The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(54)
She made her way out of the church basement and blinked in the bright sun.
It was one of those perfect, late-September afternoons, clear and cool, the air tart with the smell of changing leaves and pumpkin soup from the little lunch place down the square. A line of preschoolers, all holding onto (or tied to) a rope, made their way across the street. It was a Wednesday, and while a few folks wandered up and down the street, peering into the windows of Presque Antiques and Unique Boutique, it was mostly quiet.
Two days ago, Faith had asked Honor if she knew of any apartments that might be available. Five seconds later, Honor had Sharon Wiles on the phone. Not only was there an apartment available, it was the model, the only one in the building still not rented and furnished, when would Faith like to move in? Faith had to hand it to her; Honor knew everything and everyone in this town.
In the back of the car were two suitcases, a few boxes of miscellaneous kitchen stuff Goggy insisted she couldn’t live without, and Blue, sitting up, disgusting tennis ball in his mouth, head tilted as if trying to use mind control so she’d throw him the ball.
“Hi, sweetie pooch!” Faith said. “Do you love your ball? Is it so slimy and delicious? It is?” Blue chuffed agreeably, wagging his tail. Sharon Wiles hadn’t been crazy about the idea of Blue, but she couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, well behaved and, yes, technically a therapy dog. Hey. It got him into restaurants.
Faith heaved a box out of the back and made her way over to the Opera House, the dog on her heels. Her new domicile was very conveniently located just off the square and directly across from Lorelei’s Sunrise Bakery. Also, there was a new chocolatier that Faith very much wanted to support. But first, she’d settle in, put a set of new sheets on the bed, make some coffee, unpack her clothes. Goggy would be coming over, too; she wanted to make sure the new apartment was clean enough.
For a second, Faith pictured her mom helping her move. In Faith’s mind, Connie Holland had aged beautifully, wore jeans and a T-shirt and Converse sneakers. They’d laugh and rearrange the furniture, something Mom had loved to do. Then they’d get some cookies from Lorelei’s and just talk. Maybe about Jeremy. Faith had wondered a thousand times if Mom would’ve been able to tell.
And all that might’ve been possible, Faith reminded herself, if it hadn’t been for her own self.
“Come on, Blue,” Faith said, opening the door. Up the wide staircase to the third floor, her dog following, ball in mouth. Her apartment was 3A, which overlooked Lorelei’s. Thank you, Jesus, she’d wake up to the smell of bread. She shifted the box and fumbled in her pocket for the keys.
The door to 3C opened, and there stood Levi Cooper in uniform. His forehead crinkled in a frown. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Blue leaped over to Chief Grouchy and dropped the ball. When Levi didn’t understand, the dog picked the ball up again and dropped it. Repeated, not caring that Levi was staring at Faith like a python eyeing a mouse. Whatever little bonding nanosecond they’d had at the shooting range was obviously a figment of her imagination.
“Levi. What a lovely surprise. Are we neighbors?” Faith kept her tone bright and chirpy, but a blush was prickling its way up her chest. Granted, housing options were limited—the Opera House was the only apartment building in town, but come on.
“Are you moving in?” Levi asked.
“You can tell that? It’s astonishing. How did you know? Here, hold this.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved the box at him.
“You’re moving in.”
“It’s like you’re psychic. Thrilling, really. You should stop scowling. You’ll need Botox before you know it.”
Blue was still dropping and redropping the ball, trying to clue in the dopey human. Faith had the door open now and reclaimed the box. “See you around, neighbor.”
She went into the cute little apartment, set the box down and then looked out the peephole. He was gone.
So Levi Cooper lived in 3C. That was okay. Free country and all that. They’d probably never see each other. Which was fine. Okay, yes, they’d see each other sometimes.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Blue was sniffing the corners. The dog had a point. This was their new place, at least for a while; Sharon had let her do a month-to-month rental, since some income was better than no income.
And the apartment was lovely. The floors were the original, narrow birch planks, soulfully scuffed from a hundred and fifty years of use, now polished to a high gloss. The actual theater part of the opera house was on the fifth floor; Faith imagined the third floor had been a workspace for set-making or costume storage or the like. From the front windows, not only could she inhale the glorious smells coming from the bakery, but she also had a glimpse of Keuka and a very nice view of the green.
The kitchen had granite countertops and an island, as well as a built-in wine rack. There was a tiny study where she could set up her computer and stalk potential mates for both her father and herself. And work, of course. In addition to the barn and the library courtyard, she’d had a request for a design from another vineyard across the lake, and two private homes.
The door opened and in came Goggy, holding a tiny box, and Levi, holding two much larger ones. “Look who I found!” Goggy crowed. “Levi Cooper, our chief of police!”
“I know who he is, Goggy,” Faith said. “Thanks, Levi.”