Moonlight, Menorahs and Mistletoe by Wendy Warren

Author:Wendy Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-09-12T22:18:29+00:00

* * *

Eden dug Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand from the large bag she always brought with her to Charlene’s. “Do you want to see if Major Pettigrew is making any progress with Mrs. Ali?” she asked. “I’ll make mint tea to go with the cookies.”

Sun had broken through the clouds to turn the gray day into a palette of blue and gold and burnt orange. Perfect for tea, cookies and a British romance.

Charlene was out of bed and seated in the living room on this Sunday, albeit in her wheelchair, with Eden seated on the sofa. Barney had headed to work a few minutes ago, leaving Eden in charge of making Charlene’s Sunday as enjoyable as possible. Eden rose now with the intention of setting up a proper tea, but Charlene reached for her arm, hand quivering. “Not...now. Want...to...talk. Sit.”

Charlene rarely wanted to converse these days due to the slowness of her speech. Eden sat again instantly, waiting as Charlene worked to form her words.

“Barney...takes...good...care...of...me. Always...not...just...now.”

Eden nodded. “I know. You’ve always taken wonderful care of him, too.”

“We’ve...had...good...life,” Charlene continued. “Simple...and...good.” She paused, her thin brows drawing together. “Don’t...let... Barney...” There was a longer hesitation as she seemed to search for the word she wanted. “...mope. When... I’m...gone. He...has...to...keep...going. That’s...important.”

Eden felt as if she’d been shocked with ice water. She may have feared for Charlene’s life in the very beginning of her health crisis, but not since. Scooting forward on the sofa cushion, she put her hand on her friend’s knee and spoke adamantly. “You are going to be fine. You’re getting stronger. You were super healthy before this happened, and you’ve got plenty of years left. You’re not going anywhere, young lady. Besides, you still have to teach me how to bake challah. Remember? You told me a few years ago that every bride needs to know how to make a great challah.”

“You...never...wanted...to...learn.”

“Well, that was before.”

Charlene’s sea-blue eyes began to sparkle, ageless and undimmed by her health struggles in this moment. Perceptive as ever, she tilted her head. “Change...your...mind...about...bread? Or...marriage?”

Quite a while ago Eden had shared with Charlene that she’d been married once and wasn’t inclined to revisit the institution. She hadn’t gone into detail, and Charlene hadn’t pried, but clearly her memory was sharp as always. Eden shrugged, offering a smile. “Maybe both.”

As limited as her facial muscles were, Charlene managed to convey her surprise and pleasure.

“I’m a horrible cook,” Eden reminded her friend, though apparently the prompt was unnecessary.

“I...know,” Charlene agreed darkly, no doubt remembering the brisket Eden had attempted once when she’d invited the Gleasons to dinner at her place. She’d cooked the hapless cut of meat until it resembled charred wood. Utterly inedible. The mashed potato side hadn’t been any better as no one had told her that putting potatoes in a blender rendered them gummy and gross.

“Teaching me to braid a challah could take years,” Eden warned. “So you’d better be prepared to stick around.”

“Okay,” Charlene agreed with more enthusiasm than Eden had witnessed in her friend in some time.

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