The Next Best Thing

“Very nice to see you again,” Dad said with an adorably shy smile.

“You, too, John,” Jane said, tilting her head to smile back. Jane and John. So cute.

“Please, sit down,” Dad said, holding out a chair.

“Thank you.” She looked around. “Um, is this...all?” Jane asked, surveying the shrimp and pasta dish Faith had ordered from the caterers. “I’m sorry. I’m a vegan. A rawist, actually.”

Life without cheeseburgers? So sad. “Right. Um, I’ll find you something.” The caterers should have a veggie platter somewhere.

“And what is a rawist, my dear?” Pops said, turning on the charm (the better to irritate Goggy).

“I only eat raw food,” Jane answered.

“Why?” Mrs. Johnson asked. “Are you sick?”

“Oh, no, it’s by choice. For health reasons,” Jane said as Faith intercepted the vegetable tray from one of the servers. “Thanks, Faith. This’ll be perfect.” She took an impressive handful of baby carrots and began shoving them into her mouth like popcorn, crunching madly. And another handful. And some celery. Her mouth worked faster than a wood chipper, Faith thought.

“You eat raw meat? That can’t be good for you,” Goggy pronounced.

Jane paused in her crop decimation. “I don’t eat meat. Raw vegetables and fruits only.”

“What about bread?” Abby asked.

“Nope. Gluten is poison for me.” She picked up another handful of carrots and started chainsawing through them, little flecks of orange flying from her lips. “You should try it. I have literally no mucus issues anymore. And I’m never constipated.”

Dad had that hide me look on his face, and Ned was choking with laughter. Jane did have very strong-looking teeth, Faith noted. The veggie platter was supposed to serve twenty, but at the rate Jane was going, she’d polish that off, then start on the table, which was hopefully gluten-free.

“Faith,” Pru said, draining her wine, “where’s Colleen and the hard stuff? You did say we were having an open bar, right?”

Yes, where were Connor and Colleen? Faith checked her phone. No messages. She sent a quick text, asking if they needed help. It was getting to be crunch time. She excused herself and started putting the centerpieces on the tables, which had been covered with pale blue tablecloths.

Prudence approached, a shrimp in each hand. “The place looks beautiful,” she said. She was wearing dress pants and work boots, as well as a low-cut white sweater. An impressive purple hickey stood out on her throat.

“Thanks,” Faith said. “So things are good with Carl?”

Pru shrugged. “Yes and no. I kicked him out.”

“What? Why?”

“We did it the other night, right? Good old married sex, nothing fancy. Finally, right? Then he says he wants to film us—”

“What?”

“Right. So he’s staying at his mother’s. Figured it’ll shake him up a little.”

Faith nodded as if she understood. “Um...you have a big hickey, you know.”

“Really? Damn it. Should’ve looked in the mirror, I guess. Anyway, nice job here!” She poured herself another glass of wine and drank it like it was water.

The DJ asked where he should set up, and Faith directed him to one corner. Then, after two more questions from the caterer had been answered, Faith adjusted the light under the maple tree, fixed the door, which was sticking, and found Pops’s lower denture plate in a gooey nut cookie. She worked the teeth free as Goggy had a fit that Pops was eating nuts when his gastroenterologist specifically said not to. As Jane was eating half her body weight in roughage, Faith asked Mrs. Johnson if she might have any more vegetables, earning a glare from the housekeeper and some dark mutterings about people having evolved enough to cook their food. Faith took that as a yes, ran down to the New House, raided the fridge, cut up red peppers, carrots and broccoli, then cleaned the kitchen at lightning speed, because Mrs. Johnson hated anyone to leave a mess in her workspace. Then she power-walked back up the Hill, in heels, managing not to drop a single pepper slice.

Magical. Yeah, right. She was sweating, how magical was that? And the guests were just starting to trickle in.

Honor appeared at Faith’s side. “Lorena’s here,” she growled. “I thought you took care of that.”

“I didn’t invite her. I guess Dad did.”

“Check out that dress, Faith.”

Lorena was currently kissing Pops on the cheek, bending over the old man, who clearly didn’t mind. And the thing was, Lorena’s dress...the woman had to weigh somewhere around two hundred pounds and was sixty years old if she was a day but, for some reason that went against nature and God’s law, had chosen to wear a skin-tight rubbery black dress. No back. White granny panties, though, clearly visible.

Faith’s breath left her in a rush. “That’s—I...gotta give her points for, um, confidence. Maybe Dad should pay for that boob job. Wow.”

Honor was not amused. “You said you could find him someone, Faith. That other woman, the gardener, is talking about how often she poops, and here’s Lorena, dressed like Lady Gaga. Can’t you do better?” Before Faith could answer, Honor walked away.

With a sigh, Faith went over to say hello to Lorena. “Hello, sweetie!” Lorena boomed. “And just who do we have here?” She was glaring at Jane, who sat next to Dad.

Jane paused in her chewing. “I’m a friend,” she said, looking Lorena up and down.

“A friend? A friend of who?” Lorena asked, her expression lowering.

“A friend of whom? Is that what you mean?” Jane smiled tightly and took another celery stick.

“Cat fight,” Ned murmured as he walked past Faith, phone in his hand.

Next time Faith felt the urge to throw a party, she’d ask Pru to duct tape her into a chair.

And things hadn’t even started.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LEVI PULLED ON HIS suit jacket, the one usually saved for weddings or funerals. The whole town had been invited to old Mr. and Mrs. Holland’s anniversary party, the police chief included. He hadn’t seen Faith much since the night he’d kissed her. Last weekend had been Columbus Day, and what with Sarah home and all the tourists, the biplane show out on the lake, the wine tasting on the green, the wooden boat parade, he hadn’t had a free minute. Not that he knew what he’d do with it, to be honest.

On Monday night, he’d driven Sarah back to school, stopping at Target to get her some stuff to make her dorm room more homey, pillows and girly stuff like that. Then he’d taken Sarah and her roommate out to dinner. Seemed like they were getting along just fine, those two girls.

As he’d said goodbye to his sister, he’d tried to find something to say about their mom, something similar to what Faith had said, but nothing sounded right, so he’d just given her fifty bucks and told her to study hard. Drove back to Manningsport and tried to chop away at the mountain of paperwork on his desk at the station, even if it was ten o’clock at night.

Thought about Faith.

Yeah, she was...delicious. He was a guy, he was straight, she was luscious and lived across the hall from him. Also, she smelled good. And though he’d once viewed her as an irritating puppy of a person, she was...more.

That didn’t mean he wanted to date her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to date anyone right now. His divorce wasn’t even two years old.

He should really stop thinking about her.

Levi drove up the Hill and turned into Blue Heron’s driveway, where a line of cars was heading up the long dirt road that bordered one of the fields. There was a tasteful new sign with the gold and blue vineyard logo on it: The Barn at Blue Heron, 0.4 miles. As ever, it amazed him how much land the Hollands owned.

At the top of the ridge, a field served as a parking lot. Rock walls divided it up, the walls looking as if they’d been there forever, though Levi was pretty sure they were new.

“Levi, hey!” Jeremy approached from the field. Living next door, he must’ve walked over.

“Hey, Jer. How’s it going?”

“Very well, my friend. How are you?”

Levi had heard from Emmaline that Faith and Jeremy had been at O’Rourke’s the other night, laughing it up. The news had caused a ping of jealousy to echo through him. Which was stupid, of course. The two of them had a history. Everyone knew that.

Didn’t stop that pinging, though.

People were streaming toward a path flanked by two maple trees, which were lit from the bottom by small spotlights, casting the yellow leaves in a warm, golden light. The path was wide, a stone wall running along one side, little copper lamps lighting the way. A wood thrush called, and farther away, an owl hooted. Somewhere in the distance was the sound of rushing water.

Suddenly, Levi recognized where they were. He’d been here before. Twelve years ago, he and Faith had eaten lunch about a hundred yards from here, over by the waterfall.

“Have you ever been out here?” Jeremy asked like a fricking psychic or something. “There’s a nice place to swim.”

Ah. So Jeremy had been here, too. Well, sure. He was the one who dated Faith. “I don’t know. Maybe,” he said. Then they rounded a slight curve in the path, and both men stopped.

“Wow,” Jeremy breathed.

The structure in front of them was both modern and old—the old stone barn, topped with a clear-paneled roof, glowing from the soft lights inside. All around, trees had been lit from below—white birch and silver maple, beech and hickory. There were flower beds, but it wasn’t fussy or precise; it was kind of...magical. Like something out of a fairy tale.

“Levi, Jeremy! So glad you could come!” John Holland greeted them at the big barn door, which was lit with copper lanterns. Two women flanked him; one in what appeared to be a brown paper bag; the other in, ouch, best not to look. Right. Lorena Creech, who’d been sniffing around Faith’s father in recent weeks. “Come on in, see what our Faith has done. Phyllis! How are you! The walk wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“This is unbelievable,” Jeremy said as they went through the barn doors.

Inside was quite possibly even prettier. Lamps made from Blue Heron wine bottles had been fastened to the stone with iron brackets. More wine bottles, the necks cut off, sat on the tables, filled with what looked like wildflowers. People milled about, pointing and exclaiming.

The far wall of the barn was missing, and a two-level deck cantilevered out over the hill. There were more tables out there, and people admired the view, which stretched out past the lighted trees, over the fields and all the way to the lake.

“Levi! I clocked a speeder going past my house at sixty-two miles an hour,” barked Mrs. Nebbins, who owned her own radar gun and phoned him about three times a week. “When are you going to set up a speed trap on my road?”

“I was out there yesterday,” Levi said.

“Well, you need to give more tickets. Or maybe put out some spikes. That’d slow people down, let me tell you.”

“Phyllis, you just get more beautiful, if that’s possible,” Jeremy murmured, kissing her cheek.

“Oh, Jeremy, you liar!” she said. “Have you seen Faith? Is it hard? Is she still in love with you? She probably is, poor thing. Listen, my knee is out of whack, and those exercises you gave me didn’t work, so I stopped doing them.”

“Really? How long did you do them?”

“Two days.”

“That’s just insulting,” he said. “Come on, complain away, I’ve got all night. But I want to see that deck.” He escorted the crotchety old lady away, grinning over his shoulder at Levi. Too bad the guy was g*y. He was so good with women.

Levi got a glass of seltzer water and wandered around. The barn smelled of freshly cut wood, grass and food. Lorelei from the bakery was putting some flowers on top of a chocolate cake; she waved and smiled. Colleen manned the bar, which was made from stone and topped with a huge slab of wood. Suzette Minor, she of the mysterious noises and slutty nightgowns, gave him the eye from over the rim of her wineglass. Where was Gerard? Last he heard, they were seeing each other. Levi nodded, turned and bumped into Faith.