“I spent the day with her yesterday. The first day I’ve spent with her in five years. She looks very beautiful, but she’s thinner and has aged. I think it’s the stress of knowing she’s battling ALS and is losing. The tremors and weakness are obvious and she said this is just within the past few months. She has no idea how much time she has. She’s taking a drug to slow the progression but she’s cynical—she doesn’t see how it matters. She said, ‘What good is three more months?’ All she wants to do is clean house, so to speak. Settle her affairs. Get the end of her life in order, but this would mean in order to her satisfaction. It’s not as though she can control it from the grave.” She bit her lips against the threat of tears.

“If anyone can do that, is Winifred,” he grumbled. “I am afraid she has contract with God.”

That brought a laugh from Grace. Spurts of laughter through tears had become common the past few days. “We never communicated, Mikhail. She instructed, criticized, praised, but we never talked about our feelings. I talked with my therapist or Mamie. Now I understand that Winnie wasn’t ready to retire when I was. It destroyed her.”

“There is the thing with athletes and their mothers.” He peered at her. “The mother is not doing skating. She can’t make decisions like that. She is there for cheering, no more. It is not about Winifred. Unless she wants to take on the ice, then it is not about her. Is about you.”

“I wish I’d understood,” Grace said.

“You understood,” he said. “You knew. You did the right thing. Is time to have life for yourself.” He looked around the van. “In flower mobile.”

Grace pulled into a grocery store lot not far from the resort in Bandon. It occurred to her that since Mikhail wanted some fruit, she could pick up a couple of things for later. Troy would probably come over after his evening at Cooper’s. They walked into the grocery store and Grace went immediately to the deli and bakery while Mikhail presumably went to the produce section. When she went looking for him he was holding a bottle of vodka and looking a little lost.

“Have you found your fruit?” she asked.

“Where is raisins?”

“Raisins? Let’s see,” she said, walking down an aisle and around a central counter. “Ah. Raisins.”

He selected a big box of plump golden raisins. “Wow. You like your raisins,” she said.

“Fruit of the gods,” he told her.

“Would you like some apples? Oranges? Bananas?”

“Good to go,” he said, heading for the checkout.

“Are raisins your favorite snack?” she asked.

“Put raisins in the vodka, let sit overnight, perfect.”

“Ah,” she said, laughing at his pronunciation. “And then you eat the raisins?”

“Nyet! Drink the vodka!”

She was a little shocked, even though she had remembered that Mikhail liked his wodka, especially after the trials or competitions were done. She laughed softly. “Right,” she said.

* * *

Virginia let them into the cottage and then discreetly left the room. Winnie was standing beside the sofa. There was a tray of hors d’oeuvres on a small table, a couple of wineglasses sitting out and an ice bucket.

Mikhail dropped his duffel and put his grocery bag on the short counter in the little galley kitchen before entering and going to Winnie. “Winifred, this is lie I am told, that you are sick.” He put his hands on her face and kissed her cheeks. In high society they stuck to air-kissing, but Mikhail always gave the real thing in loud smacks. “You are beautiful.”

“It’s all fading,” she said.

“Sit down, my dove. You are tired? Weak?”

“Things don’t work like they once did but I’m getting by fine. Can we get you something? Food? Drink?”

“Ice,” he said. “A glass and ice.” He brought his grocery bag to the chair adjacent to her and pulled out his bottle of vodka, putting it on the coffee table. Grace quickly fixed his glass for him.

“As refined as ever,” Winnie quipped.

Grace took one of the chairs near them. It had the feel of a reunion, the way these two poked at each other, but the affection between them was so obvious.

“Is perfect,” he said. “What do we give you?”

“I’m fine, Mikhail. After you’ve had a drink, we can order some dinner. Grace,” she said. “Will you have dinner? A glass of wine?”

“Nothing for me. I have a drive ahead.”

“And your young man?” Winnie asked.

Mikhail peered at her.

“He’s working tonight, his part-time job. I’ll see him later.”

“Grace is in love with a schoolteacher,” Winnie said.

“You could not find her a prince or dictator?” Mikhail asked with a smirk.

“I choose my own men,” Grace said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go home now so you can visit. I have to open the shop in the morning, Mother. I have a new employee coming early to train. If you’re feeling well, maybe you’ll come and look at my little town?”

“Let’s see what the morning brings, Grace.” Then she shook her head. “This new name. It just doesn’t fit you.”

“You’ll get used to it.” She gave her mother a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

* * *

Left alone, Mikhail fetched the tray of snacks and placed it on the coffee table, within reach. He sampled a small toast square with tapenade and hummed his approval. He sipped his drink. “What is your plan, Winnie?” he asked.

“Plan?”

“Do not do this coy with me, it is Mikhail you talk to. You have plan. Like always.”

“I want to take Izzy to San Francisco. Home. But she doesn’t want to go.”

“Then why? Leave the child to have her life. She will visit.”

“There’s an estate to settle. A complicated estate. Furnishings, jewelry, art, investments. I can’t wave my wand and have it done. It’s hers. She has decisions to make. I don’t know what she wants to do with all of it. I can’t just leave it behind.”

“Ah, you will take it with you?” He chuckled and sipped his vodka. “If anyone can, is you.”

“I just want to make sure it’s all properly dealt with. All the possessions.”

“She looks better than I’ve ever seen her,” Mikhail said. “I think it is because the weight of all the world is not on her back. All the burdens of the world—gone. The need to win for her mother, for her team, her country, is done now. Behind her. And she thrives. That is your legacy, Winnie—Izzy. She is your estate. Think on this.”

“I have a responsibility...”

“She has had hard life, working to bring home gold when she is only a child. You gave birth to champion, Winnie, and she spent her life to give you what you could not get for yourself. You want her to miss you when you are gone? Set her free. She doesn’t work for us any longer.”

“That’s cruel.”

“Is truth.”

* * *

When Grace was back in Thunder Point, she texted Troy to tell him she was home with food and wine. If there wasn’t so much going on, she’d be out at the beach, keeping him company while he served. Instead, she poured herself a glass of wine, got out her laptop and checked messages. Ray Anne had sent her a dozen listings to look at and she breezed through them with disappointment. There was one with a Pacific view that was spacious and beautiful, but the kitchen was dated and the bedrooms were all upstairs. Just like the San Francisco house.