The Book Club Hotel(30)

She wasn’t brave. Far from it. She had a nasty habit of avoiding anything difficult and of making sure she didn’t put herself in situations that threatened her carefully controlled life and sense of independence. She’d discovered that about herself only recently, when she’d struggled with the idea of taking this trip. But here she was, doing it. So maybe she was braver than she’d thought.

She focused on her friend. “I mean it, Claudia. You could set up on your own. I’ve tasted your cooking. I’d invest in you. I’d help you.”

“Even if I could somehow pull together the funds, which I couldn’t, I’m not sure I want to spend the rest of my life cooking. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re having this week away.” The traffic was moving again and Erica took the turn toward Anna’s house. “Operation New Future.”

“Honestly? I’d rather talk about books and forget my problems.”

Keeping her eyes on the road, Erica reached across and squeezed Claudia’s leg. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. This is a rough patch, but you’re going to come through it. And talking of books, did you read it?”

“Twice.” Claudia reached into her bag and pulled out the book. “I loved it, particularly the way she made his death look like an accident. Brilliant. I had some issues with the choices she made in the middle of the story, but overall I thought it was great. I’m looking forward to chatting about it. Has Anna read it?”

“I don’t know. She was grumbling about it being a crime novel, but was also intrigued that it was by Catherine Swift.” She glanced at the copy Claudia was holding. “Looks as if you dropped that in the bath or something. What happened to it?”

“I dropped it in the bath. Bath and a book is the closest I get to a hot date these days.”

The traffic was moving again and soon they were entering Anna’s neighborhood, driving along a wide, tree-lined road. All the houses were decorated for Christmas, their windows offering the curious a peep at sparkling Christmas trees and hearths draped in greenery.

Claudia snuggled deeper into her seat. “It’s magical. Reminds me of my childhood when Dad would string lights all around the house.” She gave a long sigh and finally smiled. “Okay, now I’m starting to feel Christmassy. Are you?”

Erica was pleased that Claudia seemed happier. She wanted her to stay that way. But the words magical and Christmassy simply wouldn’t leave her mouth no matter how much she tried.

“It’s great.” It was the best she could do, and fortunately, it seemed to be enough for Claudia.

“This place is so Anna, isn’t it? She lives in paradise.”

“I can see the appeal, although personally I prefer Manhattan.” Erica swung onto Anna’s drive and pulled up outside the house. “This place is great for a visit but it would drive me crazy to have to get in the car every time I want to go somewhere. I want to be able to walk, and leap on the subway when necessary.”

“She can walk to the village from here, and the waterfront.”

“But can she get to Saks and Bloomingdale’s? The Met? Carnegie Hall?”

Claudia grinned. “You have different priorities. Anna wants good schools and green space.”

“I know.” Erica killed the engine and sat for a moment, pondering the lifestyle twinkling in front of her.

Anna lived in a newly built stone-and-clapboard colonial-style home, surrounded by an acre of gardens bordered by trees. Lights glowed in all the windows and it wasn’t hard to see why Claudia had described it as paradise.

“It’s not the building, is it?” Claudia was staring at the festive wreath decorating the front door. “It’s Anna. Everything about her shrieks comfort. She could move into a barn and still make it cozy. Remember what she did to our room in college?”

“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.