A New Hope (10 page)

It was getting a little loud. Mick was playing some rock, the speakers making the walls shake. She was getting nervous. They were supposed to keep the weed outside and the noise down. They were going to wake the baby! And the windows were open! These fumes—could hurt the baby! The noise wasn’t good for him! She went to Mick and appealed to him to clear the place out if he couldn’t manage them, the people who gathered around. But he didn’t acknowledge her. Her ears were ringing and she decided it would be best if she gathered up the baby and went to her mother’s house, but she couldn’t find the baby. She should call the police or run to the house next door—but the neighbors were also in her yard, enjoying the music.

She was trying to get to her car but her legs wouldn’t carry her and her car wasn’t where it was supposed to be and she had no baby. She wanted to call for help but she just cried like a little fool. Mick was telling her to settle down, she wanted this. This is what you signed on for, he reminded her, frowning at her, going back to his guitar and singing. Then he was kissing someone, some woman she’d never seen before.

Her stomach was in a knot and she was gasping for breath. Her head hurt. In the way dreams can be wild, she was pregnant, then she was searching for the baby and couldn’t find him.

Her eyes flew open. She was trying to catch her breath, as if she’d been running. Her heart was pounding relentlessly and it took her a second to realize it was all a dream.

Instinctively, she rolled over, looked at her phone, saw Matt’s number and hit the redial. His groggy voice answered instantly. “What?” he said. “What’s the matter!”

“Oh, God,” she said, suddenly aware she was calling him in the middle of the night. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” he said. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, willing herself to be calmer. She tried to slow her breathing. “I had a bad dream. I just reached for the phone. And woke you. Jeez—they’re going to lock me up. I’m crackers.” She ran a hand through her hair. “My God, I’m just plain nuts.”

“It’s okay,” he said more calmly. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong and we’ll talk it through.”

She looked at the clock. “Never mind. You have to wake up in two hours and I’m fine.”

“I can sleep in. Till, like, four thirty.”

She laughed in spite of herself, wiping her cheeks. “I bet you wish anyone but me had knocked you out at your sister’s wedding.”

“That is a privilege I would grant
only
you,” he said. “What did you dream? Was it about the baby?”

“Yes and no. It was about my early years with Mick, back when we moved in together. Our house was a party house. It was my house. I rented it. When he was around, every night was spent rehearsing. There were always people around—sometimes a few, sometimes a crowd—groupies, musicians, you know. Music, noise, smoke, drugs. I wasn’t into drugs, by the way. I tried some pot once, drank a little too much a few times, years before starting a family, but...”

“I was in a fraternity,” he said. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Sounds like a never-ending college party, right? I thought it would change when we got married, but it didn’t. Why did I think it would change? He never said it would. In my dream, I was concerned about the baby, about the noise and the smoke and the baby and he was telling me to chill. And then I couldn’t find the baby,” she finished in a weak whisper.

“Matt, I never had the baby in that house with the parties. I left when I was barely pregnant. I told Mick I was going to stay with my parents until he could wrap his head around the fact that we were having a family and the lifestyle wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t be around all that second-hand smoke and I needed to sleep! That’s when he told me it wouldn’t work for him. He was sorry I didn’t get it, but that whole family and baby thing just wasn’t for him.”

He was quiet for a second. “The stress,” he said. “I think all the stress is getting to you, Ginger. The wedding, the dress, the pregnant girlfriends...”

“No, no, that’s not it. He called me. Right after we hung up, Mick called.”

“What did he want?” Matt asked, sounding more alert now.

She laughed a little. “He thought it was so great that I came to hear him sing. He thought we should get together. To talk about our good history.”

“And you said...?”

“I called him an arrogant asshole and hung up on him, then he texted me and said I had some hostility.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You know, I’ve made some incredible blunders, but that defies imagination.”

“It does, doesn’t it? He used to bring his guitar to holiday dinners with my parents and brothers and serenade them. He didn’t notice that they rolled their eyes and wandered away.”

“Always a show, eh?” Matt asked.

“How did I not know how ridiculous he was?”

Matt laughed. “My ex used to tiptoe through the goat shit in her spike heels when she’d come to a family dinner with me. High heels, tight, short skirt, nails like red talons. Everyone in the family looked at her like she was a clown, dressed for the circus, but I didn’t even notice how inappropriate she was. Well, not for a year or so...”

“What do you suppose happens to us?”

“I don’t know what happened to you but I was pumping about a thousand pounds of fresh testosterone,” he said. “I figured it out, just not quick enough.”

“Is that why you divorced? Because you finally figured it out?”

He thought for a second. “No, Ginger. Because she wasn’t just fancy and self-absorbed on the outside. I’d have been happy to carry her through the muck and offal of the farm. But then I found out she was like that on the inside.”

“I never would have guessed how much we have in common.”

“You have no idea. Now put your little head down. See if you can get some sleep...”

“I’ll say good-night,” she said.

“You don’t have to say good-night. Leave the line open. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“We can’t do that,” she said. “Our phones will run out of juice and then we won’t be able to call anyone.”

“You think you’ll be okay?”

“I’m fine. Kind of embarrassed. That was impulsive. I’m not usually that impetuous, calling a man I hardly know in the middle of the night.”

“Hardly know? I can’t think of a woman I know better,” he said. “We know each other very well. If we sign off will you promise if you need to talk, you’ll just call back? No matter what time it is?”

“Sure,” she said. “But I’ll try not to.”

“Sometimes talking helps,” he said. “God, never tell anyone in my family I said that, okay?”

“Okay,” she said with a laugh.

* * *

Matt held the phone against his chest.
Look out
, he told himself.
Danger, danger
. He wanted to be there with her. If he was there, she could roll over, and he’d comfort her. He wanted to get his arms around her, hold her, whisper to her that what she was feeling seemed reasonable. And that she was no longer alone. He’d take that job in a heartbeat.

Nine

T
he fatigue of ALS might’ve slowed Winnie down but it didn’t keep her from staging her own wedding festivities. She rested in the morning after breakfast and a bath, generously tended to by her new full-time nurse, Lin Su. Then she was good for a little company and lunch and with an afternoon rest, she had at least a few hours of socializing and dinner. Winnie’s schedule of meals and rests had to be carefully monitored and protected to ensure she wasn’t weak or fatigued because she had planned activities!

“As if I’m surprised,” Grace said.

Grace had every reason to expect the Headly family to be wonderful. After all, Troy was. What she wasn’t prepared for was to find them more wonderful than she could have imagined. Troy’s mother, Donna, was thoughtful, funny and clearly a strong head of the family. Burt Headly was a big, good-natured cuddle-bear, always smiling, always hugging, perpetually laughing, grandchildren climbing on him all the time. When Troy and twenty-one-year-old Sam stood beside their father, the resemblance in looks and temperament was so obvious people would put them in the same family without knowing them. Troy’s sister, Jess, was very like her mother in both looks and that quiet authority. Her husband, Rick, the firefighter from Morro Bay, fit into the family perfectly—strong, good-natured, patient. And the three children, ages two, four and six, had piles of energy but Troy, Rick and Burt ran them up and down the beach until they were sandy, gamey and worn-out. When they came to what was Winnie’s house, the Headly adults kept a hand on each child, careful that they wouldn’t mess up the place or tire Winnie.

Donna and Jess were the most interested in Grace’s skating career. “I would give anything to see you skate,” Jess said.

“And I’d be happy to do that for you, but Troy might have a fit,” she said, smoothing a hand over her tummy. “It’s not as though I’d take a hard fall and hurt the baby, but he’s gotten very protective.”

“I have the matter taken care of,” Winnie said. “I had my assistant from San Francisco send us the DVDs.”

“Mother, you didn’t,” Grace said. “We can’t ask the whole family to watch home movies!”

“But we’d love to,” Donna said. “And after the baby comes, once you’re on your feet and have had a chance to practice a little, we want the real thing.”

“The girls are going to be so excited!” Jess said.

After a family dinner that Donna and Grace joined forces to cook, the women and kids sat around the great room with the DVDs playing on the big flat-screen, exclaiming over each jump, spiral, arabesque, axel and double axel. After just a few minutes, the men were on the deck with drinks, except for Mikhail, who was giving commentary on the skating. Pretty soon the little girls and Jess’s four-year-old son were twirling around the living room, making them all laugh.

Troy, Donna and Burt hustled everyone out of Winnie’s house before it was very late and Grace was able to help her mother get ready for bed.

“When we’re not in wedding mode, Lin Su will be able to settle me for the night,” Winnie said apologetically.

“I’m happy to do it, Mama.”

“I’ve had many reasons to resent this blasted condition, but I think tonight brought home to me the best reason to resent it.” She sighed. “I think you and Troy will have lots of children. I think you’ll be wonderful with them, even if you don’t have the stamina to turn them into great athletes.” She sniffed. “I hope heaven has a good window, Grace. I really want to watch them grow.”

“Oh, Mama...”

“We’re not going to snivel and drown in self-pity,” Winnie said. “Instead we’re going to get you married. You picked a good one. How you did that without my advice, I’ll never know.”

Grace laughed through sentimental tears. “It’s a wonder, isn’t it?”

“His family,” Winnie said. “Nice people. I think they like you.”

“I hope so.”

“They’re going to tell all their friends that you’re a champion,” Winnie said. “You’ll be a better mother than I was.”

“I’m not so sure about that...”

“Work on it, then. I was better than my mother, you’ll be better than I was, your daughters will be better than you. But Grace...Izzy,” she said, adding the name Grace had gone by as a girl. “Tell me one thing. I was a hard mother, I know, but did you ever doubt I loved you?”

Grace shook her head. “No. Your love was fierce.”

“Ah,” Winnie said, satisfied, settling back and letting her eyes close softly.

“A little controlling,” Grace added.

“A
little
?” came a voice from the bedroom doorway. Mikhail stood there watching them. He held up a DVD in a plastic sleeve. “If the Empress is ready for bed, we will watch another show together. Now the house is quiet and the little dancers have gone home to bed. I can tuck her in for you.”

“Do you feel up to it, Mama?” Grace asked.

“I’m fine, Grace. But you must be tired. I remember—that was the first thing about being a little pregnant—so tired. Go and rest. Leave any more cleanup to the baby’s father.”

Grace kissed her mother’s forehead while Mikhail settled into the comfy chair beside the bed.

Grace didn’t bother with anything in the kitchen or great room. She wasn’t too tired to think about the way things had turned out. She felt reasonably sure this ALS, with the limits it put on Winnie’s life, had softened her. Winnie had always been a difficult, stubborn woman; their relationship had been challenging. If Winnie wasn’t sick right now the chances were good that they’d be fighting over all these details—the wedding, the groom’s family, everything. That was the history they’d had—one power struggle after another with very brief periods of affection.

Now, when it was almost too late, Winnie was becoming the kind of mother Grace had always longed for. Tolerant. Warm.

Rather than cry about it, she’d be grateful for this. It was a gift.

* * *

Winnie sat up in the bed. The television was a gray blur; the DVD had stopped playing. She looked at her phone—it was the middle of the night. It was the snoring combined with her full bladder that had roused her. She turned on the light and stretched a leg toward Mikhail’s knee, giving him a kick.

He jolted awake, startled. “Shits of the gods,” he grumbled.

“You should go to bed. You’re snoring.”

“You are sure it wasn’t you, snoring?” he said.

“The snoring had a Russian accent. Go to bed,” she said, looking at her phone.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I call Grace when I have to get up, when I need something,” she said.

“Ach, let the girl rest. I will get what you need.”

She smirked. “The toilet?”

“I will take you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not peeing in front of you!”

“Of course not!” he barked. “I take you, you hold the bars, I leave, I close door, you sit, you make it rain, you do what you do—I suppose you don’t shake it off like a man. Then you can pull yourself up on the bars. Then what? Whistle?”

She was shocked silent for a moment. But then she smiled. “I’ll call Grace.”

“No, let the child sleep. You want I should get you some water?”

“First the bathroom,” she said, scooting to the very edge of the bed.

He stooped, put her slippers on her slender feet and pulled her up. “Lean on me,” he said. “I’m not a young man to carry you, but you can still walk ten steps. You’ll be fine, then back in the bed, yes?”

“Mikhail,” she said with a laugh. “Make it rain? Really?”

“You have trouble to understand meaning of this? I trust you know what to do.”

“I’m going to do it right here if you keep making me laugh,” she said.

“Please, no,” he said. “I am wearing the stocking feet.”

Winnie did all she could to comply, though a middle-of-the-night trip to the bathroom had never been so entertaining. She did as he suggested, holding the handicap rail beside the commode until he left. Then, adjusting her nightgown, lowered herself, made it rain—with a little laughter at the thought—and then stood. And flushed. Oh, how she wished she could whistle.

There was a little light tapping.

“Yes, come in. I’m waiting for you,” she said. “I’m going to get a whistle!”

“Shits of the gods,” he muttered. “Come, your highness,” he said, tucking her arm in his. “Is not good for your rest to have so much talking in the night. In bed you go. Come, come.”

He held the sheets back, lifted her feet to help her, took the slippers off and covered her up. Then he returned to the chair, pulled the throw over him and stretched his legs out. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Going again to sleep.”

“Go to bed! That’s uncomfortable!”

“Ach, is perfect. Is excellent. I never had better sleep. Stop with the talking.”

“You’ll never sleep!”

“You are correct! I will never sleep! Someone cannot shut her royal mouth! Enough!”

She looked at him for a long moment, then reluctantly turned off the light and lay down.

In the dark he said, “If I am right here, I’ll know if you’re dead,” he said.

“How will you know?” she asked.

“It will finally be quiet.”

* * *

Troy, his brother and dad, Cooper and Spencer, set up on the beach for the wedding. There were tables for the food, provided by Carrie. An arch that Iris and Ginger had covered with flowers had to be anchored. There was a stack of beach blankets that Cooper stored in the basement of the bar and a pile of canvas and aluminum beach chairs for people to use. There were a few picnic tables around, too heavy to move closer to the party but useful just the same.

The flower van was parked in the drive of Winnie’s house; the catering van would be parked on the beach as the time drew near. In addition to food and flowers, Cooper arranged for a couple of kegs and several large bottles of wine. Twenty or so people had been formally invited, another twenty-five had been informally invited, still another twenty-five would probably show up.

Troy was told to get ready downstairs in their little apartment while Grace would be on the main level with her mother. Because it was her mother’s event, too, a beautician had been called to do hair and makeup. Winnie could not have done it herself and God knew Grace couldn’t do it for her. Iris and Ginger came over early to bring flowers and help; Ginger brought the dress.

Several times during the week Grace had looked at her wedding gown, a work in progress. She’d tried it on a couple of times and been happy with it. It was so different now, less than an hour before the vows, Grace’s hair pulled back and caught up in curls that cascaded down in back, makeup finished. She stepped into the dress, Iris closed up the many small buttons in the back, and she turned toward the mirror on the inside of the closet door.

“Oh, my God,” Winnie said in a breath. “Stunning. Beyond stunning.”

“It’s beautiful, Ginger,” Iris said. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said a bit shyly. “It was a joy.”

“It almost looks like Pippa Middleton’s dress,” Grace said. “Oh, Ginger, I’m never going to be able to thank you properly for all you’ve done for me.”

“Well, that goes both ways,” she said. “I came to this little town to get a break, a changed perspective, and look what I found. A job I love, good friends, a new lease on life. A lot of that is made possible by you, Grace.”

“You do love that little flower shop,” she said. “You treat it like your own.”

“I love it,” she said. “If you think I could stay on awhile, I’m willing.”

“There’s a place for you as long as you want it.”

“Thank you, I’ve been very happy there. When the wedding is done and things calm down a little I might look for a small apartment or something. I should give Ray Anne her life back.” She laughed conspiratorially. “Ray Anne and Al must really have to plot to have any time alone together.”

Grace’s eyes lit up. “I know what I can do,” she said. “When the wedding is over and Troy’s family leaves, he’s giving up his apartment. There’s no point in paying rent there while we’re living here. The first thing we’re going to do is bring his big leather sectional and TV over here for our downstairs.”

“I’m going to need to find something furnished.”

Grace raised one brow. “Does it have to be large? Could a studio do the trick?”

“Sure. Of course. I hope I’ll continue to spend lots of time with Ray Anne and some of my new friends. It’s just where I hang my hat...”

“How about my loft above the store?” Grace asked. “Troy’s parents are using it while they’re in town, but soon it will be empty. I don’t have any plans for it.”

It was first shock and then her features were taken over by disbelief. “You’d let me rent it from you?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Ginger. I will only let you have it if you continue to work in the shop and it will be rent-free.”

“I couldn’t!” she protested. “That’s just too much.”

“Nonsense,” Winnie said. “What use does Grace have for it now? Well, we could store my furs there...”