Once Upon a Winter's Heart (7 page)

By four thirty Emma
felt it was time to get back to check on Nona. “Do you think your mom will mind if I take you home with me? I mean to Nona's?”

“She won't care.”

“But we should let her know, right?”

Tristan produced a cell phone from his backpack.

“You have your own cell phone?” She blinked. “Impressive.”

He grinned. “Yeah. But it's only to call Mom. Or emergencies.”

Soon it was settled that he could go with Emma and they were on their way. As she drove, he confessed to her that he missed his dad.

“When will you get to see him again?” she asked.

“Not until spring break. Mom said I get to fly on a plane to go see him.” Tristan brightened. “Dad is gonna take me to Disney World.”

“Wow. That sounds like fun.”

“Uh-huh. I guess so.”

“You
guess
so?” She glanced at him as she pulled into the driveway.

“I just wish Mom would come too.”

“Oh…”

“Dad even said he'd buy her a plane ticket if she would come.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But she said no. She has to work.”

“Well…anyway…” She turned off her car. “You're going to Disney World, Tristan. That is so cool. I've never been there. You'll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”

“Will you still be here then?” he asked as they got out. “Or are you going back to Seattle?”

“I think I'll be here. I don't really have any plans to return to Seattle.”

He nodded as he hoisted up his backpack. “That's good.”

Nona was pleased to see Tristan and even played checkers with him while Emma started dinner. Then Tristan helped by setting the table, and by the time everything was ready, Saundra was getting home.

“Well, we're just one big happy family, aren't we?” she said as she hugged Tristan.

“Four generations all at one table,” Nona proclaimed. “That is good luck.”

“Good luck?” Tristan asked. “What will happen?”

“We will enjoy each other's company,” Nona told him.

And they did. After dinner, Tristan worked on his homework as Emma washed dishes. But finally it was close to eight and Emma was concerned about his bedtime. “Why don't you call your mom and see what she wants you to do?” Emma told him as she turned the lights off in the kitchen. Nona had gone to bed and Saundra was watching some home renovation show on the small TV in the living room. “Maybe you can just spend the night here.”

“Really?” he asked with enthusiasm. “On a school night?”

“Well, if she's not home.”

Tristan called on his phone and talked for a bit then handed it over to Emma. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Hey, Emma,” Anne said, “that's sweet you offered to let him spend the night, but I should be done here within the hour. Any chance you can drop him home and I'll be along as soon as I'm finished? That way Trist can get to bed.”

“Sure I can do that. But I don't have a key.”

“Tristan has a key.”

“Okay. I'll see you there then.” Emma hung up and explained to her mom and soon they were on their way. Emma hadn't been to Anne's condo in a couple of years, but she knew where it was. And Tristan, pretending like she didn't, directed her all the way there. Then, acting like the man of the house, he unlocked the door and let her inside.

“You should probably start getting ready for bed,” she told him. “I promised your mom you would.”

“Okay.” He tossed his backpack and things on the floor and headed off to his room.

Emma looked around the condo. Her mom hadn't been kidding. Anne had completely redone the place. And it looked like she'd spared no expense either. The eighties-style kitchen cabinets had all been replaced with sleek dark wood. The countertops were granite and the appliances were stainless. Very uptown. But it seemed odd since Emma remembered how the last time she was here, both Anne and Gerard had been talking about selling their condo and getting a real house so that Tristan would have a yard. Apparently they'd changed their minds about that. Or maybe they thought the remodel would help to sell the unit. Anyway, it wasn't Emma's business.

She continued checking out the upgrades, admiring the sleek modern furnishings, the art on the wall, and a gorgeous bouquet of red roses on the dining room table. She did a quick count on the blooms to discover it was not just one dozen, but two. Someone was a big spender. Was it Lane? And if so, what did it mean? That he was just as serious about Anne as she appeared to be about him?

Just then Tristan came bounding in, wearing his pajamas and announcing he'd brushed his teeth and asking if he could play video games.

“I don't think so,” she told him in what she hoped was a firm tone. “According to your mom, it's already well past your bedtime.” She followed him into his room, noticing the stack of books by his bed. They'd probably been given to him by Poppi. “And you're probably too old for someone to read to you before bed.” She reached for the light by his bed.

“No, I'm not,” he told her. “Poppi used to read to me when I spent the night over there. I liked it.”

“Oh…?” Emma picked up two books from the top of the pile. “
Tom Sawyer
or
The Hobbit
?”

“
The Hobbit
,” he said eagerly. “I haven't even started that one yet.”

And so she opened
The Hobbit
and started to read. She was just finishing the first chapter when she heard Anne coming into the house. “Goodnight, Tristan,” she said quietly, realizing that he was already half asleep. “Sweet dreams.” She clicked off the light and tiptoed from the room.

“Oh, there you are,” Anne said as she removed an elegant-looking long coat and a pale blue silky scarf. She kicked off her heels and stretched her arms up. “I'm exhausted.”

“Long day, eh?” Emma couldn't believe how fresh and perfect Anne looked, especially after working in the gallery all day and half of the night. How did she do it?

“Oh, yeah.” Anne went to fridge and removed a bottle of water, opening it and taking a long sip. “You want one?”

“No thanks.” Emma moved toward the door. “I should be going.”

“So soon?” Anne turned and smiled. “We've hardly spent any time together, Em. Can't you stay awhile?”

Emma shrugged. “Sure. If you're not too tired.”

“Come and sit.” Anne went into the living room area, settling down onto the white sectional. “You sure you don't want something to drink? Help yourself, if you do.”

“No, I'm fine.” Emma walked past the dining room table then paused. “Anne, these roses are gorgeous.”

Anne took a long sip of water then sighed. “They are pretty, aren't they?”

Emma bent down to sniff, but they had no smell. “A little early for Valentine's Day…who's the admirer?”

Anne gave Emma a sly look now. “Who do you think it is?”

Emma felt her cheeks growing warm. Of course, it had to be Lane. “I don't know, Anne. A pretty girl like you probably has lots of admirers.”

Anne laughed. “But only a few that I really care about.”

“A few?”

She grinned. “Okay, make that one.”

“Lane Forester?”

Anne's face broke into a big smile. “Isn't he wonderful?”

Emma came into the living room area, just standing. “He's a very nice man, Anne.”

“So you approve?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I?”

Anne shrugged and took another long swig. “I don't know. I just want everyone in the family to like him.”

“We all liked Gerard,” Emma said quietly.

Now Anne's smile vanished.

“I'm sorry…” Emma put her hand on the back of a chair. “I guess I just don't get it. Gerard seemed like a good guy and—”

“Please, Emma.” Anne stood now. “I really don't want to talk about it.”

“Sorry.”

“That era of my life is over. End of story.” Anne made a stiff smile. “I understand you don't get it. But it's not for you to get. You know? So let's just let it go.” She stretched and suppressed a yawn. “And now that I think of it, I really am more tired than I realized. And tomorrow is another big day. You know the Big Brothers Big Sisters benefit is tomorrow night. That's why I was so busy today.”

“That's right. I promised Lane I'd come to it.”

Anne tipped her head to one side as if she was thinking. “Well, sure, you can come if you want, Em. But I'll forewarn you, it'll be pretty sedate. Just a bunch of older people with deep pockets and some wall space to fill, if you know what I mean. I doubt you'll even know anyone there. And I'm sure you don't want to buy any of the pieces…I mean since you don't even have a home to put them in.” She smiled. “I'd completely forgive you if you decide not to come.” She placed a manicured finger next to her cheek. “In fact, if you're interested, maybe I could entice you to spend the evening with Tristan instead.”

“Oh…he's not going to the show?”

Anne laughed. “You think I can manage a ten-year-old and an art show at the same time? I think not.”

Emma considered this. “Okay, sure, I'd be happy to spend the evening with Tristan. Do you want him to spend the night at Nona's?”

“That would be divine, Emma.” Anne came over and hugged her. “Thank you, dear sister.”

“No problem.” Emma forced a smile.

“Do you mind if he goes to the bookstore again after school?”

“That's fine.”

“I sure miss having Poppi there,” Anne said sadly. “It was so good knowing that Tristan could spend time with him. He'd do his homework there and read and all kinds of stuff. I know poor Trist is going to miss it too.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah…I know.”

“So I guess I'll see you…Saturday then?” Anne was removing her pearl earrings. “Maybe not until past noon if you don't mind. I know I'll be exhausted after Friday night.”

“Noon is fine. Want me to bring him by here?”

“Oh, no, that's okay. I can pick him up.”

Emma just nodded then told her sister goodnight and left. As she walked through the dark parking lot, relieved there was no freezing rain tonight, she couldn't help but feel slightly dismissed…and dismayed…and disturbed. But maybe it's what she deserved. This is what she got for allowing herself to be interested in her sister's beau. She was simply getting her just deserts. The sooner she forgot about the evening with Lane at the bookstore, the better off they all would be.

On Friday, Emma stayed
with Nona for most of the day. Helping to catch up with some of the more arduous housekeeping chores, things that had been neglected due to Nona's health and age, Emma had decided to attack one room at a time. Today she had chosen to work on the kitchen by deep cleaning the stove area and beneath the fridge and scrubbing and sealing the grout around the tiles on the counter. But by three o'clock, she was on her way to meet Tristan at the bookstore.

Like yesterday, she got him a cocoa and they sat together at the table by the window, discussing his day at school. He seemed to soak up the attention she was giving him, and she suspected it had as much to do with his absent father as his overly busy mother. Also, like her, he was missing Poppi. Really, they were good company for each other.

They were just finishing up their cocoas when Lane came into the bookstore. Spotting the two of them, he waved enthusiastically then came over, greeting them both warmly. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Emma told him.

“I get to spend the night with Aunt Emma and Nona tonight,” Tristan told him. “We're going to watch movies and eat pizza and stay up late.”

“Really?” Lane's brow creased. “But what about the fundraiser? You're not coming to that? We're going to have great food and music and a magician.”

“A magician?” Tristan looked impressed. “For real?”

“I thought the kids might like it.” Lane chuckled. “And me too.”

“Kids will be at the art show?” Emma asked.

“Yeah, I expect some of the Big Brothers Big Sisters kids to show up,” Lane said. “That's why I thought a magician would be fun. And he's really good. Marco the Magnificent. I've seen him before and his hands are way quicker than the eye.”

“I want to see the magician,” Tristan said eagerly. “I got a magic kit for Christmas and I've been practicing some magic tricks.”

“Then come,” Lane insisted.

“Can we go, Aunt Emma?”

She tried to remember her sister's reasoning for not wanting him there. Wasn't it because she'd have her hands full with the show? “Sure, I don't see why not.”

Tristan grinned.

She looked down at his T-shirt, where he was still wearing what appeared to be part of his lunch. “But I suspect this is a dress-up affair.” She glanced at Lane. “Right?”

“It's supposed to be a little uptown, but it probably doesn't really matter if—”

“I have my suit—the one I wore to Poppi's funeral,” Tristan told her. “It's at home, but we can get it, can't we? I have my key. Can we go,
please
?”

“I guess we can.…” Emma wondered if she should check with Anne.

“Your suit will be perfect,” Lane told Tristan.

“Well, with this change of plans, we should get going,” Emma told Tristan. “We have a lot to do before then.”

“Will we still get to watch movies and eat pizza and stay up late?” he asked, “I mean after the fundraiser?”

She laughed. “This guy wants his cake and to eat it too.”

Tristan looked hopeful. “We're having cake?”

Lane chuckled. “See you two later then.”

Emma and Tristan told Lane goodbye then went on their way. Emma couldn't help but feel a bit sneaky as she drove Tristan over to the condo, letting themselves in and helping him pick up his things. But she remembered how Anne had specifically told her this event was boring and better suited for old people—almost as if she didn't want Emma there. Well, what was up with that?

Back at Nona's, Emma kept her promise to Tristan by ordering pizza for dinner for everyone. Not only did this please her nephew but it also gave her a little time to think about what she could wear for the evening. While Tristan visited with Nona, Emma went through the closet where she'd recently hung up her clothes, looking for something “uptown.” Her sapphire blue velvet cocktail dress seemed a little over the top for this small town, but she thought she'd be safe anywhere in her little black dress. Elegant but conservative, and with a quick steaming it looked as good as ever. With this she would wear the silver heart-shaped locket Poppi had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Juvenile perhaps, but it always made her feel good to wear it. Combine those with silver hoop earrings and her good black heels and she should be presentable enough for an art show. Plus she would pin her hair up in a loose curly bun. Not nearly as sleek as Anne would be, but it might add a touch of sophistication.

As they were eating pizza, Saundra announced that she wanted to go to the fundraiser as well, suggesting the three of them go together. “What about you, Nona?” Emma asked. “Do you feel like coming?”

“No, no, I do not wish to go.
Grazie.
”

“But will you be all right here by yourself?”

“Yes, yes. I told you already. I am not sick,
dolce
. I do not need to be watched. I will go to bed right after
Jeopardy!
and I will be just fine.”

“And we'll be home by eight,” Saundra assured her. “I know I won't want to stay more than an hour.”

So it was settled. Everyone went off to get ready, with Nona insisting on helping Tristan. When Emma emerged from her room, feeling good in her little black dress and just putting on her trench coat, she was met by her frowning mother.

“What?”
Saundra pointed at her. “Is that the only coat you have?”

“What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing if you're waiting for a bus in a rainstorm.”

“Huh?” Emma looked down at the tan trench coat.

“Wait a minute.” Saundra held up a hand. “I have something you can wear.”

“
Mom
,” Emma called, following her. “You are three inches shorter than me and—”

“No, no, it'll work,” Saundra called over her shoulder as she pawed through the little closet. “You'll see.”

Emma stood in the doorway of the sewing room, waiting as Saundra dug and complained about the size of closets in old homes. “Really, someone should come up with an add-on design that would instantly pop a full-size walk-in into an old home like this. They would become an instant millionaire.”

“Are you ready yet?” Tristan yelled from downstairs.

“In a minute,” Emma called back.

“Here it is.” Saundra emerged holding up a cranberry red mohair coat.

“Mom, that's a beautiful coat, but I can't imagine it's going to fit me.”

“Try it on, Emma.”

So Emma hung her trench coat on the doorknob and slipped on the red coat. With its rich satiny lining and soft fuzzy exterior, it felt luxurious and warm and truly wonderful. “It's absolutely yummy,” Emma admitted. “But does it really work on me?” She gave a spin, causing the full hem of the coat to flare out. And, really, the length wasn't bad either, barely below her knees. Maybe it was okay.

“It's too long for me.” Saundra guided Emma over to the freestanding mirror that Nona had kept in the sewing room for as long as Emma could remember. “But, see, Emma, it's perfect on you.”

Emma stared in wonder at the magical red coat. “Oh, Mom, it's really gorgeous. I totally love it. Are you sure you want me to wear it? What if I spill something?”

“It's yours, my dear.”

“Are you certain—”

“I am positive. It's perfect on you. Nothing about it was right for me,” Saundra explained as they went downstairs. “Too long. Too much color. Really it was all wrong for me. Although I'll admit it's a gorgeous garment and I know it was costly.”

“Then why did you get it—if it was all wrong?” Emma asked at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh, I didn't get it. Your father did.”

“Oh…”

“Look at you,” Nona said as she and Tristan came to the foot of the stairs. “Oh, Emma, you look like a queen.
Bellissima!
” Nona clapped her hands and her eyes lit up. “Oh,
dolce
, you are
bellissima
!”

“What about me?” Saundra demanded in a teasing tone.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Nona assured her, “you are
bellissima
too.”

“And me?” Tristan asked. “Am I
bellissima
too?”

Nona laughed. “No, no. You are
bello
.”

“Because you are a boy,” Emma explained.

“We better go, Nona.” Saundra jingled her car keys. “And since we all look so beautiful, I am driving my fine carriage tonight. We must travel in style. Now let's get moving, kiddos.”

Emma tried not to feel nervous as her mother drove them the few blocks to town. She knew she had every right to attend this public fundraiser, but she also knew that Anne would probably not like it—even though that made no sense.

“Now, Tristan,” Emma said as Saundra was parking down the street. “You are kind of like our date tonight,
right, Mom
?”

“That's right.”

“So we want you on your best behavior.”

“I'll be good,” he promised from the backseat.

“And if you're not…” She tried to think of something. “Then we won't be able to watch our movie and stay up late like we wanted to.
Okay?
”

“Okay.”

“Because this is your mother's big night at the gallery,” Saundra said as she turned off the car. “You must be on your best behavior.”

“I know, I know.” He sounded a little exasperated.

“And for Lane's sake too,” Emma pointed out. “Remember this is for Big Brothers Big Sisters. It's to raise funds for the foundation. You should do your part.”

“I will,” he said more firmly.

As they got out of the car, about a block from the gallery, Emma could see it well lit with festive strings of white lights on the awnings. And along the sidewalk, lines of luminarias led up to the front door. Very pretty and festive and fun. The cheerful sound of music greeted them as they went inside and suddenly Emma was glad that she'd come.

“There's the magician,” Tristan whispered to Emma, pointing to a corner where some kids were already gathering around a man in the black tuxedo. “Can I go and watch now?”

“Sure.” She patted his back. “Just mind your manners.”

He nodded, but his eyes were fixed on the magician. Emma paused to watch as the mysterious man gracefully waved a wand over his black silk hat then pulled out a bunch of bright-colored flowers. The children were mesmerized. Meanwhile Saundra was being greeted by a friend, and now Emma, left to her own devices, decided to simply wander through the gallery. It would be interesting to see the local artists' works. And to her surprise some of them seemed to have real talent. She paused to look at a well-done still life, studying it closely.

“Hello, Miss Burcelli.”

Emma turned to see Lane smiling at her. He had on a nicely tailored suit, similar to the one he wore to the funeral, only this one was black. She returned his smile. “Hello, Mr. Forester.”

“Last names seem a bit formal, don't they?” He chuckled. “Especially after our ice escapades the other night. Did you end up with any bruises?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She giggled. “That was the strangest weather. It almost seems surreal now.”

He looked directly into her eyes with an intensity that caused her heart to do a little flip-flop. “Actually it seems rather dreamlike to me. Wine and chocolate and Dean Martin and ice skating. That'll be a hard evening to surpass, don't you think?”

She felt her cheeks warming. What was he really saying? Was he flirting with her? Or was she just delirious? “Well, I must admit I have an earworm I can't seem to eradicate.”

“What?” He looked alarmed. “An earworm?”

She laughed. “It means when a song keeps looping through your ear. An earworm.”

“Oh.” He looked relieved but slightly confused.

“‘That's Amore,'” she explained. “I can't seem to get it out of my head.”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I know exactly what you—”

“Lane.”
Anne swooped up from behind him, slipping her arm into his. “There you—” She stopped mid-sentence, looking slightly stunned to see that it was Emma who was conversing with him.

“Hi, Anne,” Emma said meekly.

“Oh, Em! I didn't expect to see
you
here tonight.” Her brow creased with concern. “Wait, if you're here…
where is Tristan
?”

“I invited them to come,” Lane explained to Anne. “Tristan didn't realize there was a magician tonight and I thought he should—”

“So, Trist is here?” Anne's eyes darted around the increasingly crowded gallery. “But did he get cleaned up after school? I can only imagine—”

“He looks like a perfect gentleman,” Emma assured her. “Besides that he's been lectured on how to mind his manners. He's over there watching the magician right now.”

“Oh…” Anne still looked disconcerted, but her shell pink lips curled into a stiff smile. “
Lane
,” she said in a honey-coated voice, “I was coming to get you. I need you to meet someone really important.” She glanced back at Emma. “You will excuse us, won't you?”

“Certainly.” Emma gave her sister an uneasy smile.

“Catch you later,” Lane called lightly over his shoulder, but he gave her a friendly little wave as Anne swooshed him away. Emma tried not to feel envious of her pretty little sister. After all this was supposed to be Anne's night. Not Emma's. And she looked so chic in her pale pink fitted dress and those dainty matching shoes, with every sleek blonde hair in place. Anne was as pretty as a picture, and she probably knew it. Just the same Emma tried not to compare herself to Anne's delicately perfect appearance. Like Lane had said, they were as different as night and day…and that was okay.

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—