"You're too alone, Emma." Millie was firm. "You come here, you go home and you hardly ever go out. You've told me so yourself," she said as Emma made to protest. "So, now you have a nice young man looking at you, and you want to ignore it?" "Not ignore it, exactly. Just . . . ." Emma picked up the coffee. "This is a tough time of year for me. I'm not sure I could deal with . . . with something like that." "This is the perfect time," Millie countered. "This is when things change, that's what my mother always told me. Christmas is for changes and new beginnings." "I thought that was spring." Emma tried to change the subject as she took a step towards Sol and Luke's table. "You know, everything gets reborn in spring." Millie scoffed. "You calling my momma a liar?" "No. No, ma'am." Emma hurried over to the men, stifling a small smile. Millie had done a lot for Emma, and far be it from her to say that Millie's mother had been wrong about anything. Sol got up from the table and headed to. I suggested to Amelia that all I wanted was for her to sing me a song. I was Machiavellian in my behavior, too. I complained about a lack of inspiration on my movie script. I complained about lacking the brightness and levity I needed to be creative. I even roped Peter into it, letting him comment to Amelia how unproductive I was because of my worry for her. It was all to no avail.I wanted to hear Amelia laugh and giggle again. I wanted to see her running and playing with Rufus. I wanted the mischief back in her eyes. I wanted it so badly I ended up lying to her, something I’d never done.Occasionally, it’s the simplest things that crack the wall and make the difference in life.It was a late Saturday evening, almost two months after the incident. We were watching television. Rufus was asleep. He’d played most of the day with Amelia, and trained with her as well. Now over seventy-five pounds, he was all muscle and love and completely devoted to Amelia.I settled my hand on Amelia’s leg.
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