One Wish

  But she followed him, pulling her own bag up the stairs. It made her so proud, the way he stepped up to the plate and carried Winnie to her bedroom. He asked her where she’d like him to put her down and she pointed to the chair beside the veranda. He even bent over and moved the footstool for her feet.

  “Thank you, dear boy,” she said.

  He glanced around the room briefly, and his eyes settled on the big four-poster bed. “Winnie, you’re not going to be able to get in and out of that bed by yourself.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the adjoining room,” Virginia said. “I’ll be able to help her.”

  “It was where I stayed when my husband was ill,” Winnie said. “Grace?” she called, looking past Troy to where Grace stood in the doorway. “Grace, I’m so tired. I might have to miss dinner. I hope you won’t be offended.”

  “Of course not. Let me put my suitcase away and I’ll come and help you undress and get into bed.”

  “Virginia can help me—”

  “Let me, Mama. I’ll be right back. Troy, let me show you where we’re going to be.”

  “I’ll bring up your luggage, Winnie,” he said. “It’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

  Grace led the way down the hall to the room that was hers when she lived in this house. She was a little surprised—not a thing had been changed. It looked the same as the day she left. Out of curiosity she opened the walk-in closet and everything was there. She’d even left a comb and brush on the dressing table in the attached bathroom. She hadn’t exactly expected Winnie to turn it into a sewing room or anything, but this was almost a shrine. There was a special case for her trophies, medals and ribbons. And there were many.

  “Will you be comfortable in here with me?” she asked Troy.

  “Will it upset your mother?” he asked. “Us sharing a bed?”

  “I hope not, because I can’t have it any other way. Seriously? I think she knows I’m no longer a child. She’s not a prude.”

  “If you’re sure...”

  She left her suitcase standing by the closet door. “I’m sure. I’m going to go help her get comfortable and into that bed. Thanks for offering to bring up her bags. Then you can poke around.”

  “I might get lost. Grace, I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. At least not since I toured Hearst Castle.”

  “Come on, it’s not that big. I think it’s under ten thousand square feet.”

  “Right. Four houses. I should take a whistle in case I need to be rescued.”

  “Don’t tease me about it, okay? I know it’s a lot of house.”

  “I can see how something this big can be overpowering,” he said, looking around her bedroom. “I think it’s hilarious that you live in that little loft.”

  “And love it,” she said. She got up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for carrying Winnie up the stairs. That was very gallant.”

  “I saw a broken hip in her future if I didn’t. I’ll go get her luggage.”

  “When the driver is here, he handles things like that. But he probably hasn’t even hit Eureka yet.”

  “Well, you’ve got me. Maybe I’ll come in handy.”

  * * *

  Grace and Troy had their dinner in the kitchen. A caterer delivered and served gumbo, linguini, bread, tomatoes with buffalo mozzarella. Virginia took Winnie a tray and Mikhail joined her, leaving Troy and Grace alone.

  They ate in silence while the caterer closed up containers and left them on the work island in the big kitchen to be placed in the refrigerator after they’d cooled. When she left, Grace put down her spoon. “This place isn’t going to work for my mother,” she said. “I admit, I was being a little selfish when I said we should find her a place near Thunder Point—I didn’t want to leave my shop, you, my friends...I knew this house was too big, the furniture and stairs difficult for an invalid, but until now I didn’t realize how right I was. This isn’t a good place for her now.” She shook her head. “If she doesn’t fall getting in or out of that bed...”

  “You can’t leave her here without nursing help,” Troy said.

  “I won’t. Virginia knows everyone. She’s like a personal concierge. That’s part of her job, knowing where to look, who to call.”

  “Tell me what you’d like me to do while I’m here,” he said.

  “I don’t know. I’ll spend tomorrow with Virginia and my mother. We have to pull together a plan. I better call Ray Anne and see if she’s making progress. This is more urgent than I realized.”

  “Gracie, this is all going to be yours,” he said. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “I’m going to figure that out. And then I’m going home, where there’s a life that’s not bigger than life.”

  “Really, I don’t know how you can leave this.”

  “Do you want it, Troy? All this house, all the upkeep, maintenance, work? All the space? All the responsibility? All the people?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “But, Gracie, it’s damned intimidating.”

  “In what way?” she asked.

  He was quiet for a second. “If you have all this, what more could you possibly need? What could I ever give you that you don’t already have ten of?”

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  * * *

  Grace had to take on a house she’d never known, not really. It had never been her burden to make sure it was cared for or staffed—that had been something women like Winnie were bred and raised to do. And Winnie was dying.

  No matter how much Winnie might want to be in charge, it was no longer practical. Virginia called Winnie’s neurologist, the man who initially diagnosed her almost four years earlier. Dr. Halstead came to the house in the late afternoon the very next day. Grace understood that house calls were not typical for him, but he’d known Winnie long before she needed his medical expertise—they had served together on several charity boards over the years. He confirmed that Winnie had hobbled along with her disease for longer than was typical; now it was a matter of finding a team who could help manage her quality of life. When asked how long that life might last, his prognosis wasn’t positive. It could be as short as a few months, as long as a year but more likely something in between. Now it was down to staying comfortable and taking advantage of her mental acuity, which would probably be the last to fail.

  “I live up the coast in a very small quiet town,” Grace told him. “I have someone looking for a place for Mother so I can be on hand, where I can see her every day. I don’t want her to have to go to a hospital.”

  “That’s the best way. Most end-stage ALS patients require a great deal of support, but there’s no way to reverse the disease.”

  The first order of business was moving a smaller bed into Winnie’s room. Virginia contacted a home health care service and since Winnie didn’t go through insurance or require approval, she arranged to pay top dollar for a couple of experienced nurse’s aides who would start helping out immediately, taking the burden of her personal care off Grace and Virginia.

  And Mikhail.

  “You’re still here,” Grace observed. “When do you plan to return to your team?”

  “I think, much later. They’re in good hands. If they choose other coach, so be it.”

  “I’m taking her to Thunder Point as soon as I can,” she reminded him.

  “Thunder Point,” he said with a shrug. “Not so bad.”

  “Are you planning to stay with her, then?”

  “I have nothing so important right now.”

  He was the perfect distraction for Winnie. He wasn’t ready to retire, but he wasn’t a young man at sixty-six. “I had no idea Mother meant so much to you,” she said. “All the years you coached me, you ran interference between Mother and me. You’re the one that kept me working and h
er in line. I didn’t know you loved her.”

  “Love? Not the love you know, pupsik. We understand each other. It could be my life closing, not hers. She would not turn me out. Is family. There should be one person who doesn’t hate me on the other side. I’m not long behind her.”

  But he was long behind her—he was strong, his health good, and this was a sacrifice for him. He was in demand as a coach, his business was still thriving. She knew he would be missed. She also knew that he could stay a few weeks and go back to his team, currently managed by coaching assistants, and pick up right where he left off. “I’m glad you’re staying awhile. Don’t get underfoot, now. Maybe teach Troy poker or something.”

  There was a housekeeper who came in weekdays from eight to five. She was fifty-five, of German descent—the woman who had replaced Mamie. She wasn’t as warm and motherly as Mamie, but that might’ve had more to do with the fact that they didn’t really know each other. She seemed to have a wonderful rapport with Virginia, who was younger by only a few years.

  Gretchen didn’t do much housework and only a little cooking. She was the manager of a big house—she hired and supervised a cleaning service, ordered groceries to be delivered and called local restaurants to bring in meals customized to Winnie’s needs. Virginia and Grace met with her in the kitchen and Gretchen was more than happy to stay on after Winnie was moved. After all, it was great pay for far less work.

  Meeting her mother’s two lawyers was emotionally exhausting, but not because it was hard work. Just as Grace had suspected, Winnie had been prepared. She’d known for years that this was coming. Everything in the house had been cataloged, photographed and appraised, including jewelry. As for Winnie’s accounts and net worth, it had all been managed and audited—after all, the money was old. It wasn’t as though it was a new job.

  Grace met briefly with a Realtor. She wouldn’t make a commitment and even suggested she wasn’t sure what she would do with this property, but she knew exactly what would happen. Whispered feelers would go out and when the time came to sell, there would be an auction. The house was a prime property.

  It was all so huge to her. Even flying first-class, going to skate practices in a chauffeured car and owning her own business hadn’t really prepared her for the magnitude of her imminent inheritance.

  But as Grace began to understand the full weight of it, she felt Winnie’s stress. It had been a life’s work. “Please don’t worry,” she told her mother. “I won’t let it be abused, stolen or ignored. I promise.”

  “But what will you do with it?” Winnie asked.

  “Just as you did, Mama. I’ll take very good care of it.”

  “And the house and all these possessions?” she asked.

  “I want you to be at peace about that. It’s all being guarded and cared for. And later, when you don’t need it anymore, I’ll go through it, claim those things that have sentimental value to both of us and then... Then there will be an estate sale managed by the company you suggested. If it will give you peace of mind, I can meet with them before I go home.”

  “Grace, do you have to go home?”

  “I have to get a place ready for us,” she said.

  She wanted enough space so that when necessary she could stay the night with her mother, but she wasn’t planning to live in the house with her.

  “You’ll need money. Virginia has some banking cards for you to sign for your checking account. And when you find that house, I want my bedroom rug, the Aubusson. And the antique dressing table. And the china. Not the expensive china, the Audun Fleur. And there’s silver that was my mother’s—if you don’t want to use it, I understand, but if there’s a granddaughter someday...”

  Grace touched her hand. “I might not use some of my grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s treasures, but I promise to keep them in case... There could be daughters one day.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were daughters for you?” she said. “You will do so much better with them than I did.”

  “I hope there are daughters and I hope I can love them as much,” she said, even though for so many years she had found fault with her mother’s form of affection.

  “We got to the top, Izzy,” she said.

  “Yes, Mother. Thank you for all you did.”

  “No, Izzy. Thank you for doing it for me.”

  Grace never thought she’d hear that! “We were a good team when it came to winning,” she said. She made a vow. When she had children, she wasn’t going to put the burden of her desires on them.

  Every day exhausted her. She would see Troy on and off through the days. He poked around the house and neighborhood, went down to the wharf a couple of times and kept himself busy. He made friends with the maintenance men, pestered Gretchen in the kitchen, got lost in the library and spent some time on his laptop. She’d have dinner with him in the kitchen, fall into bed with him at night and sometimes she cried. She was losing the mother she had always loved, tried so hard to please and never really known.

  Finally Tuesday came and it was time to go back to Thunder Point. She was so relieved, but frantic at the leaving. Virginia would stay, help get her mother to Thunder Point when the time came. Mikhail was planning on coming to Thunder Point, as well. Then Virginia would return to San Francisco. The housekeeper would remain to keep the house in order and in good repair until it was time to close it up. All the account information and household data was uploaded to accessible accounts so they were easy for Grace to oversee. She could call the accounting firm or lawyers whenever there was a question or request. The neighborhood and the house had private security; the contents had been inventoried, and her mother was in good hands with Virginia running herd on her health care providers.

  The plane that Virginia arranged for Troy and Grace wasn’t a large plush jet, but rather a small Lear that returned them to Thunder Point in no time at all.

  Grace wanted to tell him about the baby. Funny, in her mind it had gone from a positive pregnancy test to a baby. Oh, she was falling in love with the baby already.

  But she was so tired after four days of getting things settled, she just fell asleep on the plane. They had a quick bite to eat on the way home from the airport then Troy helped her get her suitcase up to her little apartment. “I have to go home, babe,” he said. “I need to get ready for work in the morning. You going to be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you for coming with me. Thank you for everything you did.”

  “I didn’t do much. You handled it all. I’ll talk to you after work tomorrow.”

  Nineteen

  Troy couldn’t count the number of times Grace had said “You don’t understand” when she was telling him about her childhood, her life as a competitive figure skater, her parents. Likewise, he couldn’t imagine how many times he had replied, “Of course I do, Grace.” Now, he realized, he really hadn’t. Grace had come from a world so alien to him he wondered if he would ever understand it.

  Troy had never been around people with the kind of money it took to rent a jet or live in a mansion with a complete staff to take care of it. But of course there had to be a staff—no one could take care of something that big alone. The closest he’d ever come to that kind of wealth was knowing a guy who had a cousin who was a pro football player and bought himself a three-million-dollar house and a fast car. He couldn’t even remember what kind of car because of course he’d never seen it. Troy didn’t even read about rich people. He read about rafting, climbing, diving. He was scrimping to make his Jeep payments. Grace could probably pay it off out of her allowance.

  Did Grace get an allowance?

  He left Grace at her place and went home to his apartment, which was very quiet. It was also very lonely. He had only rarely spent a night alone since he started sleeping with Grace and he wasn’t thrilled about being alone tonig
ht, either. Troy had never lived with a woman and he still didn’t, not officially at any rate. He and Grace each had their own place. Except he checked in with Grace at least three times a day and saw her when they were both off work. And stayed the night more often than not.

  But right now he needed a little space and time to think. He thought he knew her inside and out, but after four days in San Francisco he wondered if he knew her at all. He was more than a little intimidated by the magnitude of her wealth. It made him feel like a failure by comparison. Intellectually he knew that wasn’t the case, but somewhere inside, he had that sinking feeling of not being good enough.

  The next day, during his free period, he went looking for Iris, whom he considered his closest friend. She was a counselor and he needed counseling. There was a part of him that hoped she’d be busy with a student, because he wasn’t sure how he was going to put into words what he was thinking.

  “Got a minute?” he asked, standing in her doorway.

  “Sure,” she said with a smile. “Want to sit?”

  “Thanks,” he said, sitting in front of her desk. But then he didn’t say anything.

  “Troy? Problems with a student?”

  He shook his head. “Listen, I don’t know how to say this, how to explain this, so if I sound like an idiot...”

  “Just spit it out. We can rake through the idiocy afterward.”

  “Can this be confidential?” he asked.

  “Of course!”

  “It’s about Grace. We’ve gotten pretty close.”

  Iris smiled. “You two seem great together.”

  “You know we’re not alike, right?”

  She made a doubtful face. “You seem a lot alike. You laugh at the same things, you appear to be inseparable, she’s an athlete and you’re a pretty physical guy. I bet you finally found someone to play with.”

  “But we come from completely different backgrounds. Completely. Did you know Grace is—” He struggled. “She’s well-to-do.”

  Iris leaned back. “I heard that. I mean, she told me. It was pretty recently, when she was telling me about growing up on the ice-skating circuit. She said she had tutors and traveled the world to compete and I asked how expensive things like skating lessons were. Lessons for kids can be as much as ninety dollars an hour but coaching for world champions? It can be any amount, depending on the coach, maybe four hundred a day! Plus expenses. So I asked...”