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SYLVIE
CHAPTER ONE
The familiar aromaof the flowers surrounding my home wafted into my nostrils as I passed through them to the front door. Lucas, the neighbor boy I’d hired to keep up on my gardens and yard while I lived with Tom in Valley Hills, had done an excellent job keeping the property in tip-top shape. It had been several months since I’d last visited Wilder Lane, and now fall rapped on the door. I wondered how much longer the blooms would remain before winter would steal them away again.
When I reached the front door, I slid in my key. As the lock clicked, a strange blend of emotions crashed into me. Every time I’d been back to visit since the year had passed when I’d found my way back to my one true love, nostalgia assaulted me along with tokens of my past life. As I stepped in and saw the photos of my husband Bruce and me lining the wall, those pangs of guilt wove into my stomach once again. I’d moved on with Tom so quickly after Bruce had passed ... or perhaps not moved on, but back. Back to the man who’d owned my heart for all the decades we’d been apart—a man who still did and always would.
I glanced down at the diamond on my finger.
The man who would be my husband in just one short month.
The guilt over my quick recovery from Bruce’s death subsided a little as I stared down at the ring, memories of Tom’s heartfelt proposal and the words of his eternal love flashing through my mind, causing my heart to race and the blood to whoosh through my veins. But then I glanced at the wedding photo of Bruce and me, and the guilt came crashing back.
I reached up and brushed the dust off our photo, a soft smile lifting my lips as I let the happy memories from my life with Bruce back inside. Our marriage had been far from perfect, and we’d had more bad days than good, but the longer he was gone, the more those good memories overshadowed the bad. Like a tiny airbrush whisking away all the imperfections of our marriage. Stroke by stroke, the resentment and anger toward him I’d carried all those years blurred away until I could finally smile when I thought back on him. It was nice to remember him that way instead of how we’d lived most of our lives, but it also drove home the guilt that I’d moved on so quickly.
But, good or bad, Bruce was gone now, and it was time to take down our photos and say goodbye to that part of my life. As hard as it would be to shut the door and pack decades of a life into boxes, it was time. And I had no choice. My house was going on the market, and I would be making my full-time home with Tom after the wedding.
“Yoo hoo!” Doris called from the sidewalk as she hustled up with Alice and Marge in tow. “You’re here! You made it!”
I dropped my bag and hurried back to the doorway, swinging it wide open and capturing them in my arms as we squished into a group hug.
“Oh, I missed you!” I squeezed them tight, closing my eyes as my truest friends smashed me in between them. “I missed you so much.”
“Right back at you.” Alice brushed a kiss on my cheek.
“Damn, it’s good to see ya, girl.” Marge let go first, clearing her throat as she straightened her button-down shirt. “Too bad you didn’t get in last night as planned. You missed margaritas at Alice’s.”
With a frown, I answered, “I know. Some stupid engine problem, so we all got grounded while they switched flights. I was so mad because I knew you ladies were having fun without me.”
I released my grip on them, standing back to look into the faces of the women who had changed my life. Over a year had passed since I’d first met them, but they still looked the same as that fateful day they’d knocked on my door. Alice was as elegant as ever, perhaps even a little more elegant if that was possible. Marge’s bowl cut hadn’t changed even one bit, like whoever was doing her hair in Vegas had borrowed the bowl she’d always used from her mother’s kitchen. And Doris was still Doris, beautiful and sweet with her full rosy cheeks and bright smile.
Doris pulled her small basket against her chest, reached up with a free hand, and touched my face. “Not as much fun as if you’d been there, dear.”
I smiled and pressed a little more weight into her hand.
“But we still had fun. Alotof fun. I had Pedro bartending,” Alice paused and leaned in, “and it’s always extra fun with Pedro around, if you know what I mean.” A sly grin lifted her full lips as she waggled her perfectly manicured eyebrows.
