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same smile he’d worn when she was his princess.
    “There you are!” He swept her up into his arms and swung her around, as if she weighed fifty pounds again. “I took off work early today to see you, but we were beginning to think you’d never show up.”
    “I’m sorry, Dad,” Brooke said, her delight at seeing him fading as he set her down, waiting for an explanation. “I had something to do before I could come home.”
    “Well, it’d better be good to keep your old man waiting.”
    Tell them now,
Brooke told herself.
Get it over with, so you can relax and enjoy the rest of the night.
Brooke’s throat constricted suddenly, and she opened her mouth to tell them about the renovation and the windows and Nick. “I had to—”
    The sound of footsteps cut her off, and she turned to see her sister, Roxy, leaning in the doorway, watching the homecoming with an expressionless face. Her baby-blond hair was pulled up in a clip, and loose curls trailed down her back. Her eyes, an almost bronze color that Brooke had never seen on anyone else, seemed distant and guarded. Brooke had begun to notice achange in her sister a couple of years before, during the family’s visits in Columbia.
    “She’s just preoccupied with her job at city hall,” her mother had said, trying to explain Roxy’s aloofness. Or, “She’s got that artist’s temperament like you had. Her dancing is about all she cares about.” But Brooke had sensed that there was something more in the strain etched on her sister’s face and the distance she’d put between them.
    “Roxy.” Brooke reached for her sister and pulled the stiff young woman into a one-sided hug. Roxy’s subtle resistance instantly confirmed that all was not well. Brooke released her and saw that, while Roxy did smile, it didn’t appear to be without effort. “Hi, Brooke,” she said quietly.
    Brooke peered into her eyes, searching for a clue as to what was wrong. “Are you okay?” she asked.
    “Sure,” Roxy said. “Fine.”
    Brooke dropped her hands.
    Her mother stepped between them before Brooke could analyze her sister’s mood further, guiding them both into the kitchen. “I’ve kept dinner warm for you, Brooke,” she said. “So, tell us. What in the world finally convinced you that you wouldn’t turn into a pillar of salt if you came home?”
    Brooke watched her mother bustle around the stove filling the plates…her father, easing into his designated place at the head of the table…her sister, still standing slightly away from the table, waiting with grudging interest for Brooke’s answer.
    “It’s a commission,” Brooke said. “I had an offer to do the stained-glass windows at St. Mary’s. Hayden Bible Church bought the building, and they’re renovating—”
    Her mother swung around, astounded as she regarded her daughter. “You mean, they asked
you
to do it?” A slow smile spread across her face as she met her husband’s eyes.
    “Of course they asked,” George replied with a characteristic chuckle, puffing up as if the townspeople assigned his daughter to every important job that came along. “Our little girl designs the best windows in the hemisphere. Who else would they have asked?”
    “Well, the church members aren’t really the ones who picked me,” Brooke said tentatively.
    Her mother brought two of the plates to the table and set them on their place mats, still listening intently.
    “In fact,” Brooke went on, “I’m not even sure they know that I was chosen.”
    Her mother went back for the other two plates, and Roxy sat down. “Then who hired you?” her mother asked.
    Brooke stared down at her plate, wishing some miracle would occur to wipe the subject from their minds. They hadn’t discussed Nick Marcello in all these years. Why did they have to do it now? She took a deep breath and told herself there was no way to avoid it. “Nick Marcello asked me,” she whispered.
    Her mother dropped the fork she had just lifted, and it