44 Charles Street

Marya hugged her in the doorway as she left, and Francesca was smiling as she walked upstairs and ran into Eileen.

“You look happy.”

“I am. Marya Davis, the famous chef and author of many cookbooks, just rented the downstairs room. I’m thrilled, and she said she’d cook for us whenever we want. We’re going to be her guinea pigs for the next year.”

“How cool,” Eileen said, beaming. “I hate to cook.”

“Yeah, me too,” Francesca agreed. It had never been her strong suit, and Todd had been a much better cook than she was. “Well, that’s it. We’ve got a full house now,” Francesca said, looking pleased and relieved. Her mortgage payments were fully covered now without Todd. And they were a good group. Eileen, Chris, and now Marya. She had been very lucky with the roommates she’d found, contrary to her mother’s dire predictions, and even her own fears, and Todd’s.

It was perfect. The house on Charles Street was alive and full. They were all nice people, and Marya was a wonderful addition. 44 Charles Street was teeming with life. They were even going to be eating great food as soon as Marya moved in. It didn’t get better than that.

Chapter 6

MARYA MOVED IN on Valentine’s Day, and had made delicate wafer-thin heart-shaped gingerbread cookies for all of them before she even unpacked. Chris had been designing a project at the house that day. It was for one of his demanding industrial clients, which was always challenging, and required concentration, and the baking odors drifted up to him, until he could no longer focus on his work, and had to go downstairs to check it out. He found Marya in the kitchen, wearing a plaid apron and humming to herself. Although he had known that she was moving in, he hadn’t met her yet. She turned to him with a broad smile, put down a cookie tray, and shook his hand.

“I’ve never smelled anything so delicious in my entire life!” he said, glancing at the stove. She held out a plate to him, and five of the irresistible cookies vanished instantly and melted in his mouth.

“It’s just an old recipe I dusted off,” she said humbly, and once he was in the kitchen, Chris became aware of other delicious smells as well. She was trying out some new recipes, and making a tried and true one, and thought she’d set some food out for them in case any of them were planning to be home that night. Chris said he was. She invited him to come back later, and help himself to anything he wanted. “It’s so great having all of you to cook for,” she said. She had been so lonely since her husband had died. This was a perfect setup for her, and she was thrilled to be moving in. Her bags were still sitting unopened in her room. She hadn’t been able to resist the lure of the kitchen as soon as she walked in, much to his delight. “I hear you have an enchanting little boy,” Marya said as Chris poured himself a glass of milk from the fridge. He smiled at her words.

“He’s a good boy. I have him every other weekend, and I usually take him out after school on Wednesday nights. He lives with his mom.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Marya had no children of her own. It had never happened, and in her late fifties, she was of an era where the many options currently available to deal with infertility hadn’t existed yet. So she and her husband had accepted their lot, and devoted themselves to each other. It made the void in her life that much bigger now that he was gone. Having three roommates at the house on Charles Street was going to make her life a much happier place than the lonely home in Vermont that she still loved. But she wanted to be with people. She was ecstatic about the move to New York, and couldn’t wait to visit museums, restaurants, and friends. She was excited about all of it, and had a cheerful, upbeat attitude about life.

Chris went back upstairs to finish his project, and moments later, Marya met Eileen when she came home from work and went to use the computer in the kitchen to check her e-mail. Eileen could smell Marya’s cooking the moment she opened the front door.

“Wow!” Eileen said as she walked into the kitchen, and found herself looking at Marya. She was a pretty woman, and her slim athletic figure was noticeable even in the apron that she wore. “What smells so good?” She couldn’t tell if it was sweet or savory. Marya had put a chicken in the oven for all of them, was making asparagus, and planned to make a cheese soufflé when they all got home. She had baked a heart-shaped chocolate cake for dessert. It was a Valentine’s Day feast.

“I didn’t know if any of you were eating at home tonight, but I thought I’d take a chance. Valentine’s Day is so much fun.” It was a good excuse for a great meal.