“I’m aware,” Winnie said, and not happily.

“I want to tell you about my business, Mama,” she said. “Let me make us some tea.”

Grace started with an idea right after reading her mother’s letter and that idea grew as she thought about it. She understood that many people would think running a small flower shop could be a little boutique business, a small-scale and simple operation. And that was true, it could be. But it could be more, depending on who operated the business. Iris had told her that when her mother operated that little shop, they could barely squeak by financially—Rose had done little more than create floral arrangements for the locals who were familiar with her.

Grace had grown the shop significantly, hiring a marketing firm to assist in PR with computer marketing, coupons, specials, advertising in bridal catalogs and in bridal stores, not to mention a website. She’d implemented a creative and complicated computer program to minimize the time spent on demonstrating what was available along with pricing. She was an expert in buying the finest and most cost effective flora and her designs were definitely among the most beautiful. Why else would brides come from towns surrounding Thunder Point rather than going to their own neighborhood florists?

All of her accounting was computerized and she had not run through the trust her father had left. After buying the store and renovating the loft to live in, she had some modest investments that were managed by a wealth-management firm. She hoped the work she was doing would keep her quite nicely for the rest of her life, but it was possible she could actually expand if the notion suited her lifestyle.

“And what about this boyfriend?” Winnie asked.

“Troy? He’s the most wonderful man, but I thought we’d talk about my business, Mama. It’s really important to me that you know I’m not dabbling to pass the time. I love it, I’m serious about it, I’m good at it. I’m one of the best, Mama. I realize it’s not the career you would choose for me, but it’s not a waste of time. And depending on how I run it, it can be very successful. Will you come to see it? This week?”

“Of course, Grace,” she said. “I’d like to see your store. Now tell me about this man. Does he know you’re very wealthy?”

Grace sighed. Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day. “Until yesterday neither of us knew I even had the potential to be wealthy. Apparently Troy found out first. I read your letter this morning.”

“You must have known that I—”

“Number one, you and I have barely spoken in five years and when we did, it didn’t go well and, number two, I have always thought of you as...” Her voice trailed off and, unexpectedly, tears gathered in her eyes.

“Thought of me as what, Grace?” Winnie asked.

“I’m twenty-eight. You’re fifty-one. I thought you’d live forever. To at least ninety-five.”

“I thought I’d live through at least two face-lifts,” Winnie said sourly. “I haven’t even had my first yet!”

Grace let go a huff of laughter, but she had to wipe her eyes.

“I was planning to be the best preserved ninety-year-old in the city,” Winnie said. “Just tell me about your young man, Grace.”

Grace took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and carried on. “The woman I bought the shop from became my best friend—Iris. She’s a high school counselor and she’s married to the sheriff’s deputy in charge of the substation in our little town. I met Troy through Iris—he’s a high school history teacher. He makes light of it, as if it’s just something he does to fill the days and finance his adventures—he loves everything from river rafting to skiing to rock climbing. I think he’s into every sport but figure skating and surfing. But when Iris talks about Troy’s teaching she describes him as the most dedicated teacher she knows. He doesn’t just teach them history, he keeps an eye on them, paying close attention to any issues that need intervention. He watches for signs of abuse, bullying, drug and alcohol use, any problems teenagers might have. Iris says Troy would make an outstanding guidance counselor—his instincts are right on. There are students whose lives are changed because of Troy’s skills as an educator.”

“You had good teachers,” Winnie said defensively.

“Probably, but it’s not the teachers I think about when I look back and examine the choices I’ve made, when I think about the opportunities and accomplishments. It’s the coaches. I’ve had two of the best.”

* * *

Grace called Troy’s cell and asked him if he’d join her and her mother for lunch at one of the resort restaurants. He was pleased to do that and he showed up at the cottage to push Winnie’s wheelchair.

Winnie might not be ready to admit it, but Troy charmed her. He made her laugh and her eyes twinkled. If there was a sweeter, kinder and funnier man, Grace had never met him. And he was completely sincere, Grace felt that in her heart.

On the way back to Thunder Point, she asked him what he would do if money were no object. “Grace, that is such a remote possibility for me, I’ve never even thought about it. I have no idea. Probably something fun and irresponsible.”

“But you’re the most responsible person I know. You work hard, you save, you measure every penny.”

“That’s because in my life, money has always been hard to come by. I learned to be careful at an early age.”

Grace and Troy were back in Thunder Point by three, but Grace didn’t open the shop. Instead, she made and returned a few phone calls, and then she went upstairs to her apartment and got on the laptop, researching ALS. At six, Troy showed up with crab cakes and salad from Cliff’s and a bottle of wine. They talked about all she’d learned in just a few hours of research, how much more she should know, including the need for genetic testing.

“I’m going to do a little more reading tonight,” Grace said.

“Would this be a good night for me to spend at my place?” he asked.

“Can you stay? I’m not going to read all night. And tomorrow I’m going to work in the shop in the morning and in the afternoon I’m going to close the shop and drive over to Eugene to pick up Mikhail. He’s going to stay at the resort with my mother for two or three days.”

“And what will you be doing? Will you spend the evening with them?”