One Wish
Page 48
They set out at about one o’clock on Sunday. The resort was a beautiful place with lodges, cabins and rooms, not to mention fine dining and gorgeous facilities that could be reserved for everything from weddings to business meetings. There were three golf courses and it was expensive. People traveled from all over the country to stay there. And they liked Grace’s flowers. They didn’t use her all the time, but when a guest had a special function that required flowers, they recommended her. She billed the resort and they paid promptly.
She had the unit number for the cottage where the flowers were to be delivered and she knew her way around the country club. As they drove through the property, she had to slow for a couple of deer crossing the road.
“Cottage?” Troy asked.
“I know,” she said, laughing. “I looked it up online. Living room, four bedrooms, galley kitchen, fireplaces in every room, plus four bathrooms. And a view.”
“I’d kill to live in a house that big,” he said.
She backed up to the unit. “You take one, I’ll take one and we’ll go back for the other two. Try not to gawk too much.”
“It’ll be hard.”
She was proud of the flowers she’d put together—lilies, orchids, bird of paradise, roses, baby’s breath and greenery. She balanced her arrangement on one hand and rang the bell. Troy waited right behind her with his flowers. In a moment the door opened. Grace looked into the blue eyes of Winnie Dillon Banks and dropped her floral arrangement. The ceramic dish shattered and water splashed on her jeans, but the flowers stayed in a lump because she had fastened them into the base with tape.
“Mother!”
“Izzy,” she said smoothly.
“Holy shitballs,” Troy said.
There stood the indomitable Winnie, small like Grace, ivory skin, black hair and red lips. She could double for Snow White. Except for the expression, which was not sweet. No, he couldn’t see Winnie singing to the birdies in the forest. But she was so beautiful. And she radiated power.
Troy noticed that Grace began to tremble a little. She must feel so vulnerable in front of her mother.
“Please come inside, Izzy,” she said. “I’ll arrange for that to be cleaned up.”
“What are you doing here? Why?”
“I need to see you. Talk to you. You can send your helper away. I’ll make sure you have transportation.”
“He’s not my helper! He’s my boyfriend! What the hell is this? Why didn’t you call me, tell me you were in the area?”
“Because you wouldn’t have seen me,” she said.
“Precisely. Because I am dead to you, remember?”
“Look, I take it back. I take it all back. Izzy, you have to give this a chance. I only want to help you!”
“Fine. You’d be helping by acting like a normal mother. That means you communicate. You call and ask if I’m available to visit with you. And if this is about returning to professional skating, there’s no need to waste your time.”
“I only want what’s best for you. I want you settled! Let me help.”
“I am settled!”
“Working in a flower shop!”
“My flower shop, my business, that I built on my own!”
Grace stooped and began to pick up the flowers, sans ceramic dish. She stood, holding most of the arrangement, and kicked the broken pieces off the walk and into the bushes. “Where do you want this?”
“The patio?” Winnie said, standing aside.
Grace walked in and Troy followed her. Winnie tried to stop him by holding out her hands for the flowers he carried. “I’ll take that,” she said.
He ignored her and put them down on the first available surface, the small breakfast table.
A woman stood near the patio doors. She was around fifty, very short reddish-brown hair, casually dressed in slacks and a sweater.
“Thank you, Virginia, you can go back to what you were doing. And you can leave us, young man. This business is between me and my daughter.”
“I’m not leaving,” he said.
“Just tell me what you want, Mother,” Grace said when she came back from the patio.
“I’m not comfortable talking in front of a stranger.”
“Oh, forgive me, Winnie,” Grace said. “This is my boyfriend, Troy Headly. He came with me to help me deliver these bogus flowers. You might as well spit it out because I’m going to tell him everything we say to each other anyway.”
Winnie sank into the nearest chair. “I thought we could have a conversation.” She appeared to be near tears. “You’re all I have left.”
“That isn’t my fault. I’m done skating, I haven’t changed my mind about that.”
“There are other options. I get emails and calls all the time. You could report on the competitions. CBS or ESPN would take you to the Games! You could coach! You could consult! Hell, the committee would be thrilled to have you! There are so many things...”
“No,” she said. “No, no, no. I’m done. I don’t want to coach, don’t want to push young girls the way I was pushed! I don’t want to report on the sport, critique and label figure skaters the way I was labeled. I don’t want to consult or serve on any related committees.”
“But you still skate!”
Grace was stunned. How did she know? “For pleasure, to keep in shape, and that’s all. I don’t want to skate professionally or work in the industry.”
“But why? It’s what you know!” Winnie said pleadingly. “It was our life!”
“Because I don’t love it enough to give so much of myself. I’m very grateful that I had such wonderful opportunities, but it’s time to move on. I’m retired from that life. I have a new life.”
Winnie stood. “You’ll have children,” she said, her voice shaking a little bit. “A daughter. She’ll be born with it, like you were. Will you forbid her?”
“If I’m lucky enough to have a daughter someday, I’ll support her, but I’m not going to ride herd on her twenty-four hours a day. I’m not going to expect her to live out my dream. I’m going to tell you for the hundredth time, the only way we can communicate is if you give this up!”
“Are you really happier, Izzy? Living in a tiny room over a flower shop, toiling seven days a week to make centerpieces for people you don’t even know? You have a legacy. Your time is nearly up—if you wait many more years, these opportunities will dry up and you’ll be forgotten!”
She had the unit number for the cottage where the flowers were to be delivered and she knew her way around the country club. As they drove through the property, she had to slow for a couple of deer crossing the road.
“Cottage?” Troy asked.
“I know,” she said, laughing. “I looked it up online. Living room, four bedrooms, galley kitchen, fireplaces in every room, plus four bathrooms. And a view.”
“I’d kill to live in a house that big,” he said.
She backed up to the unit. “You take one, I’ll take one and we’ll go back for the other two. Try not to gawk too much.”
“It’ll be hard.”
She was proud of the flowers she’d put together—lilies, orchids, bird of paradise, roses, baby’s breath and greenery. She balanced her arrangement on one hand and rang the bell. Troy waited right behind her with his flowers. In a moment the door opened. Grace looked into the blue eyes of Winnie Dillon Banks and dropped her floral arrangement. The ceramic dish shattered and water splashed on her jeans, but the flowers stayed in a lump because she had fastened them into the base with tape.
“Mother!”
“Izzy,” she said smoothly.
“Holy shitballs,” Troy said.
There stood the indomitable Winnie, small like Grace, ivory skin, black hair and red lips. She could double for Snow White. Except for the expression, which was not sweet. No, he couldn’t see Winnie singing to the birdies in the forest. But she was so beautiful. And she radiated power.
Troy noticed that Grace began to tremble a little. She must feel so vulnerable in front of her mother.
“Please come inside, Izzy,” she said. “I’ll arrange for that to be cleaned up.”
“What are you doing here? Why?”
“I need to see you. Talk to you. You can send your helper away. I’ll make sure you have transportation.”
“He’s not my helper! He’s my boyfriend! What the hell is this? Why didn’t you call me, tell me you were in the area?”
“Because you wouldn’t have seen me,” she said.
“Precisely. Because I am dead to you, remember?”
“Look, I take it back. I take it all back. Izzy, you have to give this a chance. I only want to help you!”
“Fine. You’d be helping by acting like a normal mother. That means you communicate. You call and ask if I’m available to visit with you. And if this is about returning to professional skating, there’s no need to waste your time.”
“I only want what’s best for you. I want you settled! Let me help.”
“I am settled!”
“Working in a flower shop!”
“My flower shop, my business, that I built on my own!”
Grace stooped and began to pick up the flowers, sans ceramic dish. She stood, holding most of the arrangement, and kicked the broken pieces off the walk and into the bushes. “Where do you want this?”
“The patio?” Winnie said, standing aside.
Grace walked in and Troy followed her. Winnie tried to stop him by holding out her hands for the flowers he carried. “I’ll take that,” she said.
He ignored her and put them down on the first available surface, the small breakfast table.
A woman stood near the patio doors. She was around fifty, very short reddish-brown hair, casually dressed in slacks and a sweater.
“Thank you, Virginia, you can go back to what you were doing. And you can leave us, young man. This business is between me and my daughter.”
“I’m not leaving,” he said.
“Just tell me what you want, Mother,” Grace said when she came back from the patio.
“I’m not comfortable talking in front of a stranger.”
“Oh, forgive me, Winnie,” Grace said. “This is my boyfriend, Troy Headly. He came with me to help me deliver these bogus flowers. You might as well spit it out because I’m going to tell him everything we say to each other anyway.”
Winnie sank into the nearest chair. “I thought we could have a conversation.” She appeared to be near tears. “You’re all I have left.”
“That isn’t my fault. I’m done skating, I haven’t changed my mind about that.”
“There are other options. I get emails and calls all the time. You could report on the competitions. CBS or ESPN would take you to the Games! You could coach! You could consult! Hell, the committee would be thrilled to have you! There are so many things...”
“No,” she said. “No, no, no. I’m done. I don’t want to coach, don’t want to push young girls the way I was pushed! I don’t want to report on the sport, critique and label figure skaters the way I was labeled. I don’t want to consult or serve on any related committees.”
“But you still skate!”
Grace was stunned. How did she know? “For pleasure, to keep in shape, and that’s all. I don’t want to skate professionally or work in the industry.”
“But why? It’s what you know!” Winnie said pleadingly. “It was our life!”
“Because I don’t love it enough to give so much of myself. I’m very grateful that I had such wonderful opportunities, but it’s time to move on. I’m retired from that life. I have a new life.”
Winnie stood. “You’ll have children,” she said, her voice shaking a little bit. “A daughter. She’ll be born with it, like you were. Will you forbid her?”
“If I’m lucky enough to have a daughter someday, I’ll support her, but I’m not going to ride herd on her twenty-four hours a day. I’m not going to expect her to live out my dream. I’m going to tell you for the hundredth time, the only way we can communicate is if you give this up!”
“Are you really happier, Izzy? Living in a tiny room over a flower shop, toiling seven days a week to make centerpieces for people you don’t even know? You have a legacy. Your time is nearly up—if you wait many more years, these opportunities will dry up and you’ll be forgotten!”
