Once Upon a Winter's Heart by Melody Carlson

now.”
    â€œOh…” 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?”
    â€œCertainly.” Emma gave her sister an uneasy smile.
    â€œCatch 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—
    â€œEmma!” 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.”
    â€œMom 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.
    â€œDad?” 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.”
    â€œAnd have you been reflecting?”
    He nodded. “Some.”
    â€œAnd you’re not getting lonely?”
    He nodded again. “Some.”
    â€œI’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.”
    â€œBut maybe you need to invite her to come back. Make her feel wanted and loved and appreciated.”
    â€œHow 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.”
    â€œI’m perfectly willing.”
    â€œSo 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.”
    â€œAnd that’s okay with you?”
    Rob