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"Primo!"

Molly was promptly enveloped in Amy's arms and she clung tightly, feeling such relief to be

held by her friend that she almost wept, her emotions were sitting so close to the surface.

She managed to pull herself together before Amy let her go and held her at arms' length,

a whirlwind, as always.

"God, you are so fucking gorgeous." Amy sounded as if she was scolding Molly, but her face shone with pride. "How is it that you always look this fucking gorgeous when the rest of us are simply getting old? Your hair looks fantastic. And you've been working out, haven't

you? You've lost weight."

Molly let the compliments settle over her like a warm, thick, and cozy blanket, cushioning

her from the current jagged rockiness of her life. She made no attempt at explaining that

she seemed to have misplaced her appetite lately, thus the weight loss. Instead she

allowed herself to be coddled, to be nurtured by her closest friend in the world, leaning

into her shoulder, mentally letting Amy hold her up.

"Hi there, beautiful." Jo appeared and opened her arms to Molly. She was a good six or seven inches tal er and Molly always felt indescribably safe around her. Locking her arms

around Jo's neck, she hoped her solid grip didn't feel too much like desperation. It was

just so good to feel loved, and Jo had always seemed like a guardian angel, the one who

could be counted on to chase the boogeyman away.

"Doesn't she look amazing?" Amy said.

"She always does," was Jo's answer, as she gave Molly's cheek a quick stroke of her thumb before moving to the back of the car.

"You should talk, Ames," Molly said, pushing playfully at her. "I don't know why you're complaining about getting old. You still look thirty."

It was true. Whether dressed to the nines or slumming it in ratty old sweats, Amy had

always been a head-turner, looking classy, elegant, and approachable. It was a rare

combination and one that made men and women alike stop in mid-sentence to watch her

walk through her restaurant; Molly had seen it happen over and over again.

Jo knocked on the trunk and Molly obediently popped it open. Slinging a bag over her

shoulder and hauling out a second one, Jo asked the question Molly had been waiting for.

"Where's Kristin?"

"Something came up at work." Molly leaned into the front seat to grab her shoulder bag and school her expression. She didn't have to look to know Amy and Jo were exchanging a

knowing glance over the roof of the car. "She'll be here tomorrow." Standing up straight, she jerked her chin toward the house and asked, "Is there wine in there?"

"You know it." Amy hooked an arm through Molly's and led her indoors.

"Holy shit." Molly's jaw dropped open as she took in an interior she didn't recognize.

Pride flushed Amy's cheeks. "You like it?"

"Like it? Like it? My God, Ames." Molly turned to Jo, whose arms were still full of baggage.

"Did you do all this?"

Amy answered for her. "Damn right she did."

"Holy shit," Molly said again as she shed her white, down-filled coat. "The last time I was here was.. .when?"

"Two years ago?" Amy clarified.

"At least. Too long. God, it looked like...a cabin then. Nice, but bare and..." Her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words. "Like a cabin. This is nicer than my house. Hell, this is nicer than most houses. Unbelievable."

Amy took her coat and Molly stepped out of her hikers before following Jo and her bags up

the stairs that were tucked off in a corner to the right of the living room. The walls were

regular drywall, painted a soothing khaki color, but the artwork and accessories scattered

about kept the overall atmosphere one of nature and the woods. Molly glanced at a painting

on the wall of the stairway. It was a Native American piece showing an adult and a small

child watching the sun set over a lake in autumn. The oranges, reds, and browns gave off a

surprisingly soothing aura and Molly had to resist the urge to stop and stare.

Jo made a right at the top of the stairs and Molly followed her into what would bejier

bedroom for the week. The floor was hardwood, the visible knots lending it a rustic look.

The bed was queen-sized, centered on a braided rug and made neatly with a quilt and throw

pillows in the same reds, oranges, and browns of the painting with a few greens tossed in

for good measure, giving the whole room a sense of earthiness and comfort.

"Jo," she said, her voice hushed with awe as if she was afraid of disturbing the calm. "This is beautiful."

"Thanks, Molly-girl." Jo's cheeks flushed with pride. "I'm glad you like it. I hope you can kick back and relax this week."

"I'm sure as hell going to try." Molly crossed the room to the window, which looked out the back of the house onto the yard and the woods beyond. If I can't relax in this place, I'm

doomed. "Thank you so much for inviting us. We can really use the get-away."

The statement was a loaded one and Jo's expression showed she understood. "The

bathroom's right here." She indicated the room at the top of the stairs. "You'll be sharing with two of our friends. You'll remember Sophie, but I'm not sure you've ever met Laura.

They'll be in the room across the hall."

Molly peeked into the other room. It was very much like hers but contained two twin beds

instead of a queen.

"Even the youngest nieces and nephews are getting too old to share a bed," Jo said with a wink.

Molly agreed. "I remember my teenage years, and the last thing in the world I wanted to

do was share anything with my sister."

They returned to the living room and Molly warmed her hands by the fire, amazed by how

much her body and mind were already beginning to feel at ease.

Amy promptly handed her a glass of deep ruby red wine and toasted, "To the new year."

Molly clinked her glass against Amy's, adding, "It can only be better than the last."

They sipped, the sound of crystal on crystal stil ringing sweetly through the room.

"Oh, this is good," Molly said as a delicious warmth spread across her palate and seemed to fill her soul as well.

"One of the biggest benefits of owning a restaurant.. .you get to taste all the best wines."

Amy gestured to the couch. "Sit with me. Tell me what's been happening in your life."

"I've missed you, Ames." Molly said two and a half hours later. She and Amy were still chattering on like birds in springtime. Feet were curled up under legs on the couch as they

faced one another, taking

turns fil ing in the space of the last month, unable to believe they'd gone four weeks

without more than a quick hello on the telephone.

"I've missed you, too, Primo. Any time you need to talk, call the cell phone."

Molly grimaced and shook her head. "I don't like to interrupt your work day. I know how

busy you get."

Amy held up a hand, forestalling any further comment. "The sale of the restaurant is

almost final. I have much more free time than I used to. Besides, I wouldn't tell you to call the cell if I was worried about you interrupting me. You're never an interruption.

Understand?" She reached over and stroked a hand affectionately down Molly's arm.

Molly studied the empty glass in her hand, turning it slowly in her fingers and watching the

tiny burgundy-colored remnant of liquid coat the bottom. "Okay."

Before they could pick up their conversation again, the front door opened and Jo appeared

from the garage where she'd been puttering, allowing the two friends time to catch up.

"Look what I found wandering around outside."

A tall, striking figure stepped through the door behind Jo, and Amy jumped up from the

couch. "Sophie! You made it."

"What a gorgeous drive it was today," Sophie said as Amy helped her off with her coat and Jo took hold of the duffel bag at her feet. "I don't know that I've ever paid as much

attention before."

Molly studied the newcomer, trying to remember where she'd met her before. Sophie was

of average height, which put her a few inches shorter than Jo and a few inches taller than

Molly. Her black hair fell in corkscrew curls and just skimmed her shoulders, the ends

tipped with blond highlighting in a very hip style. Her eyes were such a light brown, Molly

suspected they changed color slightly depending on her outfit. Her skin was the rich and

creamy brown of coffee with just a touch of milk and her figure was lean, but curvaceously

feminine, with broad shoulders and rounded hips.

"Molly?" Amy held her arm out and Molly stood. "You remember our friend, Sophie Wilson?"

Sophie held out her hand. "The Memorial Day party, maybe?"

As Molly took her hand, recognition clicked. Amy and Jo had thrown a party at their home

in the city the previous May. "That's it.

You're the graphic designer, right? I knew we'd met before. Molly DiPrima."

"And you're a teacher?"

Molly nodded, pleased.

"Big kids or small?" Sophie asked.

"Kindergarten."

"Yikes. So, really small. And how excited were they at the approaching vacation?"

"Almost as excited as their teacher," Molly said with a smirk.

Sophie laughed warmly. "I'll bet. Well, it's good to see you again."

"Same here."As Jo led Sophie away upstairs, Molly commented quietly to Amy, "She seems nice."

"Sophie's great." Lowering her voice, Amy added, "She's had a recent breakup, about five or six months ago."

Molly grimaced. "Oh, that's too bad. Were they together long?"

"At least a few years, but I'm not sure exactly. I don't really know a lot about their

relationship. Kelly didn't seem to go many places with Sophie. They each kind of did their

own thing." Amy wrinkled her nose. "I'l never understand couples who live that way."

"I had a boss whose marriage was like that," Molly said. "He and his wife always took separate vacations. She'd go with her friends to the Bahamas or something. He'd take a

week in Myrtle Beach and play golf with his buddies. I don't even think they shared a bed

half the time. They had separate bathrooms. Call me old-fashioned, but I just think that's

weird. Why bother being married at all?"

"People have their reasons, I guess." Keeping an eye on the stairs, Amy lowered her voice to the barest of whispers. "Sophie almost always showed up at parties and get-togethers

alone. I think Jo and I have met Kelly all of three times. I'm not even sure I could pick her out of a line-up, now that I think about it. How sad is that?"

"It says a lot about their relationship, don't you think? Not that I know a thing about

them, but still... Maybe it's better that they broke up."

"I suppose." Amy looked dubious. "This was Sophie's first holiday alone, so we thought it would be good for her to be around some new people. Plus, our friend Laura, who's coming

on Wednesday, is,also alone after several years."

Molly grinned and poked her friend playfully. "Are you playing matchmaker?"

"No! Absolutely not."

"Because Jo told you that you weren't allowed?"

Amy smirked. "There is that." They both laughed. "Seriously, though, I'm simply trying to help out a couple of friends. I just thought that this way, neither of them will be the only

singles on New Year's Eve. We all know how much fun that is."

"Ugh. Been there, done that. It sucks."

"Sure does."

AMY

S

team was filling the master bath with a thick, warm fog that smelled of vanil a and brown

sugar. Amy slipped her fingers under the faucet, testing the temperature. She made a

minor adjustment to the cold and then searched the drawer under the sink for a box of

matches. The simple ritual of lighting each of the eight fat, scented candles that

surrounded the oversized tub comforted her.

Soaking in a hot bath was Amy's idea of bliss. She didn't get to do it nearly often enough,

but there were nights that Jo insisted, going so far as to fill the tub for her, light the

candles, and deliver a soothing glass of red wine or brandy. "It's good for your body and it's good for your head," she would say, and Amy tended to agree.

Jo had remodeled the master bath just for her, and done it as a surprise, making sure the

tub was large and deep, with whirlpool jets and a skylight above. It was a haven for Amy

and she adored ft.

v She twisted her auburn red hair back into a knot and clipped it at the base of her neck,

doing one last mental check to make sure her guests had everything they needed. They'd

had a terrific dinner and were enjoying some pleasant conversation, but when three of the

four of them yawned simultaneously around ten o'clock, Jo had taken the bull by the horns

and suggested they call it a night. Everybody had laughed, and comments about age were

tossed about, but nobody had argued. The day had been busy and all four of them were still

coming down from the chaos of the Christmas holiday.

Amy had double-checked the upstairs bathroom for towels, made sure the guest bedrooms

were warm enough, and was asking about

extra pillows when Sophie had threatened to toss her bodily down the stairs if she didn't

leave them alone and get herself some rest.

"God, you're beautiful."

Amy looked up, startled, and caught Jo's admiring glance in the mirror. Leaning against the

door frame in her panties and a Buffalo Bills T-shirt, arms folded over her chest, Jo let

her rich brown eyes travel slowly down Amy's body, causing goose bumps to break out

despite the silken warmth of her ivory-colored robe. Her expression was so full of

affection that Amy felt her eyes well.