“Me, too,” Victoria said. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I wasn’t very grateful for the invitation. I’m in a mood. I’ve just come from coffee with Hannah. A meeting, if you please. Where she dressed me down and told me what my boundaries had better be if I hope to ever see Noah again.”

“Hannah? She doesn’t seem like the sort,” Helen said. “What’s that all about?”

“I’m not sure,” Victoria said.

The waitress was at their table and they each ordered a glass of wine.

“You were saying,” Helen urged.

“That’s all there is to tell,” Victoria said. “I’ve been asking permission to see him for an hour here or there and so far, the answer is no. Today she told me it’s going to be no for some time and suggested I just go back to Minneapolis and wait to be summoned.” She laughed hollowly. “I was laid off last year and haven’t worked in a good while. I don’t have money to fly back and forth. I wonder if it’s worth it to stay on here if Hannah is just going to prevent me from seeing my grandson.”

“Oh, Victoria, I had no idea...”

“Well, it’s something I’m going to have to think through, make a decision. I suppose I should accept the inevitable. I thought she would be more understanding...”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what in the world happened between you and your daughter?”

“Well, it’s not easy for me... Erin was a vicious daughter. I couldn’t please her no matter how I tried. She had a falling-out with her brother, moved away and stopped talking to both of us. Roger is no angel—I’ll be the first to admit that—but he tried. Tried and failed. But for Erin to stop talking to me, for her to make me out to be some kind of monster...”

The wine arrived and Victoria took a sip.

“I was so shocked and ashamed by the things she said about me in some letter her lawyer produced. She called me abusive, claimed that I never protected her, that I allowed her brother to physically abuse her, that I was cruel. I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t have an easy life and I did my best to be a good mother.”

“Of course you did,” Helen said.

“And I’d do my best to be a good grandmother. But Hannah has hooked herself up to a rich man and she won’t budge. She isn’t going to give me a chance and her rich boyfriend is going to back her up no matter the legal cost.”

“Owen?” Helen asked. “Oh, Victoria, I’m sure Owen isn’t rich.”

“I saw that house,” Victoria said.

“Yes, it’s something, isn’t it? He rents it out when he travels on photo shoots. You have to understand about writers—hardly any of them make money. Most barely squeak by. Owen has made a comment or two about spending too much on that house and wondering if he should sell it.”

“Is that a fact? What do you know about writers? And I thought he was a photographer, not a writer.”

“He publishes photo essays. Coffee-table books. They’re beautiful and he’s well-known for them but they’re not runaway bestsellers. They sell a respectable number to libraries. The real money is in popular fiction.”

“Huh,” she said. “How does he get this fancy Wikipedia page and everything? If you google him, he’s all over the place!”

“That doesn’t cost anything,” Helen said. “You can put yourself out there in a big way, too. Just by spending some time on the computer and generating some photos and content. I do it all the time.”

“For what?”

“I’m a writer, too. A little luckier than Owen—I’ve been at it a long time and lucky for me, my books are popular. But don’t get me wrong, I love Owen’s work. He’s very gifted. I just don’t think he’s rich, that’s all. Maybe he will be one day.

“Now, tell me, Victoria. What kind of work were you doing when you were laid off?”

“Oh, that. I’ve done every kind of work imaginable. I’ve worked in real estate, in mortgages, home health care—”

“You’re a nurse!” Helen said.

“No, not that kind of care,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t like to mop up. I’m more of a counselor, the kind of overall care needed by the elderly or disabled—everything from arranging long-term health care to reverse mortgages, that sort of thing. I’m best at helping people. I’m good at taking care of the details so these poor folks with no one to help them aren’t completely abandoned. It’s all very ordinary and doesn’t exactly pay well, but it’s satisfying. But tell me about your writing? I can’t believe I know a real writer!”

Helen wasn’t above laying it on a little thick, glamorizing her profession more than was accurate. The truth was she pulled on jeans and a top, sat on the porch and typed every day, had a light lunch with Sully, had a little exercise, messed around in the garden, had dinner, read in the evening and then repeated. She’d never spent so much time out of her routine as in the past week, stalking Victoria. It was frankly driving her bonkers. Sully was right—Helen didn’t like to poke around.

She did like research, however.

So she told Victoria about her travels and vacations, the few famous people she’d met and plans she had for renting a condo in San Diego for a few months come winter. And she thought it might be about time for a new car.

Victoria chattered on about how much she liked Colorado but wasn’t sure she could afford to stay and then she asked Helen a lot of questions. Helen was looking for important talking points. Victoria wanted to know more about Helen’s travels, like where and when and what hotels she stayed in. She asked about Helen’s books, of course, and asked where she got her ideas. They talked about the Crossing and Sully and his garden. Victoria wanted to know where in Chicago she had lived and whether she had any good friends besides Owen. “I’m very close to my niece,” Helen said. “But she’s married with a baby and quite busy with her husband. I’m something of a loner while I’m here. It’s when I travel that I see my women friends, and I have some wonderful ones in the writing community. It’s nice to have met you! Finally, someone closer to my age I can talk to.”

Victoria asked if Helen had a secretary and who managed all her business details. She said she hoped Helen had experts to help her protect her assets. “That’s what I did for a living, you know. I connected people with the right agents and managers to make sure they got the most out of their retirement or disability funds.”

Every now and then she’d turn the conversation back to herself and drop in something a little emotional—with Erin gone and Roger pretty much out of the picture these days, she felt she had no family at all. She longed for her daughter’s company, but it had been so long since they were on good terms. She’d had a hard life, twice widowed—though Helen knew that would actually be divorced—and struggling to raise two children alone.

Sully called her cell phone and Helen sent him to voice mail. “I’ll have to go soon. Sully’s probably restless and hungry. But we’ll have to do this again. Let me give you my number.”

“You don’t feel awkward, do you?” Victoria asked. “Hannah and Owen are trying to keep me as far away as possible.”

“If we’re friendly, it has nothing to do with them, does it?” Helen said. “An occasional coffee klatch or glass of wine, that’s just what the doctor ordered.”

“Don’t even bring up doctors,” Victoria said. “That’s a particular problem right now.”

“Oh?” Helen asked.

“I need to see my oncologist,” she said. “It’s a long story. We’ll talk about it next time.”

“But you know my niece is a doctor, don’t you? Family medicine and emergency medicine. She runs the urgent care in town...”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the kind of doctor I need. Let’s put that subject on hold for now.”

“Of course,” Helen said. “But where is your doctor?”

“There’s more than one. Primarily, the Mayo Clinic. Now, when can we get together again?”

“I absolutely must work the next couple of days. How does Tuesday look for you?” Helen asked.

“What on earth do I have to take up my time? Tuesday would be perfect. Same time, same place?”

“Three thirty right here,” Helen said. “See you then.”

They hugged in parting, girlfriends. Helen went to her car. Now Victoria had a couple of days to research Helen. She called Sully from the car.

“I’m on my way. Did you think of anything else you need?”

“Not a thing, my dear. Have you caused any trouble?”

“Not yet, I haven’t,” she said.

* * *

Helen did a lot of writing about heroes and heroines, but she also had to write about the bad guys and gals. Over the years she’d learned a lot about how they played out. She’d studied interrogation techniques and body language. Victoria hadn’t said or done anything obviously suspicious and her body language was appropriate to their discussion, except those few times her eyes strayed, as though looking up or askance in search of the next comment or answer to a question. And it was the weirdest thing—her damn ears got a little red when she lied. Helen was going to have to look that up. When she said her daughter was vicious, pink ears. When she said she would be a wonderful grandmother, she pursed her lips. When she was asking Helen questions that directly related to how much money she could spend, she got a hungry look and crossed one arm over her chest protectively.

Helen didn’t know much, but she knew Victoria was lying and she was after something. She wondered about her work as a counselor for seniors, but Hannah said Cal had learned that. And this business about an oncologist? When a woman of a certain age had a condition that required a cancer doctor, it was usually impossible to shut them up, yet Victoria wanted to save that conversation for later.