One Wish (2 page)

At the age of twelve the level of competition turned serious. But Grace was winning everything in her age category and was quickly viewed as unbeatable. She trained on the ice several hours a day, took gymnastics, ballet and practiced yoga. The family moved from Atlanta to Chicago and finally settled in San Francisco, following the best opportunities for her training and education, as well as for Leon’s coaching prospects. Her father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer when Grace was fourteen. Winnie sought a tougher, stronger, more famous coach the moment Leon fell ill. It was almost as if she’d chosen Mikhail before he was needed. Then Leon passed away rather swiftly, within months of his diagnosis.

Winnie and Grace took a few days off, then it was back on the ice. “Your success meant everything to your father,” Winnie kept saying. It was true that Leon wanted the best for his daughter, but it was Winnie to whom winning was everything. No matter the personal cost. And skating became less for fun and more for life. Winnie blew a gasket whenever Grace didn’t take first place.

Grace left the world of competitive skating when she was twenty-three, right after the Vancouver Games. She went to Portland to stay with a sweet older couple who had once worked for her mother. Ross and Mamie Jenkins had known Grace since birth. They’d been part of Winnie’s staff, Ross a driver and Mamie in housekeeping. They had retired to open a flower shop a few years before Grace quit the circuit. When she needed them, they took her in.

She collapsed. She was exhausted and depressed and afraid of the future. Mamie pampered her and gave her time; it seemed as if she’d slept for a month. Then one evening Mamie spoke up. “If you lay around one more day, you won’t be able to walk. You have to do something—it’s your choice. Get a job, go to school, something.”

Grace didn’t want to be around people and she didn’t believe she had any marketable skills. So she started helping in the flower shop, in the back, learning to make beautiful bouquets and arrangements. Portland was a funky, interesting, welcoming city—not too big, not too small, not uppity or flashy. Little by little, Grace came out of the back room to deal with customers, sometimes delivering flowers, even helping Mamie and Ross with weddings. No one made a fuss over her or asked her a lot of questions.

Every time a major skating competition was covered by the mainstream or sports networks, Grace was glued to the TV, watching every move. And invariably there’d be some short vignette about Izzy Banks, the girl who had it all and threw it all away. “Izzy Banks, the brat on the ice, the fiercest competitor in figure skating, obviously couldn’t take the pressure,” one sportscaster noted of her.

Brat.
Boy, that stung.

Her mother would usually get in touch, proving that Winnie couldn’t ignore the competitions any more than Grace could. She’d pressure Grace to return home, return to skating, and the few conversations they had would end in a fight and they wouldn’t speak again for months.

A year before the 2014 Winter Games in Russia, when the dramatic story of her life might be publicly examined yet again, Grace went in search of a new place to settle and tackle life on her own. A little money had been set aside for her by her father and she found Pretty Petals, the shop Iris’s mother had owned. She’d been in Thunder Point almost a year when the winter competition took place. When Grace couldn’t watch it, she’d record it. There had been the usual newsy dish about the more stunning events of the life of Izzy Banks, but no one seemed to recognize Grace. There were, thankfully, more interesting sports scandals that year. And Thunder Point was more a football than figure skating town.

All she’d ever wanted was a life she could control. A life that didn’t include backbreaking labor, cruel rivals, endless travel across too many time zones, the occasional crazed fan or terrible loneliness. She wanted to know what it felt like to have real friends, not a staff of coaches, therapists, a security detail and competitors. She’d never had a boyfriend.

She did, however, have more than one gold medal. She’d won every significant competition in the world.

* * *

It drizzled in the days following Christmas, typical Oregon Coast weather in winter. Grace’s only part-time employee, a local married woman with a child in elementary school, came into the shop to resign. The woman’s life had grown too busy and complex, she complained. Grace knew it was going to create a challenge, even though all the woman had done was manage the front of the store. Grace was going to be back to doing it all, just as she had when the shop was new. She’d had the doorbell installed so she could lock the front door and go upstairs. The doorbell would buzz in her loft. And she could always close the shop to make deliveries when necessary. She’d ask around for a delivery boy.

Business was typically down the week following a holiday and the days were much shorter so Grace closed the shop at four one afternoon and drove out to Cooper’s for a beer. She wasn’t surprised to see Troy was back from visiting his family in Morro Bay. She was also not surprised that there was no one around the bar. People didn’t hang out on the beach in cold, wet weather like this. But she had to admit surprise at seeing a big pile of books and papers beside his laptop on the bar next to his cup of coffee. She jumped on a bar stool. “Welcome home. Did you have fun with the family?” she asked.

“More or less. My sister has three little undisciplined kids and I slept on her couch. It was brutal. What can I get you?”

“Beer?”

“Was that a question or order?” he asked.

“Beer, please.” She glanced at the books. “Homework?”

“Lesson plans,” he said, closing everything up, stacking it all and pushing it to one side. “We’re caught up in a couple of my classes so we’re going to have some fun. I’m going to offer them a chance for extra credit if they research the history of something that interests them—like a rock band or in-line skating or maybe a sport like kayaking. I’m writing up a few examples.”

“That almost sounds fun, but not enough fun. Did you get in any skiing over the holiday?”

“Nope,” he said, drawing her a draft. “We played some golf, but the weather wasn’t great. I might make a drive up to Mount Hood before I get back to work, maybe for a day. If I had more time and money I’d check out Tahoe. So, you were the maid of honor.”

“I was. Kind of short notice.”

“I heard it wasn’t exactly planned in advance...”

“That’s how I heard it, too. Iris said they decided and just did it. They got a marriage license, called a judge Seth knew, told Seth’s family and got it done. I didn’t even have time to order special flowers.” She sipped a little of her beer. “How are you handling it?”

“Fine,” he said.

“Good. That’s good.”

He leaned both hands on the bar. “I went out with my little brother and got roaring drunk. Then I bought a Jeep I can’t really afford.”

“Oh,” she said. “Gosh, I hope you don’t get your heart broken too often or you’ll go broke.”

“I’d wanted that Jeep anyway. And I deserved a good drunk.”

“Is that what caused...” She reached out toward the remnants of what looked like a healing bruise on his forehead.

He ducked away from her fingers. “I forgot I was sleeping on the couch, fell off and hit the coffee table.”

She couldn’t help herself. She laughed.

“And my heart isn’t broken,” he insisted. “Just a little coronary bruise. Gimme a week or two and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

Bullshit
, she thought. He looked completely miserable. “You’re very resilient,” she said. She sipped her beer.

“I guess we’ve all been there,” he said.

“Where?”

“Heartbreak hotel.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t think I have. I haven’t had my heart broken. Not by a guy, at least.”

Troy appeared to be momentarily frozen. “There’s no polite way to ask this, but has your heart been broken by a
girl
?”

She giggled. There were times, and this was one of them, that it would feel so good to dump the story on someone, explain how a heart can be broken by ruthless competitors or the media. “No, Troy. I’m perfectly straight. I’m into guys, I just haven’t been seriously involved. I guess it’s not in my nature to be tied down to one guy.”

“No boyfriend, then?”

“Are you fishing?” she asked. “I’ve had some terrific boyfriends, just nothing serious. No steadies, engagements or live-ins.”

“Why haven’t I ever met any of them?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I guess you weren’t around at the same time one of them was. I have a date later tonight, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh? What’s he like?” Troy asked.

“He’s kind of like a medieval knight, but has a gentle, sophisticated side. Big and brawny, very physical but disciplined. He’s also clever. Wise.”

“Fantastic,” Troy said. “Where are you going?”

“We’re staying in, actually. We might watch a movie.”

Troy lifted an eyebrow. “If I popped over unannounced, would I meet him?”

“Very probably. He’s a little possessive but I completely ignore that. Like I said, I’m not one to get serious. Let’s talk about your girlfriends.”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

She straightened. “Humph. Yet you expect me to!”

“I think you were bragging and maybe stretching the truth. You’re a little weird, Grace. The last time we hung out was Halloween and you were a witch, complete with missing teeth. And you put a hex on me.”

She smiled, remembering. She’d told him she was going to shrink his thing. “How’d that work out?”

“Turns out you’re not much of a witch. So when you say your heart was never broken...”

“Come on, I’ve had my share of disappointments like everyone else, just haven’t had a romance end badly. We can moan about our various letdowns another time, when we’re both drowning our sorrows and feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s not do that now, okay? I have a feeling if you get started...”

“Did Iris ask you to check on me?”

“Absolutely not. She said you were very grown-up and wished her every happiness. And I must say, buying a Jeep you can’t afford is definitely mature.” Then she grinned at him.

“It’s a great Jeep. Maybe I’ll take you off-road in it sometime. Besides, I only have one person to worry about so if I have trouble paying the bills, it’s not like I’m taking milk out of the baby’s mouth.”

She leaned her head on her hand. “You’re all about fun, aren’t you, Troy?”

“I work two jobs, Grace. I like to think of myself as active.”

“And your favorite activity is?”

“It’s a toss-up between diving and white-water rafting or kayaking. One of the things that brought me to Oregon is the great river trips. I was torn between Colorado, Idaho and Oregon. Oregon had the job. In a town on the water.”

“And you’re a teacher for the time off?”

“And the high pay,” he said, smiling.

“Iris says you’re the most dedicated teacher she knows,” Grace said.

“Iris should raise her standards.”

“Okay, so you’re still a little pissy.”

“I said I’d need a week or two,” he reminded her. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “What’s your favorite thing to do with time off?”

She didn’t answer right away. “I need more balance in my life,” she finally said. “That shop gets too much of my time. But it’s a good workout.”

“Flower arranging?” he asked doubtfully.

“I beg your pardon! I stand all day, haul heavy buckets full of fresh-cut flowers in water, deliver hundreds of pounds of arrangements to weddings and other events, get in and out of the back of that van all day, lift heavy pots and props and that’s before I have to clean up and do the books. It’s not for sissies.”

“And for fun?”

“I like to dance,” she said. “I don’t very often, but it’s fun.”

“I bet you were a cheerleader,” he said.

“I was
never
a cheerleader. I think I could’ve been. But I wasn’t interested.”

“You are the first girl in the history of the world, then.”

“I’m sure I’m not,” she said. “When I was that age I was into ballet, sort of. They are not the same moves at all. That, like flower arranging, takes strength. Plus, I have a bike.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A Harley?”

“A mountain bike. Retired for the winter due to ice, rain, cold and slick roads.” She drank the rest of her beer and put her money on the bar. “I’d love to stay and keep you company but I have a date.” She started for the door and turned back to him. “I’m glad you’re doing well, Troy. I’d like to see what that Jeep can do off-road. Maybe when the weather warms up. And dries up.”

“It’s a date,” he said.

But Grace knew it wasn’t a date. She went back to the shop but didn’t go inside. She went upstairs to her apartment, put some leftover lasagna from Carrie’s deli into the microwave, changed into her soft pajamas and turned on the TV. While her lasagna cooled on the plate she went through the channel guide and settled on some reruns until her favorite shows came on. With her dinner on a tray and her e-reader in her hand, she opened an old and beloved book—
The Wolf and the Dove
—and settled in with Wulfgar, her medieval knight.

She loved him. And she trusted him.

Two

W
hen Cooper asked Troy about his plans for New Year’s Eve, Troy agreed to work. He hadn’t gone skiing and was getting a little bored—might as well make money. Even though the night was clear and cold, it was a party night and Cooper’s wasn’t where the party was. Cliff was packing a full house at his restaurant and would stay open past midnight to accommodate his revelers, but Cooper’s on the beach didn’t have patrons past eight o’clock.

At a little after eight Troy locked up and walked next door to Cooper’s house and brought him the contents of the till. Cooper and his wife, Sarah, were bundled up and had been sitting on the deck where an outdoor hearth blazed under a star-studded black sky. “I hear Cliff is going to shoot off some fireworks over the bay if the wind stays down,” Cooper said. “If we’re awake, we’ll have the best seats in town. The problem with having a house like this—you never want to leave it.”

“You look pretty comfortable. The fireworks might wake you up,” Troy said.

“We had invitations for New Year’s Eve,” he said.

“I’m sure,” Troy said, grinning. “Getting old, Cooper?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. But look at you—working tonight and all washed up before nine...”

Troy was ready to move on. “I’m going to stop at the store, grab a six-pack and drop in on a friend.”

“Let me save you a trip,” Cooper said. He got up, went to the refrigerator and pulled out a six of Heineken bottles. “Will this cut it?”

“I wasn’t going to spend that much,” Troy said with a laugh. “What do I owe you?”

“Gimme a break,” Cooper said, waving him off. “Just get outta here and happy New Year. I hope the friend is female.”

“She’s female, but just a friend. I hope she’s home or I’ll end up at my apartment alone with a six-pack like a loser,” Troy replied.

“I guess calling ahead didn’t cross your mind?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Troy said. “Like I said, nothing special. Just a friend.”

But Troy
had
thought about it. He was completely prepared to find Grace not at home and he didn’t really care. Or she could be entertaining, which he’d kind of like to interrupt. Since Grace never brought out these boyfriends, he figured the only way he was likely to get a glimpse of one was to surprise her. What he’d really like to know was if Grace was as lonely as he was. Because two lonely people could negotiate a deal that would get them through. Why not?

He’d been thinking about her for the past couple of days, ever since she stopped by Cooper’s while he was working. Grace had been in Thunder Point a little longer than he had, but he was just discovering her. He’d run across her a few times with Iris; she made him laugh. She was cute. Pretty, actually, but not the kind of gorgeous or sexy that slapped him upside the head. If he was honest with himself, women like that made him nervous. Grace had a wholesome look about her, kind of freshly scrubbed and glowing. She was very small, like a woman in a girl’s body. But when she started talking, all traces of the girl vanished—she was clever and had a sassy, cynical wit. There was a sharp edge to her, like she’d lived a lot. She was full of the devil.

He privately acknowledged he was looking for a woman to spend some time with. The truth was, he hadn’t often been without one. This might be one of his longest stretches; he’d been too damn focused on a woman he couldn’t have. He wasn’t above brief liaisons but he preferred something a little steadier. For that, he had pretty rigid standards. First of all, appearance was important. Not the only criteria, but someone who made an effort, put her best foot forward, kept up her looks. Next, she had to like to play. Troy loved extreme sports and it was not required that a woman he was dating be into the extreme, but it was important she liked trying new things, liked being outside, enjoyed physical activity. Iris had fit those requirements. She appreciated the outdoors, liked hiking, biking, paddle boarding. And she’d liked watching his videos of his own more adventurous experiences. She’d covered her eyes sometimes, but she’d watched his white-water challenges, rock climbing, diving with sharks, whales, squid.

Troy wanted a woman who was a good sport, at least. Of course she had to be intelligent and have a sense of humor. And since he was on the rebound, it was probably a good idea if she wasn’t the clingy, needy type. That made Grace, who didn’t get serious, a contender. She seemed to be casually dating someone and that sort of thing was usually a turnoff, but not at the moment.

He knocked on her second-floor apartment door, not really expecting her to answer. He saw the curtain move and then the door opened. She was wearing yoga pants, heavy socks, an oversize, long-sleeved T-shirt and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He tilted his head and smiled at her. “You don’t have a date tonight?”

“Well, not at the moment.”

Troy tried looking past her. “Is the medieval knight here?”

She put a hand on her hip. “Did you want to come in, Troy?”

He lifted the six-pack. “If you’re not too busy. I brought beer. Sorry, I should’ve called.”

She held the door open for him. “I’m surprised
you
don’t have a date.”

“It’s not like I’m desperate,” he said, entering. He held out a beer for her, took one for himself, then opened her little refrigerator to stow the rest. “Oh-oh,” he said. It was stuffed. Small to begin with, there was no room for a six-pack.

“Here, I’ll do it.” Some maneuvering was involved in getting four bottles of beer into the little fridge and ditching the cardboard pack.

“You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Come in, Troy,” she said, moving through the dinky kitchen to the couch.

There was a movie on Pause and a plate of something snacky on the coffee table. He peered at it.

“Pizza rolls. I was just watching a chick flick but it’ll keep. Now what’s up with you? And take off your shoes.”

He did as he was told, then sat on the far end of the couch. “Really, nothing. I worked at Cooper’s, which is why I don’t have a date or anything. It was dead tonight, and it was still early. I had about three choices—Cliff’s, Waylan’s or your place.”

“You could have taken that new Jeep up to North Bend or even Bandon. Found a lively bar. Party a little.” She picked up the plate and offered him a pizza roll.

“Thanks.” He chewed it and nodded. “Not bad. I didn’t feel like dealing with a bunch of strangers,” he said. “I just felt like some company before I go home.” He grinned at her. “And I thought maybe I’d run into one of your boyfriends.”

“Oh, so that’s your ulterior motive and the reason you didn’t call. I didn’t want to go out tonight. I went for a run.”

“A run? You don’t get enough exercise?”

“Short hours in the shop today. The nice thing about being a one-person operation, I can close early or open late if I want as long as I have a cell number for the shop. That way I can take orders anytime. In fact, if I’m available and someone needs something, I can run downstairs and make up an arrangement. But I knew there wouldn’t be any calls tonight and, God, it was beautiful on the beach. There were a few people out there—Sarah Cooper and her dog, a couple of teenagers, one older couple I’ve never met—maybe part-timers. And me. I like to work out, but there isn’t a gym around here that matches my oddball hours.”

“You work out?” he asked.

“Not regularly. Just a bike ride or jog. I don’t lift anymore—my arms and legs get enough of a workout in the shop. My flower girl calisthenics are enough. I add cardio just so I can drink a beer and eat pizza rolls.” She offered him the last one. After putting the empty plate back on the coffee table, she curled into her corner of the sofa, her knees under her chin. “Tell me about Christmas, tell me about your family. Are you close?”

“I guess. As long as we don’t have too much togetherness.”

“What does that mean?”

He took a pull on his beer. “I love my family. I do. We don’t all get together that often and when we’re gearing up for a family thing, I get excited. Then on the third or fourth day I want to kill my sister and shove my brother in a hole.”

She sat forward a little. “Really?”

“My sister can be a bossy bitch and my brother is a screwup. Jess was married at nineteen and they started trying to repopulate the world—my niece was born when Jess was twenty. Then came a nephew and another niece and she thinks she runs a tight ship but if you ask me, the ship is sinking. The kids are out of control, my brother-in-law, Rick, works as much overtime as he can—he’s a firefighter—the house is upside down and I think Rick likes the firehouse because it’s the only place there’s enough quiet to watch a game. And my brother, Sam, can be such an idiot. He’s twenty-one going on seven and my mother would cut his meat for him if she could. He’s spoiled and irresponsible. He doesn’t even walk his plate to the sink and he has to eat on the hour. He looks in the refrigerator and sees eight slices of leftover pizza, so does he ask if anyone wants some? Of course not—he eats them all.”

Her eyes were large. “Should I be sorry I asked?”

Troy took a breath. “Nah, I’m just coming off another successful family gathering. I should’ve stayed in the motel with my folks—it gets a little tight at my sister’s”

“Your parents stayed in a motel? Why?”

“Because they’re smart! But take ’em one day at a time and they’re great, they’re really great. Jess’s kids might be loud and messy and hyperactive, but they’re also
happy
! Rick’s such a great guy, I don’t know how Jess captured him. And when I got moody and wouldn’t tell anyone what was bothering me, Sam took me out on the town. Not that it’s much of a town. We must’ve hit three whole bars. Of course Sam wasn’t really trying to cheer me up as much as he was hoping to get laid, but then...” His voice trailed off.

“Then...?” she asked.

“When I was twenty-one, that was always foremost on my mind. No apologies.”

She giggled. “And now?”

“Not
always
foremost.”

“So you love your family, when you don’t hate them?”

“I’m crazy about them all the time—we just get on each other’s nerves. We’re typical, I think. I’ll say this—half the time I want to punch my brother and slap my sister, but if anyone ever laid a hand on either one of them, I’d take ’em out. Really, I don’t know how my folks lived through us. What about your family?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she got up, took the plate and her bottle to the little kitchen area, retrieved two fresh beers and returned to her corner of the couch. “There’s very little to tell. My father died when I was fourteen and I’m an only child. My grandparents are gone, one set before I was even born and the other set before I was eighteen. There are some very distant relatives, but if I met some of them even once, I don’t remember. I did get a letter from someone who claimed to be a cousin or half cousin or something, but he only wanted a loan.” She laughed. “He apparently didn’t know anything about me.”

“How did you respond?”

She smiled. “I wrote back that it was very kind of him to reach out, but I wasn’t making loans at this time.”

“No one, huh?” he asked. “Your mother?”

“Also gone,” she lied, looking away. She just wasn’t willing to get into all that. Plus, she’d told Iris that she was alone. “There are friends, but probably not as many as you have. The couple who owned the flower shop in Portland where I worked, we’re close and stay in touch. I talk to them every week and visit now and then. They not only trained me in the shop but took me under their wing. Good people. They’re in their sixties and never had children, which probably explains why they think of me as family, though we’re not. And there are a couple of other friends who also stay in touch—Mikhail, to name one, but he travels all the time so I never see him. That might be one of the reasons I became good friends with Iris—we have that absence of family in common. And there’s the fact that I bought her flower shop, of course. Sometimes I look at people like Iris...and...well, you—and I feel a little abnormal, like I should try harder...”

“Iris? And me?”

“You’re both so connected to people. Iris doesn’t have family, but she has more good friends than anyone I know. The whole town loves her. The school definitely leans on her. And your family isn’t around here, but I bet you talk to them every week.”

“Pretty much,” he admitted.

“You’re really involved with people, too. The school, Cooper’s, even Waylan’s. All over town, people yell hello! But the reality is, I was raised an only child, had a very solitary upbringing and I’m probably a little too comfortable being alone.”

“People around here are pretty friendly to you, aren’t they?”

“They are. That’s what I love about this town. But I’m kind of a loner.”

“But you’ve had a lot of boyfriends,” he reminded her.

“This is true. And they’ve all been amazing. I spend time with a guy who actually owns a plantation in South Carolina, a guy with a British title of some kind—viscount I think. There’s Malone—he owns a lobster boat on the East Coast, there’s a bar owner, a guy in the ski patrol, a navy SEAL...very interesting, sexy guys. But I own a flower shop—my time is precious.”

He tilted his head and peered at her. “I think you’re bullshitting me, Grace.”

She got off the couch and went to the wall unit, opening a cupboard under the TV and there, lined up neatly, was a tidy row of books—paperbacks and a few hardcovers. Below the books was a similar collection of DVDs. She left the doors standing open and went back to the couch. She gracefully extended a hand toward the bookcase. “My keeper shelves. From medieval knights to navy SEALs. And there’s Wrath...I’m afraid he’s a vampire, but a very nice and sexy vampire. They’re all mine.”

“Should we have a little talk about your medication, Gracie?”

She smiled. “I know they’re pretend boyfriends, Troy. But they never cheat and I haven’t had to get one single screening for an STD.” Then she giggled. “I don’t have space for a lot of storage and books so I do most of my reading on an e-reader, but I have a special collection there. I can’t be without them. What would I do if my e-reader wasn’t charged or I lost it?”