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makeup expert. She wore hers a little too dark for Natalie's tastes, but Sarah had no problem with it. Natalie had to admit, Sydney did a nice job applying eyeshadow for her. When she did it herself, she usually applied two colors, a light and a dark and hoped for the right contrast. Sydney had used five different colors of browns and applied them in layers, but not heavy. The look was natural, yet it was apparent that she had on eye makeup. Her green eyes seemed to pop, her. lashes even longer. Lash primer—that's what Sydney said was the magic trick.

Natalie rose from the chair she'd been sitting on in the bathroom while the girls worked on her, Sarah sitting on the toilet with the lid down.

"I think that top is too much for a hockey game," Natalie protested.

Sarah joined her in the bedroom. "I don't. I think it looks great. Hey, the tag is still on it."

"I've haven't worn it yet."

"Why not?"

"No place to wear it."

"Put it with jeans," BreeAnn suggested.

Natalie frowned. "Jeans?"

"Sure," Sydney chimed in. "You can wear anything with jeans."

Sarah took the blouse, held it up over the top Natalie was wearing, which was a plain white cable-knit sweater. Nothing fancy, but it was very pretty and practical to wear inside a cold ice arena. The silk…she'd be freezing in that.

"I think you should wear the blouse." Sarah held it out to Natalie and she was forced to take it as her sister invaded her closet. "And I think you should wear these shoes with the jeans."

She held up a pair of four-inch heels Natalie reserved for a business suit. "Those? They won't look right with jeans."

"Sure they will." Sarah propelled her to the bed, sat her down and within several moments, the three of them had swapped out a perfectly good sweater and Doc Martens for a black silk blouse and heels.

They urged her to stand up and give them a turnaround. She felt self-conscious—it was too much. "I can't wear this."

"But you like him, Aunt Natalie," BreeAnn said, her face beaming. "You have that look in your eyes that Sydney gets when she likes a boy."

Raising a hand to her cheek, Natalie replied, "I do? I mean, I do not."

"Yeah, you do." Sydney brought the blush brash over and dusted a final trace across the bridge of Natalie's nose.

BreeAnn fussed and fixed her hair one last time, then the girls went downstairs to microwave some popcorn.

Sarah stared at Natalie so long that she finally said, "What?"

"I think you should just have fun."

"I intend to, but you're making a huge deal out of this. It's nothing."

"It could be something. The man was just too gorgeous for words when he was on TV. He's intelligent and, from everything you've told me, he's adjusted to being single in a relatively short amount of time. The fact that he asked you out says he's ready to move on."

"I keep telling you, we're going as friends. This is nothing. He's not ready to get involved. I saw a picture of his ex-wife and stepdaughter in his fireman's helmet. He took it out in front of me, made an excuse why he'd left it in there."

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Sarah justified. "That shows he's not vindictive. He's sweet and compassionate. He didn't have to take the photo out in front of you, but he did. That says a lot. Who knows, you could be 'the one' for him. After all, he gave you those fabulous flowers."

"As a thank-you for friendship. I am absolutely not 'the one' for him." Natalie walked through the bedroom. She got her watch, put it on; then selected a pair of hoop earrings. "He wants kids, he told me. I have a daughter in college and the next baby I hold will be my grandchild."

"He didn't ask you out tonight to make a baby with him."

"I couldn't do it even if I wanted to—I'm sure of it each month when my period is late or early or whatever it decides to do." Natalie smoothed her hands down the blouse, still not convinced it was the right choice. "So why invest in something that won't go anywhere?"

"How can having fun be a bad investment for the night?"

Not responding, Natalie sat on the bed, composed herself and took a deep breath. "I shouldn't be going anywhere with him. It's like leading him on or something. I think maybe he's hoping there could be something more. But if I'm wrong, it would be extremely presumptuous of me to blurt out I can't have kids. I can't win for losing. I never should have said I'd go."

Sarah sat beside her, took her hand. "I think you're nervous because you like him more than you're willing to admit. You said you had a great time at Chuck E. Cheese's. Why not have more great times?"

Quiet a moment, Natalie said softly, "I can't afford to get attached to him. I think I could…very easily. It scares me."

"Don't be scared."

Natalie met her sister's eyes. "After my surgery, my outlook on life changed. I've thought about it—I don't want to have doubts about things, I want to plunge in and hope for the best in everything. To live each day to the fullest."

"That's what Mom wanted for us," Sarah said quietly.

"I know. And I forgot about what that meant until I woke up on that hospital bed and had a reality check." Natalie looked at her hands and the pink polish she'd painted on her nails. "I don't know what's ahead for me. I want to stay hopeful that I'll find the right man even-tually, but I know it's not Tony Cruz. He's at a totally different place than I am, wanting different things in life than I do. If I were ten years younger and had never had Cassie, I'd be on him so fast he wouldn't know what hit him."

Sarah's soft laugh filled the bedroom. "And he'd love every minute."

Natalie lifted

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