He reached for her hand. “We have some things in common. But Ginger, once we’ve gone over the details of all this crap in our rearview mirrors, we’re going to talk about other things.”

She squeezed his hand across the table. “Like what?”

“Like, can you still make little houses? Do you read anything I might like? Is there time in your life for adventure? Would you have a dog? Or a cat? Or a bird? Are you sensitive to insect bites?”

She laughed at his questions and the twinkle in her eyes was back that fast. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have working dogs, a bunch of ’em. I don’t even know how many. They’re mostly with George—they mind the sheep. There’s a golden and a black Lab around the orchard—they hunt and keep predators away from the chickens. There are no animals in the house.”

“Well, I want a dog in the house,” she said. “On the bed, in fact. And on the sofa! I want a good old happy dog who looks at me with sad loving eyes no matter how late I get home...”

“And dog hair in the soup.”

“And dog hair in the soup,” she agreed, laughing.

He lifted his beer. “You’re all right, Ginger,” he said before taking a drink.

The conversation blessedly turned from bad marriages and other catastrophes to family humor—what her brothers did to her miniature people and houses, what his sisters did to him. Peyton and Ginny were older and tried to dress up the little boys like dolls and make them play roles as their babies. He had her laughing hysterically at the tales of ten people and one bathroom. She told of the fun game her older brothers had of tossing her back and forth, until someone missed and she broke an arm. Matt told of numerous fractures on the farm, all from doing things they were forbidden to do, like swing on the rope in the barn from the loft to the ground.

They had each driven their own vehicles to the restaurant so that when Ginger went home Matt could just head north to his apartment. He walked her to her car and stood with her right outside the driver’s door. He put his forehead against her forehead. “For the first time in a long time, I’m a little bit happy. Because you’re my friend,” he said.

“Me, too. Will you do something for me?”

“Sure, Ginger. What do you need?”

“When you get home tonight will you give me a call? Just so I know you made it without problems. I promise not to keep you on the phone.”

“Sure,” he said. He looked at his watch. “I’ll be waking you up in about four hours.”

When he called her, it was already after eleven. And then they talked for two hours.

* * *

Thank God for Ginger, Grace thought for the millionth time. She was in charge of the flower shop while Grace was at the new house preparing a nice dinner for her mother and Mikhail. And sadly, she was hoping that Winnie would prove to be too fatigued to be argumentative, demanding or feisty, because there were things she had to be told right away.

Oh, how she hoped her mother liked the house. They’d all worked so hard.

Troy had gone to the airport to fetch them. Winnie and Mikhail had come by private jet. She was standing in the kitchen when she heard the garage door slide up, the hum of the Jeep as Troy pulled in and she went to the kitchen door. She saw Troy get out and go around to the passenger side. He lifted Winnie into his strong arms and carried her into the house.

“We’re here,” he announced to Grace. “Let the party begin!”

And Winnie, God bless her, blushed and slapped at him. “Stop it, Troy! My partying days are long over.”

Grace kissed her cheek while Troy still held her very capably. “I’m so glad you’re here. How do you feel?”

“Oh, you know. Just always so tired.” And then she looked around the great room and kitchen. “Very nice, Grace,” she said.

And Grace felt every tight muscle in her body relax. She was surprised she didn’t sink to the floor in sheer relief.

Troy put Winnie on her feet then helped her to the chair near the open French doors, facing the ocean, and Grace pushed the ottoman over, lifting her feet up. Winnie shrugged out of her wrap while Grace sat on the ottoman and pulled off her mother’s shoes. She held Winnie’s feet in her lap and gently massaged them.

“You used to do this for me when I had a long day of skating,” Grace said.

“Seems so long ago now,” Winnie said.

“You’ll want to see the rest of the house but we’ll take it a little bit at a time. It’s actually a large house, but everything you need is on this floor. I’ve cooked us a little dinner...”

“I’m not very hungry, darling,” she said.

“I have a little soup if you’re tired and don’t want much to eat. But I hope you have enough energy to hear some news. It’s going to be a little exciting around here soon—and we’ll try to keep it manageable with regard to your health. We’re going to get married, Mama. We want to get married anyway but we’re going to put a little rush on it because I’m pregnant.” She covered her belly with one hand. “Due around Christmas.”

Winnie looked up and over her shoulder at Troy. “You do realize she’s never been in a relationship before, don’t you?”

Troy’s eyes shone. He gave a nod. “She’s very good at it,” he said.

“And she obviously knows nothing about birth control,” Winnie added.

“Or I don’t,” Troy suggested.

“I’m just going to let all that go,” Grace said. “It won’t be flashy, Mama. I think we’ll get married on the beach, right in front of the house, as soon as possible. School is out soon. While you’re still up and about and can enjoy it if you squeeze in a good nap. Troy’s family will come but I think they’ll stay in town, maybe at his apartment and my loft above the store. I promise to keep your stress low.”

“My dress,” Winnie said. “You’ll want my dress!”

Grace shook her head. “It’s not necessary. I’ll find something much simpler.”

“My dress is simple. We can take off the train and pitch the head gear. I hated that head gear anyway. My mother insisted on that. You need something more your style. But the dress is one of a kind.”

“I wouldn’t want to get sand and sea all over it...”