period, she’d gotten a scary note that appeared to be from her stalker. The world tipped. She had been consumed with fear, with protection plans that included using a Taser on her boyfriend. She had been filled with frightening memories of being a fourteen-year-old girl held captive in a maintenance closet until police could come. Denny and Becca came for a weekend, and Grace skated for them. Her mother made a surprise appearance and...
Somewhere in there, with one crisis after another, she’d completely forgotten about everything else. She tried counting the weeks since she’d had a period and couldn’t figure out the exact number.
The best thing that could happen would be a negative test result now. She unwrapped the test, read the directions quickly and got ready.
And nothing came.
“Come on, come on, come on,” she chanted.
She sat and sat and finally, she felt the urge and wet the stick. Then she had to let it sit for a few minutes. She just stared at it. Gradually, after the first minute and a half, a pink shadow began to appear on the yes side. But she stared at it without blinking, because surely it would go away.
But no. It was two lines. A red button appeared and the word yes popped up.
Grace felt as if she was going to throw up. She sat weakly on the toilet lid. Pregnant, she thought. “Crap.”
Eighteen
When Troy arrived back at Grace’s place with his packed bag, he saw that hers was sitting at the foot of the stairs to the loft. Sure enough, he found her in the shop, going over last-minute details with Iris and Ginger.
“If Peyton should come in to check on things, tell her we’re right on schedule and not to worry about a thing. I think she plans on going to Portland with her sister, Scott to follow with his kids. Even though I won’t be here, tell her we’re good to go, her flowers have been ordered, rest easy. She might not have my personal cell number so you can give it to her if she needs reassurance.”
“Peyton’s not the jittery sort,” Iris said. “And I didn’t think you were, but you seem to be wound up. Is taking the boyfriend home a little nerve-racking?”
She shook her head. “My mother has met Troy, so that’s not it. I haven’t been home in years. In fact, my last four years in competition I was rarely home. I was wherever my coach or the competition was and that was everywhere but home. I seemed to be training in LA or Chicago, only visiting San Francisco when my mother happened to be there. I have no reason to be nervous.”
“Well, if leaving the shop worries you, relax. Even if I really screw up the next four days, your shop will be here when you get home,” Iris said. “And I promise you, I can keep the place standing.”
“You will never know how much I appreciate this,” Grace said. “I’ll make this up to you somehow.”
“Just go. Try to enjoy it a little even though it’s a heavy burden you’re dealing with.”
“We’ll be fine,” Troy said. “I’m anxious to see Grace’s home. Come on, Gracie, relax. Iris will take good care of things. Let’s go—our flight leaves in a little less than two hours and we have a drive.”
Grace gave Iris and Ginger hugs and let herself be drawn away. Troy picked up her suitcase. “Anything else?”
“That’s it.”
“I hope there’s a little time to go into the city,” he said. “If you can’t, I understand.” He hefted the suitcase into the back of the Jeep. “I love the city,” he said as he got in the car. He drove out of the alley and reached for her hand. “Are you really jittery?”
“Oh, maybe a little overwhelmed at all there is to deal with. But I’ll be fine once we get there.”
“It’s all good,” he said. “Pays to have friends like Iris. Not only is she taking care of the flower shop, she’s lining up a substitute for me for Monday and Tuesday. As much as I enjoy the kids, I’m looking forward to summer.” And he proceeded to talk about things he hoped to do over the summer. He realized she might be pretty busy this summer, but he hoped there would be time for a couple of short camping trips along one of his favorite rivers in Idaho. He talked a little bit about some of his favorite river trips in the five-state area. Although Grace nodded a lot, he could tell she was barely paying attention to him. But he thought he was doing her a service by regaling her with stories to take her mind off four days with her mother.
When they got to the regional airport he looked around. “I’ve never flown out of here. And get this—it appears parking in this lot is free.”
She gave him a strange look.
He pulled the suitcases out of the back and Grace took control of hers, extending the handle and pulling it.
“What airline is this?” he asked her.
“Oh, Troy,” she said, walking ahead. “I haven’t prepared you for this. I’m sorry.”
He held the door for her and they entered a small reception area banked by a counter behind which people worked on one side, offices and refreshment machines on the other. A sign pointed to the restaurant. A double door led right onto the runway. There were a few people waiting, and Winnie, Virginia and Mikhail were seated by the door. Mikhail stood up and greeted them. “Good, you are here. We can go.”
Mikhail took Winnie’s left arm while Virginia took her right and they carefully guided her out the door and onto the tarmac. They passed through what appeared to be a metal detector but nothing like the usual airport security.
“Where are we going?” Troy asked.
“Air Winnie,” Grace said, indicating the small jet straight ahead. There were air stairs, but a uniformed man waited at the bottom with a chair-like contraption for Winnie. The plane was not a little six-seater: it was a private jet.
“Shits of the gods,” Troy muttered.
* * *
Troy could not believe he was flying on a private jet. Like most people, just affording coach fares was a challenge. And when he thought about rich people, he thought they were very different, not people just like he was. “Did you always travel like this?” he asked Grace.
“No, not very often. We took a chartered jet on occasion. Now, I think my mother indulges this because of her condition. Her days of traveling are numbered.”
The jet was midsize, generously spaced with seating for ten, a large galley, large restroom, tables and closet space. The cabin was beautiful, the seats wide and comfortable. And Grace could tell from the glitter in Troy’s eyes that he was loving it. “This is shit-hot,” he whispered to her.
Hmm. He isn’t put off, she thought. Well, that was a good sign.
She wanted to tell Troy about the pregnancy test, but she didn’t dare. Not now, not at the onset of four days with her mother. The second they had this visit behind them, the moment they had some time alone that wouldn’t be interrupted by her mother’s needs, she would tell him. But the last thing she wanted was for Winnie to find out before she settled things with Troy. She had to know how he wanted to deal with this situation. What if he didn’t want it? What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if everything collapsed because she had screwed up the plan?
The captain came into the cabin and introduced himself to Winnie, saying a brisk hello to the others. “We’re ready if you are,” he said.
“By all means,” Winnie said.
“Our flight time should be just slightly over an hour,” he told her. “If you need anything at all, press your call button.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Once they were airborne, Winnie and Virginia had a little meeting. Virginia had her notebook out and made a list from Winnie’s comments. There were many details. Alex, Winnie’s driver, had left them at the airport and was driving the car back to San Francisco. A car service had been arranged to pick them up when they landed. Dinner at the house was being prepared and the guest rooms were freshened. There were people Winnie wanted called, household maintenance she wanted done, bills paid. Mikhail pulled out a deck of cards and started playing solitaire. And before long Winnie stopped dictating and nodded off.
“Are you all right?” Troy asked her.
“Sure. Fine. I just have very mixed feelings about going home. A part of me wants to see the place once more but...” She shook her head. “A part of me is afraid I won’t be able to leave.”
“Because you love it?”
“No, because I’ll be trapped somehow.”
“Don’t be irrational, Gracie. You can do what you want.”
“That’s always been hard,”
she said. “Doing what I want instead of what my mother wants.”
“Yes, but now you’ve had some practice.”
Just over two hours later a black Cadillac SUV was passing through the iron gates into a Nob Hill neighborhood filled with large old houses fronted by manicured lawns and beautiful landscaping. Their driver pulled into a circular drive and right up to the front entrance of a rich-looking manor house. The driver parked and raced around to help Winnie get out. He was quickly replaced by Virginia on one arm and Mikhail on the other while Troy assisted the driver with the luggage.
“If you’ll help me get it inside, I can manage it from there,” Troy said.
“Be happy to, sir.”
When he passed through the big double doors Troy found himself not in a house but in an impressive courtyard with durable outdoor furniture scattered around, an outdoor sofa and two overstuffed chairs in front of a beautiful hearth. There were two sets of tables and chairs, vines climbing along the walls, small trees, flower beds lining the courtyard, hanging and standing pots filled with plants and a couple of decorative statues.
He brought a couple of suitcases into the courtyard, Grace brought his and her own inside, the driver assisted him with the rest, most of which must have belonged to Winnie. She traveled well, but she didn’t travel light. “This is fine,” Troy said. “I can get it from here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He walked with Grace through the next door, into the house, and he stopped inside the massive foyer with marble mosaic floor, wide curving staircase and huge formal sitting room opposite the staircase. He looked around in awe.
Winnie was four steps up the stairs, grasping the rail on one side, Virginia on the other, Mikhail close behind her. Then she stumbled back a step and Mikhail steadied her. Troy gasped and whispered, “Jesus.” He left the suitcases where they sat and went to them.
“Winnie, here,” he said, brushing Virginia out of the way. “Let’s do this, it’s safer.” He swept her up in his arms and told Virginia to lead the way.
“Leave those bags, Gracie. I’ll come back for them.”