“I’m not likely to forget.” Their room had been a barren, soulless space until Anna had taken over and transformed it. She’d added books, a stylish rug and pretty blankets. There was always a jar stuffed with fresh flowers on the windowsill. “It took me half an hour to remove the throw cushions from my bed before I could sleep.”
But she’d found it oddly comforting. Her childhood home had been functional, but could never be described as cozy. Her mother had focused on the practical and on making sure Erica was fed and watered. Cushions were considered a pointless luxury. The point, Anna would have said, was that they were a luxury.
As they were sitting there the door opened and Anna appeared on the doorstep with Lola, the family dog, at her ankles. Her dark hair was scooped up in a messy bun and she was wearing a short dress and knee-length boots.
“She looks great,” Claudia muttered. “Like an advert for wholesome foods, fresh air and exercise. It makes me want to move to Connecticut and get a spaniel. You?”
“Not if you paid me.” Erica opened the door and hauled their luggage out while Anna sprinted down the steps and hugged Claudia.
“I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been six months.” Anna spun her around, warmth exuding from her like a log fire in winter. “We are never leaving it so long again.”
“Feels like less because you haven’t changed. You never change.” Claudia was hugging her back, the two of them locked together.
“I’m older. I have four more gray hairs than I did yesterday. I’m wondering if I should tug them out.” Anna turned her attention to Erica. “How was the drive?”
“Fine. Oh—” She felt Anna’s arms come around her and was engulfed in the warmth of the hug. She hesitated for a moment and then hugged her friend back, breathing in the subtle floral scent that was so very Anna. She smelled like a summer garden, and for a moment Erica was comforted. Whatever happened in the next few days, it would be good to have her friends there. “I’m starving. What have you cooked us?”
“Claudia’s favorite. A lamb tagine with apricots and spices from a recipe book Pete bought me last year. It’s delicious. Perfect for this cold weather. And I’ve made a wickedly indulgent chocolate cake for dessert.” Anna was generous with her hospitality, never happy unless she had someone to pamper and spoil. “Come on in. Pete isn’t back from the office yet, which means we have time to catch up over a glass of wine.”
They followed her into the house and Erica was stopped in her tracks by the large Christmas tree in the entryway. When it came to Christmas, Anna never did anything by halves.
“That’s bigger than usual. No chance Santa misses your house.”
“That’s the plan. Pete and I chose the tree on our own this year, and he was indulging me so there was no fighting me over the size.”
Erica tilted her head back. “How did you get the star onto the top?”
“It involved Pete, a stepladder and a lot of bad language. Why don’t you take your bags up and meet me in the kitchen? Claudia, you’re in the guest room. Erica, you’re in Meg’s room.”
Erica frowned. “And how does Meg feel about that?”
“She has tidied her room for you, which is the closest thing to a Christmas miracle we’ve had around here for a long time, so I think it’s safe to assume that she’s excited to have her impressive godmother in the space she normally occupies. Apparently, you’re a role model.”
Claudia gave a snort. “Role model for what?”
“I love you both, too.” Ignoring them, Erica sailed up the stairs to Meg’s bedroom. She paused in the doorway, remembering when Anna had been pregnant and she’d helped them paint the room a sunny yellow with clouds on the ceiling.
We want you to be godmother, Anna had said, then we’ll be family, connected forever.
Erica had refused at first, daunted by the task and not at all confident of her ability to fulfill the role required of her, but Anna had refused to back down.
All you have to do is be there for her.
All? To Anna, whose family had never let her down, or walked out on her, it had seemed straightforward. Erica wasn’t Anna. She was convinced this would be the end of a beautiful friendship. She wasn’t good with babies. She wasn’t interested in babies, and she wasn’t sure she could convincingly pretend otherwise. She was going to fail at the task.
And then the twins were born and she’d fallen in love. No one had been more surprised than she was. She still remembered the first time she’d held Meg, hours old with a scrunched-up face and a fuzz of dark hair on her head. The baby wasn’t even beautiful—not that she ever would have voiced that thought out loud—but that hadn’t stopped Erica from falling hard. She’d fallen in love in a way she never had before. It was a hold-nothing-back type of love. A prepared to throw yourself in front of a bus to save her type of love.
“Erica!” A squeal came from behind her and Meg hurtled toward her and threw her arms around her.
Erica managed to stop herself from being knocked flat. Something unraveled inside her. “Hello, have we met? I was looking for Meg, but she’s half as tall as you.”
Meg pulled away and grinned. “Kids grow, Erica, providing they’re fed. I tidied my room for you.”
“So I hear. It doesn’t seem fair that you have to give up your room. I’m comfortable on the sofa.”
“You can’t sleep on the sofa. You’re used to five-star hotels. And you haven’t seen my room since Dad decorated it last.” Meg pushed open the door of her bedroom and turned to assess Erica’s reaction. “What do you think?”
Erica paused in the doorway. After the yellow bedroom with the clouds, Pete and Anna had turned Meg’s room into a fairy grotto, complete with pink walls and a canopy bed. Now it was a haven of teenage sophistication. The walls were covered in vintage movie posters; in one corner was a faux fur beanbag perfect for snuggling, and her bed was stacked with cushions and warm throws.
It was no wonder teenagers struggled to get up in the morning, Erica thought. If she was cocooned in this bed, she wouldn’t want to get up, either.
Did Meg know how lucky she was, having Anna and Pete as parents?
“It’s a great room.” On a stand in the corner was an old-fashioned turntable and next to it a stack of records. “That’s cool.”
“It’s my record collection. I’ve been building it up for a year.” Meg followed her gaze. “It’s more fun than having everything on your phone.”
“It really is.” Erica picked up the sketch on Meg’s desk. “Did you do this?”
“Yes, but I was just messing around.” She was dismissive, her face scarlet.
Erica knew insecurity when she saw it. “It’s incredible. You have real talent.”
“You think so? Thanks. I’ve been building up my portfolio. I love art and graphic design. I think I might want to work in advertising or maybe publicity. Look.” Meg grabbed a remote control from her bed and pressed a button, and lights twinkled around her ceiling. “They look great when I’m making content for social media.”
Erica felt old.