Once Upon a Winter's Heart

by Melody Carlson

  “Why don’t I give you a ride over there?” he suggested. “I have a couple of pieces I need to pick up myself.”

  “Okay.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “That’ll give me time to get back here and get Nona’s lunch started.”

  It wasn’t until he was parking the car in front of the Hummingbird that she realized this could be a fresh invitation to trouble. Surely, Anne would be working. She wouldn’t like seeing them coming in together. But then Anne knew they were having a business meeting this morning…so really, why should she care?

  “Well, look who’s here,” Anne said as Emma walked in. “And you brought Lane with you.”

  “Or Lane brought me,” Emma said. “I want to pick up my painting.”

  “Oh, yes.” Anne smiled at Lane. “And you have some pieces too, don’t you? Let me tell Wendy to go find them for you. We’re anxious to get them out of here and get this place back to normal. People have been picking them up all morning.”

  Anne disappeared and Lane turned to Emma. “I know I said it before, but I still marvel that you and Anne are sisters. You’re so different.”

  “Dad says that Mom and Anne got the French, English, and German genes. He and I are products of Nona and Poppi.”

  He nodded, smiling as Anne and her assistant returned with the paintings. “Did you really buy this one?” Anne asked Emma. “Seriously? On purpose? Or did someone twist your arm?”

  Emma reached for the seascape. “I bought it because I really like it.”

  “Oh, Emma, you’re such a sentimentalist. Well, at least you donated your money to a good cause.” Anne chuckled as she reached for the next painting.

  Emma gazed at the seascape in her hands. She knew Anne was putting her down, and her sister’s words stung, but she would not deny she liked this piece—even more in the daylight. “I’ve always believed that art, like beauty, was in the eyes of the beholder,” she said quietly.

  “Yes, yes, to each his own.” Anne laughed as she handed Lane an attractive still-life painting. “Now, this guy, on the other hand, has exhibited some very fine taste in his selection of art.” Anne winked at Lane as if they were sharing a secret joke. But the expression on Lane’s face was unreadable.

  “That is a nice painting,” Emma agreed. “But I still like mine better.”

  Anne frowned down at the seascape, pointing to the signature. “I don’t even know who this Randolph Lawrence is, since this was dropped off when I was out, but I’m guessing it’s some old dude who decided to give up his paint-by-number sets.” She giggled.

  Lane cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact, I painted this.”

  Emma stared at Lane. “You’re kidding.”

  “No.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Although after hearing your sister’s opinion of my talent, I might be wise to keep my mouth shut on the matter.”

  “Oh, Lane!” Anne’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She pointed at the signature. “But that’s not your name.” She cocked her head to one side. “You’re punking me, aren’t you?”

  “Not at all,” he said solemnly. “Randolph is my middle name. Lawrence was my father’s name. I suppose I was trying to slide this painting under the radar.” He gave Emma an apologetic smile. “And if you’d like your money back, I’m perfectly glad—”

  “No way!” Emma clutched the painting even tighter. “I love it and I am not giving it up.”

  “Oh, Lane.” Anne put her hand on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes with a horrified expression. “I’m so sorry…and now that I look at the painting, it’s really not—”

  “No worries, Anne. I don’t plan on giving up my day job anytime soon.” He turned to Emma. “Don’t you need to get back to fix Nona her lunch?”

  “Yes!” Emma nodded eagerly.

  Anne followed them to the door. “Emma,” she said urgently, “before you go, I need to ask a favor. Can you watch Tristan for me on Thursday night? There’s a Chamber meeting.” She pointed to Lane. “You’re going too, aren’t you?”

  “It’s on my calendar,” he told her.

  “Anyway, if you could watch Tristan—”

  “Sure.” Emma smiled at her. “I’d love to. Have him stop by the bookstore after school and I’ll take him home with me.”

  “And could you drop him at the condo…so he can go to bed?” Anne glanced at Lane. “You know how late those Chamber meetings can go sometimes.”

  “No problem,” Emma said as she and Lane stepped out the door.

  Anne was still walking with them, reminding Emma of a little terrier chasing after the mailman. “I am sorry, Lane,” she continued. “I hope you’ll forgive me. You know how I sometimes speak without thinking.” She giggled. “I really need to work on that.”

  “It’s okay, Anne.” He opened the back of his SUV and put the paintings in. “I’ve never taken my art seriously.” He laughed as he closed it. “And now I see why.”

  Of course, this made Emma feel bad, but she tried not to show it as she opened the passenger side.

  “Wait, Emma,” Anne called out, hurrying over to her. “I’ve been thinking you and I have not really had a chance to catch up since you’ve been home. I thought maybe we could do lunch tomorrow. Are you free?”

  “Sure.” Emma nodded.

  “I’ll fix us something special at my condo,” Anne warmly told her. “Is noon okay for you?”

  Emma agreed as she and Lane got into the car then he drove away in silence. “Did that bother you?” she asked him. “I mean, what Anne said?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll admit it was a bit awkward and I was tempted to keep my mouth shut about the whole thing.” He glanced at her. “But that seemed unfair.”

  “I stand by my opinion,” she stated. “I like the painting. And I’m not saying I know more about art than Anne, but I did take a little art in college and I enjoyed attending gallery exhibits in Seattle. I’m not exactly an ignoramus when it comes to art.”

  He laughed. “No, I doubt you are.”

  On Tuesday, Emma felt uneasy as she knocked on her sister’s condo door. Besides the fact that Anne had never been a good cook and usually preferred to eat out, something about this lunch date felt suspicious.

  “Welcome,” Anne said brightly as she opened the door. “I picked us up some salads at the deli.” She nodded to some cartons on the breakfast bar. “Hopefully you’ll like the selection. I realized after I got there I should’ve given you a call.”

  “No, that’s okay.” Emma removed her jacket, laying it on a bench by the door. Anne chattered as they filled their plates then took them over to the dining table.

  “Oh, these roses take up so much room.” Anne slid them to the other end of the table. “But they are beautiful.”

  Emma nodded. She didn’t really like roses that much, but they were very elegant-looking. “They look perfect in here,” she said. “Very sophisticated.”

  “Do you know that Valentine’s Day is just a week away?” Anne forked into a salad.

  “Yes, Nona and I were just talking about that this morning.”

  “How is Nona?”

  “She’s okay. I mean, she gets blue occasionally, and I’ve caught her crying a few times. But she’s keeping busy. And today her widow ladies are coming over for lunch—Lucille and Esther. That’ll be nice for her.”

  “That’s good. I keep meaning to stop by and visit…but it’s been so busy.”

  Now Emma told Anne about how their dad was taking secret cooking lessons from Nona. “Don’t tell Mom. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

  “That’s precious. Nona teaching Dad to cook.” Anne laughed. “Too bad Mom doesn’t want to learn too.”

  They chatted amiably like that for a while and Emma decided that her earlier suspicions were completely unfounded. Anne had simply wanted a sisterly luncheon for them both to catch up. And it was kind of nice not being in a restaurant too. Anne went to get seconds on the turkey and apple salad, pausing by the rose
s to take a long sniff. “I know these aren’t going to last much longer, but they’re so pretty. I wonder if I should dry them, you know, for a keepsake. Do you think they’d dry nicely?”

  “Maybe. You might try hanging them upside down, but don’t let them get too wilted before you do.”

  “Good idea.” Anne sat back down, looking directly at Emma. “Speaking of the lovely roses…I wanted to talk to you about Lane.”

  “Lane…?” Emma poked her fork into her pasta salad.

  “Yes. I’d like to have a little heart-to-heart talk.”

  “Uh…okay…”

  “I know that Lane’s been quite friendly to you, Emma. And I think that’s very sweet on his part. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea from him. You know what I mean?”

  “Not exactly.” Emma took a bite and chewed slowly.

  “I mean I understand how Lane is a very attractive bachelor in our small town, Emma. It’s only natural that he’s caught your eye.” She laughed. “He catches a lot of eyes. And he’s such a friendly guy…to everyone…well, it’s possible that you’ve misunderstood his intentions. You know?” Anne peered curiously at her.

  “You mean because we did some marketing work together?” Emma said innocently. “Because, don’t worry, that was purely business.”

  “Yes…I get that.” Anne narrowed her eyes slightly. “I guess I should just get to the point, Emma. Lane has been an important part of my life for some time now. And for Tristan too. Tristan absolutely adores Lane.”

  “I know. I saw them together on Saturday. It was obvious that they’re close.”

  “And so you see, there is something in the works here…something I’d like my sister to respect.” Anne pushed her plate away with a serious expression. “I didn’t want to say anything, but Mom mentioned that she had to tell you this same thing, Emma. She was worried that you had misunderstood Lane’s friendship with you. She said that she explained that he’s on good terms with the whole family.” Anne sighed happily and gazed at the roses. “And we all think that’s because he is hoping to be part of this family. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner…well, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Lane decided to take our relationship to the next level, if you know what I mean.”

  Emma’s appetite vanished as she nodded. “Yes, I think I know exactly what you mean, Anne.”

  “I didn’t want to be quite this blunt with you,” Anne stood, picking up her plate and carrying it into the nearby kitchen. “But after talking to Mom, well, it just seemed the direct route was the best route. You know?”

  Emma stood too, carrying her own plate to the sink. “Thank you for lunch, Anne. And thank you for being so honest with me.”

  “So you will respect my boundaries?” Anne locked eyes with her. “And Tristan’s?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Anne smiled. “See, that’s just what I told Mom. She was all worked up over nothing.”

  Emma took in a deep breath. “I really should go, Anne. I promised to work at the bookstore. It’s been busy there with Poppi gone.”

  “Yes, yes. I need to get back to the gallery too.” Anne reached out for a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding, sis. I knew you would.”

  “Uh-huh.” Emma couldn’t think of an honest response that she was comfortable saying. “See ya ’round.”

  “And don’t forget Tristan on Thursday,” Anne called out as Emma pulled on her jacket. “Those Chamber meetings can run late…maybe even eleven. Is that okay?”

  “It’s fine.” Emma reached for the door. “See ya.” As Emma left, she felt a plethora of emotions—everything from outrage to betrayal…but mostly she felt hurt. As if her mom and sister had ganged up against her, and it cut to the core.

  Chapter 11

  For the next day and a half, Emma tucked the conversation with her sister into the recesses of her mind. With so much else going on, it wasn’t difficult to be distracted. Between helping Nona and working at the bookstore, her days were fairly full.

  “Emma,” Virginia said urgently on Wednesday afternoon. “Can you cover for me tonight? Tom’s mother just went into the hospital with a heart attack, I’d really like to go see her, but I’m scheduled here until eight.”

  “Why is the store open tonight?” Emma asked.

  “It’s a book club night,” Virginia explained. “Tonight is men’s night.”

  “A men’s book club?” Emma was surprised.

  “Poppi got it going a few years ago.” Virginia was checking her iPhone. “It was slow starting, but it’s caught on. About a dozen men are involved.”

  “That’s wonderful, Virginia. And I’m happy to stick around. Anything I need to know?”

  “Not really. The men handle the book club themselves. But with the store lights on, sometimes customers will pop in. And someone might want coffee. But you know how to work the machines now. And if you wouldn’t mind cleaning them out before you go home. That’s about it.”

  Emma assured Virginia she could handle it, then called her mom to be sure that she’d be home with Nona. “Do I need to go home early?” Saundra asked. “Because I’m with a client right now and it could go until sevenish.”

  “That’s fine,” Emma told her. “Nona already has something for dinner.” She restrained herself from saying that was perfect since her dad was having a cooking lesson tonight. So now she called her dad’s cell phone and told him that he could linger longer than usual if he wanted tonight. “Mom won’t be there until around seven.”

  “Great. Then Nona and I can actually eat my cooking lesson…well, if it’s edible.” He sniffed loudly. “It’s smelling pretty good though.”

  “You’re making me hungry,” she told him.

  “I’ll leave you some leftovers,” he promised.

  “Why aren’t you part of the men’s book club?” she asked.

  “You know…I kept thinking I’d get around to it. I promised Poppi I would. I guess I should look into it.”

  “Yes,” she urged him. “You should.” Then she thanked him for saving some leftovers and hung up. The bookstore got quiet after Cindy and Virginia were gone. Emma figured everyone was probably home fixing dinner. But the lull in business gave her a chance to tidy things up, and she even put on the Dean Martin CD, humming along as she spruced up the lounge area, where the book club was supposed to be held. A couple of lone men were wandering the store, and she suspected they were part of the group. Possibly they were concerned that Poppi would be missing tonight. Hopefully they wouldn’t get discouraged and go home.

  Although that seemed unlikely. Especially since the bookstore was so cozy and homey at night. What a lovely way to spend an evening. Perhaps she’d join a book club herself. Remembering that Valentine’s Day was around the corner, she decided to treat the men readers to a nice box of chocolates from her Valentine’s display. Opening the box, she even put some lace paper doilies beneath it and set it in the center of the coffee table. Perfect.

  She was just dropping the plastic wrapper into the trash can when she heard the bell on the front door tinkling. Looking up, she was surprised to see Lane coming in with a bag in his hand. “Emma!” he exclaimed happily. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He came over and set the bag down. “You joining the men’s book club?”

  She laughed. “No. But I was thinking I might join the women’s club. Or perhaps even start up a mixed group club, if no one’s done that yet.”

  He grinned as he unzipped his parka. “That sounds like fun. I know I’d come.”

  “So are you part of the men’s book club?”

  He nodded. “Yep. And with Poppi gone, I thought I’d even offer to lead it tonight. Unless someone else steps up.”

  “So Poppi led it?” she asked sadly.

  He hung his coat over the back of a chair. “Yeah…and he’s pretty much irreplaceable. But hopefully we can slog through without him.” He pointed to the chocolates. “You do that?”

  “Yeah.
You know, since it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Seemed kind of appropriate.”

  He set a book on the table and she peered down to see. “Phantom of the Opera?” she asked in surprise. “Really? Is that your book tonight?”

  “Poppi insisted on a romance book for Valentine’s Day,” Lane said.

  “Kind of a strange romance, don’t you think?”

  “I wasn’t too sure about it at first. And the guys did some whining and complaining last month, but Poppi promised that there would be some action and intrigue. And he was right. It was a good book. I enjoyed it.” Lane was unloading some things from his grocery bag: a prepared cheese plate and box of crackers, as well as a veggie plate and a plate of heart-shaped cookies with red and pink sprinkles.

  “Very festive,” she told him. “Does the men’s group always get such fine treatment, or is this just for Valentine’s Day?”

  “The guys come here expecting some goodies. Poppi had them trained.” He folded the grocery bag, tucking it under his arm as she removed lids and things from the food. “But Poppi usually provided it, and it was always much better than this since he and Nona did the cooking.” Lane looked uncertain. “You think this will be okay?”

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  “Well, not quite perfect. We still need to open a bottle of red wine and get the glasses, napkins, and plates.”

  “Can I help?”

  He gave her a grateful smile. “I was hoping you would.”

  As they walked to the back room together, she felt her heart doing its little flip-flop routine again. Why did he do that to her? Now she was assaulted by a rush of guilt as she remembered Anne’s heart-to-heart talk the other day. But it’s not like Emma was initiating anything. Was she? Still, just recalling her sister’s words was painful. And confusing.

  “I can’t believe I’m feeling nervous about tonight,” Lane said as they carried the things back to the lounge area.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He set a couple of opened bottles on the table. “Your grandfather is a hard act to follow.”