and depressed, as she frequently had been in the months following her divorce.
Emma pressed a hand to her belly. This baby couldn’t replace Holly. But she hoped—prayed—he or she would be the magic bullet that would lift her spirits and allow her to enjoy time with her friends, renew her relationship with her sister and love her niece....
Not too much to ask, was it?
* * *
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TESSA!” Emma crouched to hand her niece a gaily wrapped present. Half a dozen little girls, their faces painted with flowers and butterflies, were seated in a circle to watch the present opening. Emma’s chest tightened with a familiar ache. Holly should have been part of the circle, sitting next to her cousin.
“What do you say, Tess?” Alana stood behind her daughter, dressed in her trademark track pants and T-shirt. Her normally neat brown ponytail was fraying, no doubt a similar state to her nerves at the prospect of two hours of kiddie fun.
“Fank you, Auntie Emma.” Tessa’s honey-blond curls were pinned back with butterfly clips. She jiggled up and down on her pink ballet flats, making the fairy wings pinned to her tulle dress bounce.
“Go ahead and open it.” Emma smiled, trying not to imagine what Holly would look like at this age. Trying not to imagine her speaking real sentences...
In the background Dave was blowing up a plastic fairy castle with a foot pump. His fine blond hair, ruffled where it was thinning on top, waved with every stamp on the pump. He must have come home from work early for Tessa’s party. He’d always been great like that. Alana was so lucky.
A woman wearing a filmy dress with sparkles in her long hair and fairy wings on her back was putting away the face paint.
Tessa tore open the paper and clasped her hands. “Oh!” Inside was an extravagantly frilly pink dress with puffy sleeves and a ruffled skirt. She peeled back another layer of tissue paper to uncover a sparkly tiara and shrieked. “Mummy, look!”
“She doesn’t already have a dress like that, does she?” Emma asked. “I kept the receipt.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not a frilly kind of gal. Tessa’s such a girlie girl. She’s lucky her aunt is, too.” Alana smiled warmly. “I’m so glad you could come. We’ve hardly seen you since...” Her gaze flicked away. They both knew Emma hadn’t stepped foot in Alana’s house for a year and a half, not since Holly’s funeral. Oh, they met at their parents’ house and in the village for coffee occasionally, but the long hours spent at each other’s homes with their babies were a thing of the past.
Emma straightened from her crouch, her pain mixed with guilt. She and Alana had always been close and when their girls were born—a first child for both—the bond had grown even stronger. Together they’d charted Tessa’s and Holly’s every milestone, first tooth, first step, first word... When they’d realized they were getting competitive they’d had a laugh over it.
The accident had ended all that. For the first six months Emma couldn’t even bear to look at Tessa, which only made her feel worse because she adored her niece. She’d hurt Alana, too, pushing her away when her sister only wanted to be there for her, and comfort her. Nor was it easy for Alana. She grieved over Holly’s death, too. Emma knew she felt uncomfortable and guilty for having a daughter while Emma had none. Somehow, through feeling too much for each other, they’d ended up barely talking.
It was hard to begin again.
Alana tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. Cleared her throat. “Cup of tea?”
Badly needing to get away from the room of little girls, Emma agreed readily. “Have you got herbal?”
“Of course. Go on ahead and put the kettle on. I’ll see what’s next with the fairy lady and be right there.”
Emma went through the dining room to the kitchen she knew almost as well as her own. While the kettle boiled Emma admired Tessa’s colorful drawings that her proud mother had stuck to the fridge. Someday, her new baby would make drawings.
Peppermint tea was steeping when Alana returned and announced they had a few minutes while the fairy lady led the children in a game. She took down tea mugs painted with stylized owls. “I was thinking. Maybe sometime you and I could go out by ourselves?”
“That would be lovely.” Emma hated the uncertain note in her sister’s voice, as if Emma might not want to hang