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with moist-looking dark eyes.
    â€œYou miss him?”
    He nodded again.
    â€œMe too.” She sat down in the wicker chair next to him, wondering what she might say to make him feel better. “But you do know you’ll see him again someday, don’t you?”
    â€œYeah…I know.” He looked down at his hands in his lap.
    â€œAnd you know that he’s still here with us, don’t you?”
    Tristan looked up with a curious expression. “You mean like a ghost?”
    She smiled. “Not really like that.” She reached for his hand, holding it up in the light. “See your hands, Tristan, they remind me of Poppi.”
    He stared at his hands. “Really?”
    â€œYeah. You have those same long fingers.” Now she pointed at his face. “And you have the same coloring as Poppi too. Same deep brown eyes and chestnut hair.”
    Tristan frowned. “But Poppi’s hair was white.”
    â€œI mean when he was young like you are, Tristan.” She pointed to her own hair. “His hair was a lot like mine—curly too.” She pointed back at him. “And like yours…when he was a young man.”
    â€œOh…” He nodded like he understood now.
    â€œSo looking at you is kind of like seeing Poppi too. I can see him in you.” She smiled. “And that is pretty cool.”
    Tristan’s lips curled into a smile. “Yeah. That is pretty cool.” Now they tried to think of even more ways they were both like Poppi—everything from loving books and nature walks and Nona’s raviolis to feeling shy and socially awkward at times. And Emma realized that her young nephew, who would turn ten in April, really did seem to have some of his great-grandfather’s finest qualities…and it was wonderfully reassuring.

Chapter 4
    Emma and Tristan were laughing over the time Poppi had surprised Nona by taking her to the airport with the intention of swooping her off to Hawaii for their fiftieth anniversary, only to discover that Nona would have no part in it. “She was scared to death of flying and airplanes,” Emma explained. “Fortunately, Poppi had trip insurance. They went on an ocean cruise instead.”
    â€œGood thing she wasn’t scared of boats too,” Tristan said.
    â€œIs this a private party?”
    Emma looked up to see Anne’s attractive friend standing in the doorway. “No, of course, not,” she told him. “Feel free to join us.” She made a nervous smile—as if he was aware of how she’d been stealthily watching him.
    â€œThanks…I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”
    â€œYes…but I think I know who you are,” she confessed.
    â€œI’m Lane Forester. And I know that you’re Emma Burcelli.”
    â€œ Aunt Emma,” Tristan clarified.
    â€œYes.” Lane sat down on the couch across from them. “Aunt Emma from Seattle. I’m actually surprised our paths haven’t crossed before this.”
    â€œWell, I haven’t made it home as much as I should’ve these last couple of years.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œYou know?” She tipped her head to one side.
    â€œYour grandfather mentioned it a time or two…in passing.”
    â€œOh…” She sighed sadly to think of how she missed being home for last Christmas. “Well, that’s going to change now. I’ll be staying with Nona for a while…to help out.”
    He nodded. “That’s good to hear. I was worried for her. She’ll be so lost without him.”
    â€œYes…and she’s had some health issues.” She wasn’t comfortable with how the conversation seemed to be taking a downward dive—especially after trying to lift Tristan’s spirits. “I really liked what you said about Poppi at the memorial service,” she said cheerfully. “It sounded like you knew him pretty well.”
    â€œI felt