Page 8 of Threads of Kindness
Sam looked through the open door of the dining room, across the foyer, and into the parlor. His wife stood in front of the fireplace with her back to him.
“I wish she’d go sit down somewhere. I feel like the minute I load up a plate, she’s going to turn around and catch me.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I load up a plate for you?”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I would! It’s not like I’m aiding and abetting a criminal enterprise. I was going to get myself some dessert, anyway. Sit tight—I’ll be right back.”
Maggie handed him her coffee cup and went to the buffet, making her selections and returning to him.
“I’ll trade you this plate for my coffee cup,” Maggie said, snagging the additional sour cream sugar cookie from the top of the plate. “This one’s for me. It’s not Christmas without one of Gloria’s cookies.”
Sam motioned for her to follow him farther into the room and out of his wife’s line of sight. He lifted a forkful of Bûche de Noël to his lips.
“You must be enjoying seeing this house so full of light and life. You and Jeff did a masterful job with the renovations.” Maggie took a small bite of her cookie. “It’s beautiful.”
Sam nodded. “It took far more work than either of us expected, but we’re very happy with the result. We learned a ton in the process, too. Even after forty years as a handyman, I still ran into things I didn’t know. I’m sure we’d be much more efficient if we ever restored another old home again.”
“Is that in the cards for you?” Maggie asked.
Sam shrugged. “We’ve talked about it from time to time. This place wasn’t done until a week ago. We decided we’d take December off and talk about any future projects next month.”
“That’s exciting,” Maggie said. “Would you retire from your day job and do this full-time?”
Sam finished his sugar cookie in two bites. “That’s the big question. I need to talk to Joan about that, of course, but I’m not sure yet how I feel about that idea.”
“I understand—it’s a big decision. But I know, if you do take the plunge, you’ll make a success of it.” She nibbled at her cookie and glanced toward the parlor. “I was hoping to visit with Sunday and Lyla. Have you seen them?”
Sam dabbed at his lips with a napkin and pointed to the parlor. “I think they’re in there, talking wedding plans.”
“Then that’s where I want to be.” Maggie caught his eye and smiled warmly. “Merry Christmas, Sam,” she said, then walked to the parlor.
Sunday and Lyla sat on an antique sofa to the right of the fireplace. The red velvet upholstery, the crackling fire, and the fragrant, decorated evergreen nestled in the bay window created the perfect composition for an old-fashioned Christmas card. Judy and Joan stood across from them, while Anita Archer, owner of the local bridal boutique, flanked them on the other side.
Maggie entered the room as Sunday described her dream wedding.
“I’m a traditionalist at heart,” Sunday said. “That makes sense, I guess, since I’m a librarian with a specialty in rare books. I appreciate old things. What can I say? I want a church wedding with a minister, a big white dress with a veil, and a tiered cake.”
“That sounds lovely, dear,” Judy said. “Traditional weddings have never gone out of style. Even in these days of Evites,”—she made a show of shuddering—“I still sell a lot of traditional wedding invitations.”
“Good, because that’s what I want,” Sunday said. “When we get our details firmed up, I’ll come into Celebrations and order them from you.”
“I’d be happy to help you find exactly what you’re looking for,” Judy said.
“How many people do you plan to invite?” Anita asked.
“I think it’ll be a relatively small wedding,” Sunday said. “Susan isn’t here, is she?” She looked around, and her eyes rested on Maggie.
“No,” Maggie said. “Julia is sick and they’re quarantining.”
Sunday nodded. “I think my only attendant will be Susan, if she says yes. I’d have asked you, Lyla, but you’re going to be mother of the groom.”
Lyla brought a hand to her heart. “That means so much—that you’d even think of me as an attendant.”
“I don’t have any family to invite,” Sunday said, “and Josh’s family is small, so I think once you add in our friends, we’re looking at fifty people, if that.”
“Have you selected a date?” Maggie asked.
