Page 49 of Postmarked December

Her best friend’s embrace was the best feeling.

“I waited to bake the casserole for dinner,” Heather said, rubbing Scarlett’s little head through the small grate, “so it’s almost done. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m definitely hungry,” Anthony said, stepping up next to them, loaded down with bags. He kicked the snow off his shoes. “Hey, Heather. Good to see you.” He leaned in and gave her a side hug.

“Same.” She ushered them inside the warm cabin and closed the door.

Marion gazed around the open living room and kitchen. “This place is gorgeous, Heather.” She ran her hand along the butcher-block island Toby had kept from the original layout and had refinished.

“Thank you,” Heather said, wishing Toby could have enjoyed the fruits of all his planning.

“I don’t like showing up empty-handed,” Anthony said. “I’d have brought steaks or something, but Marion insisted you told her that food was plenty and you didn’t need anything else.”

“I have more than enough to sustain us,” she said.

Marion dropped her bag, took Scarlett out of the carrier and cradled the little kitten. “Oh wow, this is incredible,” she said, looking around.

“I’m tickled with the renovations.” Heather picked up the TV remote and flicked through the stations until she found football for Anthony. “Let me help you with your things.”

Anthony waved her off. “No, no. You two enjoy yourselves. Just tell me where to go.” He slung Marion’s bags over his arm and picked up the suitcase.

“Your room’s the second door on the left upstairs. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay.” He adjusted the bags once more. “Be right back. Marion, you want to unpack the cooler?”

“Unpack the wine and beer? Silly question.” Marion winked at Heather and handed Scarlett to her.

While Marion toted the cooler into the kitchen, Heather followed, holding the purring ball of fur. She clicked on the radio, turning the volume low so they could still carry on a conversation.

“She loves to be held, so she’s easy to travel with.”

Heather stroked the kitten’s soft head.

Marion set the cooler on the counter and unzipped it. “It smells so good in here.”

“I’ve been cooking all day.” Heather gestured toward the dining table that now held Christmas platters of cookies. “Help yourself.”

Wide-eyed, Marion abandoned the cooler and moved to the table, selecting a gingerbread cookie and taking a nibble. “Look at you, the little domestic goddess.”

“I was inspired.”

Marion grinned at her, clearly delighted to see her happy. Then she sobered and leaned in. “Thank you for having us,” she whispered. “I think the time away from our regular lives might give us a chance to talk with no distractions.” She nodded in the direction of the empty stairway.

“I hope so,” Heather said with an air of optimism.

“Got any wine glasses?”

“Yep. How many do we need?” She handed the kitten back to Marion.

“Two if you want a glass. Anthony packed his beer so doesn’t need any, but I brought us girls rosé.” She began loading beverages into the fridge.

“Definitely two then.”

Heather retrieved the glasses while Marion unzipped the side of the cooler and retrieved a corkscrew. Marion set Scarlett down to uncork the wine. The kitten purred and rubbed against her leg.

Just then, the timer went off, so Heather slipped on the oven mitts and pulled out the casserole, sending a savory aroma into the air that she hadn’t smelled in so long. She set the steaming, bubbling dish on a trivet.

“Holy smokes, that looks divine. Let me get Scarlett’s food ready so she doesn’t decide to help herself.”