Brides and Bouquets At Cedarwood Lodge. Rebecca Raisin

only one who routinely set smoke alarms off by burning toast? I was easily distracted and the kitchen was a no-go zone for me if I could help it. The only times I tried out my culinary skills was with Mom and that’s only because she tended to avoid cooking altogether.

      “Darling, don’t you remember? Cruz was a chef before he moved to Manhattan. He worked under Jacques What’s-his-name for about a hundred years before he got dragged into finance by that boss of his with dollar signs for eyeballs, don’t get me started on that guy. Anyway, Cruz was adding these micro herbs to the dish and telling me all about his parents and how much they wanted to meet me, and what did I think about a trip to South America to visit them?”

      “Aw that’s so sweet, he wants to show you off! A trip to South America sounds totally amazing, Amory!” Cruz was a really nice guy in a sea of maybe-nots. Amory pretended it wasn’t serious but it was obvious to me how much he adored her, and she kept him at bay for reasons I couldn’t fathom. To protect her heart, I suspected.

      She rubbed a hand over her face. “Don’t you think it’s a bit… heavy… meeting them?”

      I frowned. “No, I don’t think it’s heavy! You’ve been dating Cruz for over a year now and that’s a long time, especially in Manhattan minutes. It’s the normal progression of things.” It was exasperating at times being so utterly different to Amory. How could she not see this was a sign of commitment from Cruz? Surely that was a good thing?

      Plumping a candy-cane festooned cushion she said, “Darling that might be the normal progression of things for people who are willing to settle down, but that’s not me! They’ll expect some perfect Stepford type, won’t they?”

      “What do you care? You don’t normally let anyone intimidate you.” I had the sneaking suspicion she cared more than usual about what they’d think of her because she really did love Cruz.

      She folded her arms. “I’m not willing to pretend I’m ready for marriage and babies, just because I’m at the age where it’s deemed I should be. Don’t you see? He’s expecting one thing to lead to the next, and I’m not interested in all of that. Next minute I’ll be pregnant with triplets, and living in a cottage without Wi-Fi.” She shuddered, she really didn’t like being without the internet and I had to laugh.

      “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. It sounds romantic, like Cruz was trying to show you he’s committed, and most men in New York would run a mile rather than do that. What happened next, surely that isn’t why you left town?”

      She took a deep breath. “Well then he circled the table, and bent down. On one knee!”

      I dropped the reindeer bunting about the same time my jaw fell open. “Oh my god, he PROPOSED?”

      Color rose up her cheeks and she averted her eyes. “Not exactly.”

      “What do you mean not exactly?”

      “Well,” she put the cushion in place on the chaise and then flopped beside it. “Obviously, I freaked out, didn’t I? He knows I don’t want the whole meet-the-parents, marriage and children thing. I haven’t kept it a secret!”

      I frowned. “But did he or did he not say the words: Will you marry me?”

      She let out a high-pitched squeal. “I don’t know! I blinked rapidly, and pretended I had something in my eye! An eyelash emergency … I told him I’d be back in a minute – I just had to rinse my face…”

      I cupped my mouth and said, “Oh, Amory! You didn’t!”

      “I did, and I went through the bedroom and plunged down the fire escape, and half-ran half-hobbled off into the night.”

      “The fire escape!” I let out a groan. “Amory! But you’re scared of heights!”

      “I’m scared of marriage proposals more! And my poor Manolos will never be the same.” She blinked back tears, I only hoped they weren’t for her expensive designer heels and more for her predicament with Cruz.

      “Forget about the Manolos, what did he do?”

      “He called out saying he just wanted to talk and why was I running, but by then I was breathing hard and quite wild-eyed with it all.”

      I flopped on the opposite chaise, truly stunned. Who’d run away from a guy like Cruz? It was mind-bending. But Amory was my best friend, so I was on her side, always. “Have you spoken since then?”

      She scrunched her eyes closed. “Only by text. I can’t face a phone call. Firstly, I’m terrified of the whole potential proposal thing, and secondly, what if he thinks I’m a basket case for running?”

      “You are a basket case. Maybe he was just going to… serenade you or something. And you with your steely heart threw yourself down a building to get away?”

      She covered her face and mumbled, “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking rationally at the time. Once I got home that night I emailed the agency and told them I was taking a sabbatical and then made my way here, all before I could change my mind. And then I thought about telling you and wanted to dissolve into the floor. So now you know.” Her face paled at the recollections and I moved to hug her, silly girl that she was. All that fuss, just so she could avoid hearing someone declare their love.

      “Shouldn’t you at least talk to him? Put the poor guy out of his misery?”

      She shook her head, “I texted him that I was here and taking a break.”

      “And what was his reply?”

      “Take all the time I need, he’d wait for me.”

      “Wow, what a monster he is,” I said.

      She lobbed an inflatable Santa at me, which bounced off and hit Micah as he walked back through the door holding a tray of steaming hot eggnog and plates of Christmas cookies. “Whoa!” he said, just managing to right the mugs as they wobbled, eggnog splashing over the sides.

      “Sorry,” Amory said. “It was Santa’s fault.”

      We sat and each took a drink, cradling the mugs for warmth, and then my phone pinged. I sighed, expecting it to be an anxious text from one of the brides attending the expo. Instead it was from Timothy: ‘Great to catch up the other night, would love to have dinner with you sometime this week? Timothy x’.

      My stomach flipped. I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about Timothy, there hadn’t been time to really ruminate about it all. So I texted back quickly, shielding my phone from Amory’s prying eyes: ‘Hey, Tim! The impromptu drinks were fab.’ I paused, weighing up what else to say. It wasn’t as though we’d planned to meet, so technically it wasn’t a date, more two old friends being at the same place at the same time. ‘Can I take a rain check for dinner for some time after New Year? Hope the kids are well!’

      It wasn’t that I didn’t feel a frisson of something there, it was more he was a father and I had to tread carefully, realizing he was a package deal. And those kids weren’t exactly amenable to some stranger wandering into their lives. Five-year-old Scarlett had given me the slit-throat gesture, which I still hadn’t quite recovered from…

      Better to stick to other people’s love lives for now. After a deep drink of eggnog, I said, “So what now?”

      Amory took up a gingerbread man, biting his head off in one fell swoop. Between crunches she said, “Look, darling, there’s no question I adore the man, but I want to move along on my terms. This may sound ironic coming from a girl who plans weddings for a living, but I just don’t want to be told there’s stages and like clockwork I have to tick them off, just because everyone else does.”

      Without the bedlam of the big city there was time to talk seriously about these big, life changing things on a deeper level than we would have in Manhattan. Time moved at a slower pace at Cedarwood. We let ourselves relax, confessions were mulled over – rather than answered quickly and less thoughtfully