Once Upon a Winter's Heart

by Melody Carlson

  Emma continued to survey the art pieces, but her mind was still stuck on the conversation she’d been having—or almost having—with Lane. Was she imagining it, or was he flirting with her? And if he was flirting with her, should she be alarmed? Or insulted? Or just plain confused? And what about those red roses he’d sent to her sister—

  “Emma!” Her father eagerly grasped her by the hand. “I was hoping to see you here tonight.” Now he stared at her coat with a slightly puzzled expression. “You look very lovely.” He rubbed his chin. “You know, I got your mother a coat very similar to that one…this past Christmas.”

  She gave him a sheepish look. “I know, Dad. Exactly like this one.”

  His brows arched. “Ahhh…I see.”

  “Mom said it was too big for her…and the wrong color.” She smiled happily. “But I adore it. She made me wear it and I must admit that it feels delicious. You have wonderful taste, Daddy.”

  He laughed. “Well, then it must’ve been meant for you.” He shook his head. “Come to think of it, it doesn’t look like your mother’s style at all. It belongs on a tall beautiful Italian woman—just like you.”

  She held her head higher. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Now they strolled along together, studying and commenting on the various pieces of art. And it was truly enjoyable being with her dad like this. She was surprised that his knowledge of art was more polished than she expected. But it did bother her that her parents couldn’t enjoy an evening like this together. That seemed just wrong…and sad.

  “Dad?” she began quietly. “Do you even miss Mom?”

  He made an attempt at a smile. “Sure, I do. But to be honest, it’s been nice and quiet around the house too. Gives a man a chance to reflect.”

  “And have you been reflecting?”

  He nodded. “Some.”

  “And you’re not getting lonely?”

  He nodded again. “Some.”

  “I’m curious, Dad,” she lowered her voice, “what would it take to get you two back together?”

  He shrugged. “She’s the one who left, Emma. She can come back whenever she likes. I haven’t changed the locks.”

  “But maybe you need to invite her to come back. Make her feel wanted and loved and appreciated.”

  “How about me? What if I want to feel wanted and loved and appreciated?”

  Another couple was moving closer to them now so Emma just nodded. “I get that,” she said evenly. “I just wish you guys could sit down and talk about it.”

  “I’m perfectly willing.”

  “So maybe I should be working on, uh, the other party?” she spoke even more guardedly since the room was getting crowded.

  He shrugged. “The other party may have already moved on.”

  “And that’s okay with you?”

  Rob gave her his business smile although his eyes looked troubled as he waved at some friends of his that were approaching. This conversation was definitely over. And, really, this wasn’t the time or place for it anyway. Instead Emma put on her game face too, smiling as her father introduced her to his friends. Then, as they all chatted and commented on the various works of art, she tried to appear involved, but the truth was she was keeping an eye on Lane and Anne. And from what she could see, Anne was keeping Lane on a very short leash tonight.

  After a bit, she excused herself to go and check on Tristan and the magic show, but Tristan appeared to be keeping his word and minding his manners. So she just waved at him, then went to see what was displayed in the back section of the gallery. It was quieter back there, and as she perused the paintings, a particular one caught her attention. She wasn’t sure what it was that captivated her, because she knew enough about art to know that it wouldn’t be considered a great work by anyone. Some might even call it trite or clichéd or overly sweet. But she wouldn’t. Plus she knew that the true value of art was always in the eyes of the beholder. And she really liked this piece.

  She stepped back to view it better. Simple and straightforward, it was merely a lighthouse on a craggy piece of shore, shrouded with a dusky fog. But something about the warm glow of the light in the tower and the crashing of the frothy waves below gave her a feeling of safety and shelter and peace. She peered down at the signature to see the name Randolph Lawrence, and although she knew it was a local artist, it didn’t ring any bells. She didn’t see any other works by this particular painter. But what did it matter? Besides, she reminded herself, this was all for a good cause. And so she removed the card with the price and the item number and took it up to the woman acting as cashier. She paid for her purchase, writing down her name and information on the back of the card.

  “You can pick up your painting anytime next week,” the woman explained. “We plan to run the exhibit throughout the weekend as well so that any purchases made throughout Sunday will go to the Big Brothers Big Sisters program.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Emma slid her debit card back into her purse. “I’ll pick it up on Monday. Thanks!”

  After a bit Emma found her mother, and they both decided they’d seen enough and were ready to go home. And since the magic show had just ended, Tristan was happy to leave as well. Emma felt slightly bad not to get a chance to speak to Lane again, but it was clear that Anne was not letting him out of her sight. And, after all, he needed to be on hand to speak to the guests about the Big Brothers Big Sisters program.

  “Well, that was a nice event,” Saundra said they walked to the car. “It looks like they’re making some good money too.”

  “I even bought a painting,” Emma told her.

  “Really? Which one?”

  Emma described the foggy seascape and her mother just chuckled as they got into the car. “Well, that’s very sweet, dear, but I hope you didn’t think it was an investment piece.”

  Emma stifled her irritation as she buckled her seatbelt. “I bought it simply because I like it. I plan to hang it in my bedroom, not sell it on Craigslist.”

  “Yes, and that’s perfectly fine. I bought several pieces myself. And I don’t expect to get rich from them either. Although I will tack my usual percentage onto them when I use them for some of my clients’ homes. But they really will make a nice statement in a couple of projects I’m working on. And it is all for a good cause.”

  “I talked to Dad for a while,” Emma said carefully. She knew this conversation would be limited because of Tristan’s ears. But perhaps that would be good—no one could say too much. “He admitted that he misses you.”

  “Really?”

  “I think he wants to talk.”

  “Really?” she said again.

  “Grandma, why are you staying at Nona’s house?” Tristan inquired.

  “Oh…I thought it would be fun for a while,” Saundra said lightly. “To be with Nona and your Aunt Emma…and you tonight. Don’t you think that’s fun?”

  “Yeah!” he said with enthusiasm.

  Not for the first time since coming home, Emma felt like she was witnessing the slow but certain unraveling of the Burcelli family. A family that had once been admired greatly by the people in this town, and perhaps those who were unaware still did. Not that Emma cared particularly. But for her parents’ sake, and even for poor Tristan, who was humming to himself in the backseat, she did wish her parents would try to work this thing out.

  Chapter 9

  On Saturday morning, Anne called at ten and asked Emma if she could get Tristan over to the bookstore by eleven. “I totally forgot it’s his Big Brother day,” she said sleepily.

  “No problem,” Emma told her. “He’ll be there.”

  Though she knew he could probably walk to town by himself, especially since it was such a nice sunny day, she still insisted on going with him. After all, she knew this would be her chance to see Lane again. And even if it was only for a few seconds, she was eager to see him. She knew it was juvenile, and she would be embarrassed if anyone suspected her true reasons for walking Tristan the few blocks to town, but s
he did it just the same.

  Lane was just ordering a coffee when they went inside. “Can I get you guys something?” he offered. Tristan said he’d like a cocoa and Emma let him order her latte. But when he handed her coffee to her, she felt uncomfortable. “Thanks,” she told him. “But I should go so that you guys get on with your day. I know this is Tristan’s special time with you, Lane.”

  “Yeah, but we’re just going to sit here and drink our drinks,” he said easily.

  “Yeah, Aunt Emma,” Tristan told her. “You can stay and drink your coffee.”

  Still feeling like an intruder, she sat down.

  “So what’d you think of the magic show?” Lane asked Tristan.

  “It was great. I learned how to do a card trick.”

  “Cool,” Lane told him. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

  “I wish I had a deck of cards.” Tristan frowned.

  “They probably sell cards here.” Lane pulled out his billfold and handed Tristan a ten. “Go ahead and get some. Then you can show us.”

  “Thanks!” Tristan leaped to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “That was nice of you,” Emma told Lane.

  “Or selfish.” Lane said, winking mysteriously.

  “What?”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to have you to myself for a few minutes, Emma. Do you mind?”

  “No, no…not at all.” She gave him puzzled look. “Is, uh, something wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong. But I had hoped to talk to you more last night and the next thing I knew you were gone. I looked all over and finally asked your dad and he said he’d seen you guys leaving.”

  She felt her heart fluttering again. Why was he so interested in her whereabouts? “Well, the magic show ended, it was getting late, and my mom wanted to go home.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I understand. But I never had a chance to tell you how beautiful you looked last night.” He smiled warmly. “Our conversation was cut short.”

  “I know. But Anne needed you…and, after all, it was your big night.” She felt nervous but slightly delirious. Had he really missed her? But now she didn’t know what to say—especially with him gazing at her like that. It was all so unexpected. “So how did it go?” she asked suddenly. “I mean the fundraiser part.”

  “I haven’t heard any numbers, but a fair amount of art was purchased. I know that much. And we still have today and tomorrow to make some sales.”

  “There was some really nice art there,” she said. “I even bought a piece.”

  “Good for you.”

  She spotted Tristan hurrying their way with a pack of cards in hand. He opened the cards and explained how the trick was supposed to work. Of course, it took several attempts and some editing help from her and Lane, but eventually Tristan seemed to have it down. “Now I can show my friends at school,” he proclaimed happily.

  Emma looked at her empty coffee cup then smiled at Lane. “Thanks for the coffee,” she told him. “But now I’m going to let you guys get on with your day.” She stood. “Have fun!” Then, feeling a broad mixture of emotions, she left. As she walked through town, she felt excited, then worried, then thrilled, and then anxious. But by the time Nona’s house came into sight, she felt just plain confused. What was Lane trying to do? He was obviously involved with Anne…and yet he clearly seemed to be flirting with her. What was up with that?

  Just as she got near the house, she noticed her dad’s car pulling up in front. She looked his direction, giving him a friendly wave, but she could tell by the perplexed look on his face that he didn’t even see her. Finally, she went over to the driver’s side window to get his attention.

  He let the window down with an uneasy expression. “Hey, Emma.”

  “What’cha up to, Dad? Coming to see Mom?”

  “I actually came to see my mom,” he confessed. “I usually stop by on Saturday morning. But with your mom’s car here…well, I’m not sure what to do. For some reason I thought she’d be gone. She sometimes works on Saturday.”

  “Maybe she walked to town,” Emma suggested. “It’s such a nice day.”

  “Maybe…” He frowned up at the house. “I guess I could call Nona’s number. But I hate to disturb her. The phone’s in the kitchen, you know, and she could be anywhere.”

  “Want me to go in ahead of you?” Emma offered. “Make sure the coast is clear?”

  He brightened. “Would you, honey?”

  “Sure.”

  Emma went inside to see that Nona was sitting in her chair doing a crossword puzzle. Nona always told everyone that crossword puzzles had helped her English nearly as much as soap operas used to—back before they all turned sleazy.

  “Hey, Nona,” Emma said. “Is Mom around?”

  “I think she’s upstairs.”

  “Okay.” Emma glanced to the front door. “Dad wanted to come in and see you, but—”

  “Your father’s out there?”

  “Yes. Want me to tell him to come in?”

  “Certainly! Why would he not?”

  Emma grimaced. “Because of Mom,” she said quietly.

  “Mama mia!” Nona shook her head. “Such nonsense.”

  Emma laughed. “I know. I’ll tell Dad to come in and then I’ll go give Mom a warning.”

  “Grazie, cara mia.” Nona set her book and pencil aside. “I’ll go put on the teakettle.”

  Emma went out to wave at her dad, motioning for him to come inside then she hurried upstairs to let her mom know.

  “He’s here? Now?” Saundra frowned as she pulled a short boot onto her foot. “To see me?”

  Emma shrugged. “I think he wants to visit Nona. But maybe it’s a multipurpose visit. Who knows?”

  “Hmph.” Saundra reached for the other boot. “Well, I won’t be holding my breath.”

  “Are you going to work today?”

  Saundra shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. I have a lunch date at one. Hardly seems worth it to go in for just an hour.”

  “Do you have a minute to talk?” Emma asked, unsure if this was even a good idea, although she wanted to talk to someone.

  “Sure, honey. Is something wrong?”

  Emma sat down on the chair by the window. “Maybe.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not really sure how to begin,” Emma said carefully. “It has to do with Lane Forester.”

  Saundra’s finely plucked brows lifted. “Uh-oh…”

  “What do you mean, uh-oh?”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, you are interested in your sister’s boyfriend.”

  “Is he her boyfriend?” Emma asked.

  “You know what I’ve told you. They’re not officially a couple. But you’ve seen them together, Emma. There’s definitely something going on there. Don’t you think?”

  Emma shrugged. “I’m not sure what to think.” And now she told her mother about some of her encounters with Lane. “I’m not saying that he’s coming on to me, Mom, but he is being awfully friendly.”

  “That’s because you’re Anne’s sister, Emma. Lane is very friendly to everyone in Anne’s family. He has been for some time now.” Saundra reached over and patted Emma’s hand. “I can understand how you might misinterpret his friendliness as flirting, but I suspect that it’s completely innocent. He’s just that kind of guy.” She smiled dreamily. “Charming and charismatic and warm.” She laughed. “Poppi used to tease Lane, saying that he was certain that he was really Italian.”

  Emma pressed her lips together. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “That’s probably it, Mom.”

  “Of course, it is. Lane is looking forward to being part of this family—I just know it!” Saundra clasped her hands together with sparkling eyes. “And I would love to start planning a big beautiful wedding for Anne right now. Not like that poor little excuse of a ceremony she had with Gerard. Good grief, that was a sad little affair. But can you imagine how beautiful I could make everything for them? Maybe a June wedding if we got right on it. We could have
the reception at our house. That would give us time to get the yard completely redone. Oh, it would be delightful.”

  Emma tried to hide her disappointment, but knew her mother was probably right. Besides, she saw an opportunity here. “But if you’re going to have the reception at your house, wouldn’t it be wise to patch things up with Dad?”

  Saundra looked as if her bubble had just been popped. “Well, uh, yes…I suppose so. But there’s plenty of time to do that.”

  “I don’t know…June’s not that far off, Mom.” Emma counted on her fingers. “That’s only four or five months away.”

  Saundra frowned. “Well, maybe a fall wedding would be better.”

  “Maybe…” Emma stood. “But it might be nice if the happy couple got engaged first…don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely. In fact, I think I will see if I can drop Lane some hints. Wouldn’t it be romantic if they got engaged on Valentine’s Day?”

  “That would be romantic,” Emma said stiffly.

  “And we could throw them an engagement party.” Saundra stood too, gazing out the window with a wistful expression. “Although I’d have to patch things up with your father…if I wanted to have the party at our house. And that would really be the best place for it, don’t you think?”

  “Uh-huh.” Emma moved to the door. “You better start thinking of what you need to do to mend your fences with Dad, Mom.”

  Saundra looked hopefully at Emma. “What do you think I should do?”

  Emma shrugged. “I’m not exactly an expert in the romance, love, and marriage arena.”

  “I know, but you’re sensible, Emma. What should I do?” Saundra was wringing her hands now.

  “Maybe you should learn to cook spaghetti and meatballs,” Emma said lightly.