Emma reached into the back of the closet and pulled out a dark green dress that fell just past her knees. She held it up to the full-length mirror, a smile hovering on the edge of her lips. “I haven’t worn this in years. You should have it.”
Jules looked over her shoulders and shook her head. “No way. That dress will look great on you, Mom. It’s still got a few good Emma years left in it.”
Emma laughed and turned away from the mirror. “Emma years? Is that a measurement now?”
Jules emerged with a long skirt and a soft-looking red sweater. “It is to me. Anyway, I’m going to give Kyle a call before I get ready.”
“Tell Kyle I said hi.”
Emma went back into the bathroom, and while she waited for the shower to heat up, she snuck glances at herself in the mirror. Instead of the familiar scattering of pimples, uneven teeth, and stick-straight hair staring back at her, she now had tight lines around her eyes and a few gray hairs that were artfully hidden.
She had no idea why she’d half-expected her teenage self to stare out from the same mirror.
Exhaling, Emma examined herself further by twisting to and fro until steam filled the room. As soon as it did, she peeled off her clothes and stood under the showerhead, trying to think of safe topics to bring up during dinner.
A short while later, Jules sang at the top of her lungs while Emma rolled up a pair of stockings and shoved her feet into boots. After running a comb through her hair, she dabbed on some concealer and clear lipstick and reached for her purse. Downstairs, her mother was waiting by the door, wearing a red cashmere sweater over dark pants.
She was looking at her watch while Henry sat beside her, tapping his knees, his discomfort and reluctance evident by the way he kept glancing at his study door longingly.
Her mother sighed and checked her watch so often that Emma was tempted to call off the whole thing.
For Jules’s sake, she bit back her retort and placed one foot in front of the other.
Neither reacted when Emma came down, except to offer a brusque nod.
Everyone rose to their feet when Jules emerged, a vision in her flowing skirt, ankle boots, and sweater that made her eyes pop. In the car, Jules insisted on driving and keeping up a steady stream of conversation while the radio played. A few blocks away, a headache was already forming in the back of Emma’sskull, one she tried to drown out when they walked into the Brew and caught the last notes of “Jingle Bell Rock” ringing through the air.
A smattering of applause rose.
Jules steered them to a booth by the dartboard and signaled to the nearest waitress. Emma was glancing around and trying not to fidget when Jack returned with their tray of eggnog and slices of fruit cake.
“Jack.” Marie rose to her feet and enveloped him in a warm hug. “It’s always a pleasure to see you. You always seem to be busy when we come in.”
Jack drew back and gave her a winning smile. “I’m never too busy for you, Mrs. Sullivan.”
Marie waved his comment away and stepped back to gesture to Henry, who was pretending to skim through the menu. “Dear, look who it is.”
“Mr. Sullivan. Thanks for stopping by tonight.” Jack kept his smile in place and clasped his hands behind his back. “I know, on nights like tonight, you’d rather be by the telescope.”
Henry smiled for the first time all night and lowered the menu. “At leastsomeoneunderstands. Business looks like it’s doing good.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Henry placed both hands on the table and nodded toward Jules. “Have you met my granddaughter? She’s studying to be a journalist.”
“I have. You must be so proud. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to get back. It’s a big night tonight.”
As soon as he disappeared, Emma reached for the glass of water to hide her frown.
Where was Jack’s usual warmth when dealing with her?
Had he gotten tired of her too?
Marley went up on stage, and Jules joined her midway through a rendition of “Merry Christmas, Darling.” The two of them danced and twirled around together. Near the end of the song, everyone began to sing along, and Emma found herself swaying to the beat while nibbling on the cake. As soon as they were done, Emma was the first to rise to her feet and clap so hard that her hands hurt.
When she sat back down, her parents were giving her a strange look.
“I thought you didn’t like karaoke night,” Henry commented between sips of his drink. “I remember you saying that.”
