The Cottage on Juniper Ridge. Sheila Roberts

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      “Whoa, check this out,” Cass said, moving to the couch where Charley had settled in order to get a better look. “That’s some sparkler.” She hugged Charley. “You deserve every karat. But, you little stinker, why didn’t you call me the minute it happened?”

      “Because I knew you wouldn’t be awake at midnight last night.”

      “I’m so happy for you,” Cass said. “When’s the wedding?”

      “We’re thinking Valentine’s Day.”

      “Wow, that doesn’t give you much time,” Stacy said.

      “Tell me about it. But, hey, if Cass can throw together a great wedding in record time so can we.”

      “I wouldn’t wish that madness on anyone,” Cass said. “I almost had a nervous breakdown.”

      “We’re just going to have a small, simple wedding.”

      Cass snorted. “That’s what Dani said.”

      The doorbell rang and Stacy opened it to let in Chita Arness, their newest member. Chita was a thirtysomething single mom who looked like Jennifer Lopez. Why she hadn’t remarried was a mystery to Stacy. Chita claimed that between work and her two children she didn’t have time to date but Stacy wasn’t buying it. A woman could always find time for love.

      “Sorry I’m late.” Chita handed over a plate with a cake on it that made Stacy’s mouth water. “My tres leches cake,” she said.

      Brownies, gingerbread and cake—Stacy’s hips were going to explode. But she’d die with a smile on her face.

      In addition to the cake, Chita brought two books—the Robyn Carr holiday tale they were discussing and what was probably her suggestion for their January selection, since it was her turn to choose.

      She apologized again to the others as she entered the living room. “I had to pick up Hidalgo from the vet’s. And then, after dinner, Anna needed help with her math.”

      Juliet shuddered. “Math. Eeew. When Jon reaches the point where he needs help I’m having him call his uncle Jonathan.”

      “I wish we had an uncle to call,” Chita said, and sank into Stacy’s new armchair (Thanksgiving sale, forty percent off). She heaved a giant sigh. “I’m so tired. And I still have so much to do before Christmas. Enrico and his friends got into the cookies I just made and ate almost all of them. Now I have to bake some more before my sister’s cookie exchange on Saturday. Which I don’t want to go to.”

      “Why?” Juliet asked.

      “Because I don’t have time to party,” Chita replied. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair. “All I want to do this weekend is crawl into bed and stay there.”

      “Bed and a good book,” Juliet said with a sigh.

      “I wouldn’t be able to stay awake to read,” Chita said. “Even though I loved this month’s book. By the way, what gossip did I miss?”

      “Oh, not much,” Charley said, waving her left hand around.

      “Look at you!” Chita exclaimed. She grabbed Charley’s hand. “Oooh, that is some diamond.”

      “He’s some man.” Charley smiled and proceeded to fill Chita in on the wedding details.

      “Ah, I love weddings,” Chita said dreamily.

      “Maybe there’s one in your future,” Stacy suggested.

      “No time for a wedding. No time for a man,” Chita said firmly.

      “You really need to rethink your priorities,” Charley teased as the women moved to the dining room table.

      “Oooh, your homemade brownies,” Cass said. “These are the best.”

      Stacy smiled, dismissing the compliment. She was no professional like Cass and she knew Cass was just being nice. Still, she was gratified by the praise. She liked to bake.

      She also liked to entertain. She’d been happy to take over hosting the book club after Juliet had her baby. With the kids gone, the house seemed so empty. Homes should be filled with people and laughter.

      And life should be filled with meaning and purpose. Stacy had to admit that when their daughter, the baby of the family, moved to Seattle to attend the University of Washington in the fall, she’d lost her sense of purpose. Empty-nest syndrome—she never thought she’d experience it. She’d always kept busy with her home, her quilting and her volunteer activities.

      She still had the volunteer work. She was on the Friends of the Library committee and was in charge of the monthly book sales. Between that and her quilting and church activities, she had enough to do. And yet she didn’t.

      “This is a new chapter in your life,” Dean kept saying. “Now’s your chance to finally get out and explore your options.” He was right, of course, but she still found herself in a quagmire of indecision. Should she go back to school and finally finish her degree? After twenty years? Maybe not. She’d been more into boys and parties than studying when she was in college. She wasn’t sure she was college material.

      She could get a job doing...something. Everyone worked these days. She’d worked in retail when she and Dean were first married and had enjoyed it, but now that she was older, going to work for someone didn’t sound all that appealing. The idea of starting her own business intrigued her but she had no idea what kind of business to start. What skills did she have other than baking and finding bargains on sale? And quilting. She supposed she could sell her quilts.

      Except who would buy them? Most of the people she knew already had one of her quilts. Anyway, there were many women out there who turned out better work than she did. Her cousin Helen Ross could quilt circles around her.

      “Everything looks so great,” Juliet said. “With all these pretty things, your house should be in a magazine,” she told Stacy.

      Ha! Take that, Deano. “Tell that to my husband,” Stacy said.

      “He doesn’t like your decorations?” Charley asked.

      “He thinks we have too much stuff. But I don’t think I have too much,” Stacy added quickly before anyone could agree with Dean.

      “I love looking at all of this,” Cass said, “but I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes putting it away in January.” She returned to the living room, sat down on the couch and searched in vain for a place to fit her cup of eggnog among the host of ceramic animals and people visiting the Holy Family. She ended up holding it and Stacy found herself wondering if she should’ve set out fewer camels.

      “Sometimes our things can own us,” Chita said, making Stacy frown.

      “That’s true. And pretty darned profound,” Cass told her.

      If you asked Stacy, it sounded like something you’d hear on Dr. Phil.

      “I didn’t think it up,” Chita said. “I read it.” She put СКАЧАТЬ