"Sorry I'm late," Sara said as she unwound her black scarf and shimmied out of her overcoat.
"I only just arrived." Rosalind smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm glad you picked this teahouse. It's adorable."
"My mother loved it here." She nodded in thanks at the waitress who took her coat, tugged her skirt straight, and sat across the table. "I haven't been here in a while."
She felt both sadness and envy-envy because she and her mother had never had proper tea together. "It's difficult planning a wedding without your parents at hand, especially your mother."
"Mum would have loved to see me find someone to love." Sara blinked her eyes a few times, sniffling, and then shook her head. "But you've lost your father, too. You must be sad."
Was she?
Yes. The answer was irrefutable. Only her sadness wasn't that she lost him-it was because she'd never had him to begin with. "My relationship with my father was complicated," she said lightly, smiling at the waitress who came to take their order.
After they asked for a pot of tea and scones, Sara said, "I'm sure your father loved you, even if he showed it materially. He must have left you and your sisters nice inheritances."
The only inheritance Reginald Summerhill would leave his daughters was daddy issues.
Now wasn't the time to have those bitter thoughts. She opened her sketchpad. "We should talk about happy things, like your wedding dress. I drew some initial ideas. They're raw sketches without any details. I wanted to see what sort of shape you'd like before going further."
Sara frowned at the designs.
"If you don't like any of them, I can start over," Rosalind offered.
"No, they're lovely." She hesitated and then said, "I just wonder if they're me."
"If you're thinking of what Nick said about your wardrobe, don't."
She looked down at herself. "I wonder if he wasn't right, though. Is the black awful?"
"What do you do?"
"I'm a solicitor."
"Like Nick." She smiled at the waitress, who set their treats on the table. "You're lucky you have such a close friend in him. Did you two go to school together as well?"
"No." Shaking her head, she lined up her utensils neatly in order before reaching for a scone. "Nick's four years older than me."
Rosalind studied the other woman as she poured their tea. Nick was right-black didn't really suit Sara. "I understand you need to dress conservatively, but you could spice up your wardrobe with splashes of color here and there without compromising too much."
"What do you mean?" Sara asked.
She unwound the scarf from her neck and held it out. "Take this."
"I couldn't possibly. That's your scarf."
"And I'm giving it to you. Our skin tones are similar and the colors will be perfect on you." She nodded her head. "I want you to have it."
Sara took it reluctantly. "You're sure?"
"I wouldn't offer it if I weren't." She watched the woman drape it around her neck. "Lovely. These scones look lovely, too."
"Thank you."
She looked up, surprised by Sara's overly serious tone. She smiled and shrugged. "It's no big deal. I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. But if it helps, think of it as an engagement gift."
