Once Upon a Winter's Heart

by Melody Carlson

  “Be careful out here,” Lane warned as she was locking the door. “There seems to be some ice—” And just like that, he was flat on his back.

  “Lane?” she cried out. “Are you okay?”

  He chuckled. “Well, other than bruising my manly pride.”

  She reached out a hand to pull him up, but as soon as he grasped her hand, her heel slid on the ice and she went down too—right smack on top of him. “Oh, no!” she gasped, trying to extract herself from his arms. “It really is slick out here.” She giggled nervously as she rolled off of him, struggling to get her bearings. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” He laughed. “The rain must’ve frozen.” He sat up and looked around. “It’s a solid sheet of ice.”

  They pushed and pulled and slipped and slid, breaking into uncontrollable laughter, as they tried to help each other stand on their feet.

  “It’s a silver thaw,” Emma said as she held onto the door handle, looking out to a streetlight that was coated in a layer of ice and shimmering magically. “Beautiful…but treacherous.”

  “Far too slick to drive.” Lane grasped the side of the building to support himself. “I think we’ll have to hoof it.”

  “Yes, I guess I better leave my car here,” Emma said. “Nona’s house is only a few blocks away.”

  “I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

  “But what about you? How will you get home?”

  He smiled. “No worries. I live just down the street from you.”

  “Really? You live on Nona’s street?”

  “In the old McCormick place.”

  “Oh, that’s a lovely house.”

  “Do you think we can make it?” she asked as they took some tentative steps, slipping and nearly falling down again.

  “Maybe we should think of it as skating,” he suggested, “not walking.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She imitated how he was sliding his feet.

  After a few more slips and falls, Lane suggested they hold hands and help each other as they cautiously skated and slid along the sidewalk. Under any other circumstances, this could be considered very romantic. But Emma knew that it was simply a matter of necessity. And it was slow going.

  “It’s hard to believe you and Anne are sisters,” Lane said as they came to the end of their first block. “You seem as different as night and day.”

  “Yeah…and Anne would probably be day.” She laughed, trying to sound light. “Because she is usually so sunny and bright and positive.”

  “She’s definitely upbeat.”

  “Whereas I tend to be the realist…or as my mom says the pessimist.”

  “Like the Valentine Grinch?” he teased.

  “Exactly.” Her feet started to slide and he steadied her.

  “Easy does it.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed, trying to relax and wishing he hadn’t brought up Anne. But then maybe it was for the best. And since he had, she decided to take it to the next level. “So do you know Gerard…Anne’s ex?”

  “Yeah. He was one of the first people I met in town. He was coaching Tristan’s soccer team and doing a great job of it.”

  “So you guys were friends then?” Her tone was cautious.

  “Sure. Gerard is a good guy.”

  “I thought so too. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what went wrong with them.”

  Lane tightened his grip on her hand as they stepped from the curb to cross the street. “Be careful, I think this is going to be trickier than the sidewalk.”

  After a couple of close calls, they made it across. “Whew.” Emma let out a slow breath. “This is not easy.”

  “Maybe we should sing,” Lane suggested.

  “Sing?”

  “Sure.” And now he launched into the old Dean Martin song “That’s Amore.” “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.…” And now she joined into the lilting tune and was pleasantly surprised to see that the rhythm of the music really did lend itself to skating. “That’s amore!”

  Before long—and far too soon—they were at Nona’s house. Lane guided her along the footpath and safely up the porch steps. “Thank you so much,” she told him happily. “That was actually pretty fun.”

  “It was an enjoyable skate,” he said as he released her hand, holding on to the railing as he carefully slid down the steps then turned around. “Thank you for being my partner.” He made an awkward bow that narrowly missed becoming another fall, but fortunately he caught his balance before going down.

  “You be careful,” she warned.

  “Will do,” he promised as he slowly turned around. “And you get in the house and get warm, Emma.”

  “I think I’ll stay right here and make sure you make it safely home,” she called out. “I’d hate to find you frozen to the sidewalk with a broken neck in the morning.”

  He laughed and then broke into another round of “That’s Amore” as he continued skating down the street. Not feeling the least bit cold, she watched with amusement until he turned up the walk to the McCormick house. But as she turned to go into the house, she experienced a confused mixture of sadness and hope.

  The next day the sun came out and the ice from the previous night was just a memory…a very baffling memory. But Emma tried to put it behind her as she helped Nona with the household chores during the morning. Finally it was after lunch and Emma had done all she could to be sure Nona was cared for and comfortable.

  “I wanted to go set up a Valentine’s Day book table,” she explained as she set a mug of tea by Nona’s chair. “Just like Poppi used to do.”

  “Oh, yes, that is good.” Nona nodded approvingly. “Do not worry about me, dolce, I am just fine on my own. You and your mama, you make too much of me. I am not an invalid.”

  “I’ll only be an hour or so,” Emma promised.

  “An hour or three hours…does not matter.” Nona waved her hand. “I am fine, cara mia. I will probably just take a nap anyway.”

  “I’ll be home in time to fix dinner,” Emma assured her. “Wait for me.”

  As Emma walked to town, she couldn’t believe how little time it took compared to last night, when it had felt like an obstacle course—okay, it was a fun obstacle course. It was funny, the difference a few unexpected elements could make to a journey.

  Entering the bookstore, it was fun to see the colorful Valentine’s Day decorations suspended from the ceilings and adorning the walls. They really had done a knock-up job last night.

  “Emma,” Virginia called out from behind the coffee counter. “You did a wonderful job on the decorations.”

  “How did you know I did it?” Emma asked her as she unwound her scarf.

  “Lane was down for coffee.” The older woman grinned. “He always gets his coffee here.”

  “Aha.” Emma sniffed the coffee-scented air. “And I can understand why. It smells delicious in here.”

  “What can I get you?”

  Emma ordered a latte. “So…did Lane tell you that he helped me with it?”

  “I got that impression.” Virginia rinsed a cup in hot water.

  “I doubt I could’ve done it without him.”

  “He’s a good guy. Poppi really enjoyed his company.”

  “So I gather.” As Emma unbuttoned her coat, she explained today’s mission. “I know how Poppi loved having his Valentine’s Day table right up front. And I know you and Cindy are probably busy just running this store. Between the back room and the front register and the coffee bar, well, I thought I could help out a little.”

  “That’s right.” Virginia set her latte on the counter. “I completely forgot about the table.”

  “I would thoroughly enjoy putting it together.”

  “Bless you, Emma.” Virginia pushed a strand of gray hair away from her glasses. “Poppi would be happy to know that Valentine’s Day is in such good hands.”

  As Emma sipped the delicious hot coffee, looking around the cheerful bookstore, she
wondered if last night had been the final execution of Emma’s Valentine’s Day Grinch. Because today she felt happy and upbeat and hopeful. And yet at the same time there was a faint shadow of melancholy over her. But that was probably due to missing Poppi—especially being here in the bookstore in the daylight hours. She expected to see him popping around the corner with an armload of new books to be shelved. Or talking to a customer, trying to convey his love of reading and the classics, promising “you’re going to love this or I’ll give you your money back.” Very few disgruntled customers ever returned books. If they did, they didn’t usually come into the store again and that was probably just as well.

  Emma perused the shelves, selecting the usual titles that Poppi would pick for the Valentine’s Day table. Of course, she would include the Jane Austen books—after all, she and her sister were named after Austen characters. She also picked the Brontë sisters’ novels and The Scarlet Pimpernel, Gone with the Wind, and Anna Karenina, which though romantic ended sadly…not unlike real life sometimes. She selected Rebecca and Middlemarch, and for younger readers she put out Anne of Green Gables and Little Women. Besides prettily arranging the books on a red table cloth and white paper doilies, she also set out some boxes of chocolates and book accessories that looked festive, and by the time she was done, both Cindy and Virginia came over to praise her work.

  “That looks beautiful,” Cindy told her.

  “Poppi would be proud,” Virginia proclaimed.

  “Thanks,” Emma said. “That was fun. If you don’t mind, I’ll do another little table over by the coffee lounge.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea,” Virginia said. “I even have some mugs you might want to put out.”

  Emma was just starting on the coffee lounge table when Tristan came wandering in. With his stocking cap sitting lopsided on his head and his backpack dragging behind him on the floor, he looked a bit bedraggled and weary. Not to mention slightly lost.

  “Tristan!” Emma happily went over to hug him. “How are you?”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  “You look tired. Hard day?”

  He shrugged again then sniffed loudly.

  She reached for a napkin and handed it to him. “For your nose,” she said quietly.

  He wiped it then stuffed it into his coat pocket.

  “Need a cocoa to warm you up?” she asked.

  Now he smiled, nodding eagerly.

  “Go put your stuff away,” she said. “I’ll order your cocoa. Whipped cream?”

  “Yeah,” he called as he hurried over to a table by the window.

  She ordered the cocoa then returned to where Tristan was dropping his backpack on the floor by the table. “Mom’s gotta work at the gallery late tonight,” he told her as he peeled off his coat. “She told me to come over here.” He glanced around with a sad expression, as if looking for someone. “But Poppi’s not here anymore,” he said quietly. “It feels kinda weird.”

  “Oh…yeah…” Emma nodded. “Did you used to spend time with Poppi after school?”

  “Uh-huh.” Tristan pulled off his hat, leaving his dark hair sticking out like a scarecrow’s. “Mr. Steiner—that’s the guy who owns the gallery—he don’t like having kids around. He’s always saying I’ll break something. But I never did. So Mom always tells me to go find Poppi.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “But Poppi’s gone.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” Emma smiled and ruffled his messy hair. “Do you mind spending time with me?”

  His brown eyes lit up. “No. What’re you doing, Aunt Emma?”

  She pointed out the decorations. “I got the Valentine’s decorations up last night and today I’m getting the tables set up. Want to help?”

  And so, after he finished his cocoa and used the bathroom and washed his hands, Emma put him to work cutting out hearts to decorate the table. By folding the red and pink construction paper like an accordion, they made chains of connected hearts, using them as a border going all around the table. It looked so pretty that they continued making these chains for the coffee counter as well. When they were done, everyone agreed that it was beautiful—and that Poppi would be delighted.

  Chapter 7

  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.”