Emilie's Christmas Love by James Lavene, Joyce Lavene Page A

actually allowing herself to kiss him.
    Not just kiss him, she reminded herself, replaying the last few minutes in her mind. She’d been consumed by him.
    Shivering, she pulled into her drive and parked the car in the garage. She sat in the quiet, gathering cold for a long time. The darkness surrounded her like a thick blanket.
    It had been ten years since she'd felt anything like that for a man. Ten years of assuring herself that it wouldn't happen again. It was frightening to think that it had all been for nothing. It could just as easily have been David in the car tonight.
    The cold took her breath away and made her leg throb painfully as she walked to the house.
    When her marriage to David had ended ten years before, she'd promised herself that she wouldn't be so gullible, so deeply affected. It had been an easy vow to keep—until she'd met Nick.
    That's all it had taken. The right man. She’d suddenly stopped thinking with her brain and her hormones had taken over.
    She'd made that mistake before. She almost didn't recover from it. It couldn't happen again. She wouldn't let it happen again.
    "You're white as a sheet, child!" Joda opened the door as Emilie put her hand on the knob. "Is something wrong?"
    "N-no," Emilie lied. Her stomach twisted as she thought of telling her aunt that she had come so close to making the same mistake again. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to bed now."
    The older woman stepped to the side to allow her niece into the house. She shook her flowing white mane when she saw her eyes. Emilie was a terrible liar.
    Still, the torment she saw there was too deep to demand an explanation. Time enough for that later.
    "Goodnight, Emilie, mon enfant ." Joda kissed her forehead and looked deeply into the eyes that matched her own. "Tomorrow, we will go out and eat something festive and drink too much wine, hmm?"
    Emilie managed a wan smile and held her cold trembling hands together tightly. "Maybe so. Goodnight."
    #
    The next morning was sunny and warmer. The sky was blue and clear. Icicles had already started forming on the long length of gabled roof along the front of the house.
    Emilie had received a text from Nick saying that Adam played the flute and had his own instrument. He didn’t go into detail. She didn’t ask.
    Composed, ready to face the world, Emilie drove the short distance to school. She walked into the principal's office and informed him that Adam played the flute and yes, he had his own instrument.
    She picked up her mail and strode confidently back to her classroom, smiling and wishing everyone she passed a good morning.
    It was Friday, after all, she reasoned, when a few of her fellow teachers looked at her as though she'd lost her mind.
    Throughout the school, maintenance workers and teachers were busy putting up holiday decorations. Shiny silver garland entwined with huge green bunches of holly were gracefully draped from classroom to classroom.
    Emilie smiled when she saw them. Nothing terrible could happen during the Christmas season. Everything was going to be all right. She opened the door to her classroom. Nick stood up from the desk he'd occupied and her heart sank like a stone.
    "Hi." He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
    "Good morning." She tried to keep her equilibrium after a long night of soul searching that had supposedly led to this morning's calm.
    "Adam got on the bus this morning without his flute." He held the battered case out in front of him like a shield.  "I wasn’t sure if he’d need it or not."
    "I'll be sure he gets it," she answered, not looking at him.
    "Emilie," he started, moving toward her after putting the flute case down on her desk. "I'm sorry about last night."
    She smiled. "I'm sorry too. I was tired and I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it was stress. Sometimes life gets the better of me."
    Nick looked down at the flute case in front of him. "I didn't want you to think I was trying to use the situation with Adam. I know I kissed you . .