Free The Oldest Sin by Ellen Hart Page B

food.”
     
    ‘To friendship and to good food,” repeated the five alumni of Purdis Bible College, clinking their glasses together.
     
    “And to Terrace Lane,” offered Bunny. “We can’t forget that.”
     
    “As much as we’d like to.” Adelle laughed.
     
    Ever since breakfast, a nervous knot had been growing in the pit of Sophie’s stomach as she thought about what it would be like to see her old friends again. What would they talk about? Would their conversations seem stiff, stilted? Would Adelle’s presence stifle any real comments about the college and the church? And perhaps most important, would they even like each other anymore?
     
    Before everyone arrived, Sophie had puttered around the suite she’d reserved for the evening, making sure all the pillows were fluffed, arranging the flowers ordered specially for the occasion, and stoking the fire one of the hotel staff had built in the fireplace. After last night’s thunderstorm, the weather had turned chilly. A fire was just the right touch. This party, after all, was her way of honoring the people she’d once called her dearest friends on earth.
     
    As everyone filtered into the room shortly after ten, Sophie watched in amazement as the years dropped away. They were back once again at Terrace Lane, laughing and poking fun at each other. The chemistry that had once made them close was still evident. It warmed Sophie deeply to see her friends again — everyone so animated, so clearly delighted to be in each other’s company.
     
    As she moved around the room making sure all the champagne glasses were full, Sophie couldn’t help but be amazed by how little most of them had changed. Then again, perhaps this wasn’t the best time for critical evaluation. Everyone was a little giddy with the wine and the reminiscing. Yet, as she stood looking across the room at Bunny, she couldn’t help but smile.
     
    Bunny still looked as solid as a rock. And Lavinia, still flamboyant as ever. Adelle had changed the most. She’d become as thin as the proverbial stick. Also, Sophie felt she detected a certain bitterness in her choice of words, and in the tight way she held her mouth. It made Sophie wonder if she was happy. Perhaps they’d have more time to talk later.
     
    The last person to arrive tonight had been Cindy Shipman, the D.O.S.S. national treasurer. From what she’d been able to glean from their brief attempt at bringing each other up to date, Cindy had remained single. Two years ago, after the death of her father, she’d taken over as head of Shipman Trucking in Norman, Oklahoma.
     
    Cindy and Lavinia had always looked a great deal alike. In college, one had often been mistaken for the other. Even though Sophie could still see the similarities, she was struck now by the differences. Lavinia looked wonderful. Healthy. Vibrant. And while both she and Cindy must have tipped the scales at well over two hundred pounds, everything about Lavinia smacked of glamour and class. Cindy, on the other hand, looked frumpy. She was clearly attempting to be fashionable, yet she missed the mark by miles. It was that failed effort that seemed most pathetic. Bunny had no fashion sense either, yet her jeans fit her personality to a tee. She projected the image of a woman comfortable with who she was and how she dressed. Cindy, on the other hand, projected a discomfort so strong it was almost palpable. Being the curious sort, Sophie couldn’t help but wonder where all the discomfort was coming from.
     
    “This food is fabulous,” called Lavinia, popping another cream cheese ball nugget into her mouth. “These were always my favorites. I haven’t had one in years.”
     
    “It’s just like our Friday nights at Terrace Lane,” declared Bunny. “Remember? Right after Bible study we’d all troop back to the apartment and have our own secret Sabbath celebration.”
     
    “It was the only time all week we allowed ourselves anything other than lettuce leaves,”