complained about the high rent Faith paid to live in Manhattan, but she loved historic Greenwich Village with its bohemian lifestyle, quirky residents, charming row houses, hidden alleys and narrow streets. It was after dark that the Village truly came alive with late-night coffeehouses, jazz clubs and cafés. Her apartment took up less than a thousand square feet of living space, but she’d learned to maximize every foot, and the result was inviting as well as charming.
She opened the door, and warmth curled around her like a rising mist. When she flipped a wall switch, two table lamps flooded the apartment with soft yellow light. She’d lived in the building for three years, and there was never a day when she didn’t have heat or hot water.
Her home had become a retreat where she came to relax, eat and sleep. A compact utility kitchen ran the length of a brick wall, and a cushioned window seat with storage drawers spanned the width of three tall, narrow windows providing the perfect place for her to curl up to read or while away hours watching her favorite movie on the flat-screen television on its stand resting on a bleached pine drop-leaf table. The pale color was repeated in the other furnishings: a claw-foot pedestal table with four matching petit-point-cushioned pull-up chairs, an antique sleigh bed in an alcove that had been a walk-in closet, an antique-white armoire and a love seat covered with Haitian cotton.
Former tenants hadn’t removed the shelves in the converted closet, so Faith stacked them with books, linens and a collection of priceless crystal vases. An antique clothespress doubled as a bureau and vanity for items that normally would’ve been stored in the minuscule bathroom that had been updated to include a basin, commode and shower stall.
The telephone rang as she slipped out of her coat. Hanging it on a coat tree, Faith picked up the cordless receiver off the kitchen countertop. She smiled when she saw the name on the display. “Yes, Tessa. I’m hosting Monday’s get-together.”
Her cousin’s sultry laugh came through the earpiece. “For you information, Miss Smarty Pants, I’m not calling about Monday night.”
Cradling the receiver between her chin and shoulder, Faith leaned over and pulled off her boots. “What’s going on, Tessa?”
“Are you free to go to Mount Vernon with me tomorrow?”
“What’s happening in Mount Vernon?” she asked as she made her way into the bathroom to wash her hands.
“I’m bringing Micah with me so he can meet the family.”
She paused drying her hands. “What aren’t you telling me, cousin?”
“I got engaged last night!”
Faith hadn’t realized she was screaming until Tessa pleaded with her to calm down. “I don’t believe it, Tessa! Did he give you a ring? When am I going to meet your manly man?” Simone, who’d met Micah, described him as a manly man.
“Yes, he gave me a ring. Come with me tomorrow and you’ll meet him.”
Reaching for a towel, she dried her hands and walked out of the bathroom. “I can’t make it tomorrow. I’m having brunch with Peter Demetrious, and I can’t change the date or time because he’s only going to be in New York for the weekend.”
Faith had thought herself blessed when Tessa convinced the celebrated photographer to take pictures of her cake designs.
“What about tonight?”
“Tonight I have Savanna Raymond’s engagement party. Why don’t you bring Micah with you when you come Monday?”
“No, Faith. Mondays are for the girls, not girls and guys.”
“Is it going to be that way after you’re married?”
“My marrying Micah shouldn’t change our bimonthly get-togethers. Don’t forget our mothers still get together with their girlfriends once a month without their husbands.”
“You’re right, Tessa. Nothing should change that drastically, just because you’re changing your name.”
“I’m not changing my name to Sanborn.”
“You plan to keep your maiden name?”
“No, Faith. I’m going to hyphenate it like Micah’s sister did. She’s now Bridget Sanborn-Cohen, and when I marry Micah I’ll become Theresa Whitfield-Sanborn.”
“How is baby girl doing?” Faith knew within minutes of meeting Bridget Sanborn for the first time that she’d been spoiled and indulged. And it was obvious that her new husband would continue to indulge her. When Bridget and Seth sampled fillings and conferred with each other about the overall design for their wedding cake, Seth had always deferred to Bridget.
“Micah said Bridget and Seth are still honeymooning in Tahiti. After two weeks they’re going to Fiji for another week.”
Faith smiled. “Nice.” Her smile faded. What she would give for a few days in a warm climate. It didn’t have to be the South Pacific. A weekend in the Caribbean, or even South Florida would do quite nicely.
“Bridget gave me a gift to give to you. I’ll bring it when I come Monday.”
“She didn’t have to give me anything. After all, I charged her top dollar for the cake and the individual cakes she gave as favors.”
“She said it’s just a little token for making her day so special given such short notice.”
Faith smiled again. Tessa had successfully coordinated a formal New Year’s Eve wedding in only ten weeks. “Isn’t that what Signature Bridals do? You’ve established a reputation of performing wedding miracles.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you and Simone. You know I want you to design my cake.”
“Have you set a date?”
“We’ve decided on the last Saturday in June. And of course it will be held at Whitfield Caterers.”
Faith nodded even though her cousin couldn’t see her. Their fathers were closing their catering business at the end of August to open a bowling alley the following spring. “You know Daddy and Uncle Malcolm have been waiting a long time to host another Whitfield wedding.”
“Well, they won’t have to wait too long because June is less than six months away. I’m going to let you go because you have a party tonight. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Monday,” Faith repeated before ending the call. She turned off one of the table lamps.
Walking over to the alcove, she set the alarm on the radio, undressed and got into bed. She couldn’t believe it. Her cousin was getting married. Tessa, who hadn’t dated in years, had fallen in love and planned to marry the brother of one of her clients. At least one of them had found her prince.
A groan escaped Faith’s lips as she turned her face into the softness of the pillow. The instant Edith Whitfield found out that another one of her nieces was getting married, Faith was going to have to put up with her mother’s constant haranguing about why couldn’t she find “a nice boy to settle down with.”
She’d lost count of the number of times she’d informed her mother that she didn’t want a boy but a man. And just because they
