you back, Meredith, if only for one night.”
“I wish I could stay longer, but as I explained on the phone, I’ve got to get back to the city after the meeting at Hilltops tomorrow.”
Blanche nodded. “I think you’re going to make a deal with the Morrisons. They’re awfully eager to buy an inn, get away from New York, lead a different kind of life.”
“I’m keeping my fingers crossed,” Meredith said, shrugging out of her heavy gray wool cape, throwing it down on a bench.
“I know you’ll like them, they’re a lovely couple, very sincere, straight as a dye, and quite aside from wanting to start a new business, they love this part of Connecticut.”
“And why not, it’s God’s own country,” Meredith murmured. She glanced around the entrance hall. “Everything looks wonderful, Blanche, so warm, welcoming.”
Blanche beamed at her. “Thanks, Meredith, you know I love this old place as much as you do. Anyway, you must be starving. I didn’t think you’d want a full dinner at this late hour, so I made some smoked salmon sandwiches, and there’s fruit and cheese. Oh and I have a hunter’s soup bubbling on the stove.”
“The soup sounds great. You make the best, and they’re usually a meal in themselves. I’m sure Jonas is hungry after the long drive, so perhaps you’d offer him the soup too, and some sandwiches.”
“I will.”
Pete came in with Meredith’s overnight bag and briefcase. “Jonas has gone to park the car,” he explained. “I’ll take these upstairs.”
“Thanks, Pete,” Meredith said.
“I’ve put you in the toile de Jouy suite,” Blanche told her, “because I know how much you like it. Now, do you want a tray up there? Or shall I bring it to the bar parlor?”
“I’ll have it down here in the parlor, thanks, Blanche,” Meredith said, peering into the room that opened off the inn’s large entrance hall. “I see you have a fire going…that’s nice. I think I’ll make myself a drink. Would you like one, Blanche?”
“Why not. I’ll join you in a vodka and tonic. But first let me go and fix a tray for Jonas, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.
Meredith went into the bar parlor, glancing around as she strolled over to the huge stone hearth at the far end of the room. The fire burning brightly, the red carpet, the red velvet sofas and tub chairs covered in red and cream linen, gave the parlor a warm, rosy feeling. This was further enhanced by the red brocade curtains at the leaded windows, the polished mahogany paneled walls, and the red shades on the wall sconces. It was a slightly masculine room in feeling and rather English in overtone; there was a mellowness about it that Meredith had always liked.
The carved mahogany bar was to the left of the fireplace, facing the leaded windows. Meredith went behind it, took two glasses, added ice, and poured a good measure of Stolichnaya Cristal into each one. She smiled to herself when she noticed the small plate of lime wedges next to the ice bucket. Blanche had second-guessed her very accurately. Her old friend had known she would have her drink in here. The bar parlor had always been a favorite spot of hers in the inn, as it was with everyone, because it was so intimate and cozy. And conducive to drinking. Jack had been smart when he had created the bar parlor.
Once she had made the drinks, Meredith went over to the fireplace. She stood with her back to it, enjoying the warmth, sipping her vodka, relaxing as she waited for Blanche, whom she thought had never looked better. If there was a tiny fleck of silver in her bright red hair, she was, nonetheless, as slim as she had been as a girl, and the merry dark-brown eyes were as lively as ever. She’s wearing well, Meredith thought, very well indeed.
The two women, who were the same age, had been friends for twenty-four years. Blanche had come to Silver Lake Inn two years after Meredith had taken the job as the receptionist. She had started as a pastry chef in the kitchens, had soon been promoted to chef, since she was an inspired cook. Blanche had enjoyed working in the kitchens until she married Pete, who had always managed the estate for the Silvers, and became pregnant with Billy.
By then Meredith was running the inn, and she offered Blanche the job of assistant manager. Blanche had been delighted to accept the offer at once, glad to be out of the heat, relieved not to lift heavy pots and pans, and thrilled to be able to continue working at the inn.
These days she and Pete ran Silver Lake Inn together and were responsible for its overall management as well as the upkeep of the entire estate. She’s been good for this place, Meredith mused. She’s as passionate about it as I am, and it shows everywhere, and in everything she does.
Blanche interrupted her musings, walking rapidly into the bar parlor, saying, “By the way, you’re not going to believe this, but we’re rather busy this coming weekend. All the rooms are taken. And several suites. Unusual for January, I must say, but I’m not complaining.”
“I’m delighted, and in some ways it’s not that surprising. A lot of people do like being in the country in the snowy weather, and this place has such a great reputation. Thanks, in no uncertain terms, to you and Pete. I do appreciate all you both do, Blanche.”
“We love the inn, you know that.”
“By the way, Catherine sends her love to you and Pete.”
Blanche smiled. “And give her ours. How is she, Meredith?”
“As wonderful as always, and doing so well with her work; she’s turned out to be a fine illustrator. And, of course, she’s madly in love.”
“With Keith Pearson?”
Meredith nodded. “She told you?”
“Yes, when you were all here at Thanksgiving.”
“I think it’s become rather serious.”
“Are we looking forward to a wedding?” Blanche asked, staring at Meredith quizzically.
“I think so…I’m pretty sure.”
“You will have it here, won’t you?”
“Where else, Blanche? Cat was born here, grew up here, and so I’m certain she’ll want to be married here. And it is the perfect setting.”
“Oh I can’t wait to start planning it!” Blanche cried, taking a sip of her drink. “Cheers. And here’s to Cat and the wedding.”
“The wedding,” Meredith said, and lifted her glass as Blanche was doing. She wondered if it was bad luck to drink to something so prematurely.
“Marquees. We’ll have to have marquees,” Blanche said, gazing into space, obviously already envisioning the reception.
“But they’ll no doubt get married in the summer,” Meredith pointed out.
“Yes, I know. June probably, every girl wants to be a June bride. But it can rain up here at that time of year, you know that as well as I do, and it’s best to be safe. Oh it’ll be great, though. We’ll do wonderful flowers and table settings. And a special menu. Oh it’s going to be fabulous. Leave it all to me.”
