Page 83 of Threads of Kindness
“How’s the house hunt going?” Nancy asked.
“We want to stay in this area, but everything’s so pricey. We need more time to save. Once we’ve got a larger nest egg, we’ll call Tim,” Sunday said, smiling at Nancy.
“He’d be happy to speak with you now—even if you’re not ready,” Nancy said. “He’ll have ideas for you.”
“I’ll talk to Josh,” Sunday said. “Maybe after the wedding.”
“I grew up in a house across the street from the Olsson House,” Judy said. “It’s a wonderful neighborhood to raise a family.”
“We love that street,” Sunday said. “I drive down it on my way home from work at least once a week. Which house?”
Judy began describing it.
Sunday interrupted her with a squeal. “I know exactly which one that is. We stood on the sidewalk and lusted after it for thelongest time on New Year’s Eve. That’s our dream house. I hope we can find one just like it.”
Judy bit her lip and didn’t say anything else.
“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect home for you and Josh,” Anita said.
“And now,” Susan announced, getting to her feet, “there’s just one thing left to do.”
All eyes turned to her.
“We’ve got a cake from Laura’s Bakery—and it won’t eat itself.”
Maggie cleared a space on the food table and Anita brought the cake in from the kitchen. Judy passed slices around.
Conversation quieted as everyone enjoyed the sweet treat. Sunday set her fork down and dabbed her lips with her napkin.
“Thank you for being such good friends—and for making tonight so special. I love you all. One thing is certain—Josh and I want to spend our lives in Westbury.”
CHAPTER 41
The early morning mist vanished as the sun rose in the cloudless day. The old stone chapel on the Highpointe College campus—its Gothic Revival arches outlined against the azure sky—looked like something out of a fairytale.
The faint scent of flowers drifted through the sanctuary, greeting wedding guests as they entered. An enormous spray of lilacs, white tulips, and forget-me-nots graced the altar, their fragrance unmistakably that of spring.
Maggie and John strolled, hand in hand, through the massive wooden double doors into the narthex.
Gordon, who had been leaning against the stone wall near the coat rack, straightened and stepped forward to greet them.
“Where’s Anita?” Maggie asked, glancing around expectantly.
“She just stepped into the bride’s room,” Gordon said, nodding toward a closed door on the other side of the narthex. “She wanted to see if Sunday needed help getting into her wedding gown. Lyla’s with Sunday now, waiting to walk her down the aisle. Anita said she’d be right out.”
Maggie nodded. “We’ll see you at the reception.” She and John turned to go, but Maggie looked back over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye. “This is the most beautiful place to get married, isn’t it, Gordon?”
He smiled, his eyes following her for a moment. “It really is,” he said softly.
John squeezed Maggie’s hand and guided her forward. “If that was a hint,” he murmured, “it wasn’t very subtle.”
“What are you talking about?” Maggie replied, her voice full of mock surprise.
“You and Judy—and, let’s be honest, all of your friends—think Gordon should marry Anita and move to Westbury.”
They made their way down the aisle and slid into a pew near the front. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass above the altar, casting colors like watercolor brushstrokes across the stone floor.
Maggie leaned close to John and pressed her lips near his ear. “You have to admit, they’re perfect for each other.”
