Andrea was not happy. After Quinn left, she was waiting on the stairs until Crissy turned around. She crossed her arms, one sharp hip jutted out, shoulders tilted back. Crissy knew that look. She grew up watching Andrea perfect it. That look meant murder.

"You never said you were seeing anyone," Andrea said. The smoothness of her tone from only a few minutes ago was gone now, replaced with acidic accusation.

"I didn't think it was really that important," Crissy replied. "You have enough to juggle with the wedding. Mom has her clients."

"That won't fly with Mother. You know that. She's going to be furious when she finds out."

Crissy spread her hands. "She's going to be furious with me no matter what."

Andrea closed the space between them in two long strides, heels click-clacking on the tile floor like bullets sliding into the chamber of a gun.

"Mother won't approve. At all. I can tell you that right now."

"She approved of my ex-fiance and look how that turned out. Complete disaster."

"Oh, don't start with that. You threw that down the tubes because you're too sensitive."

Crissy clamped her mouth shut as anger burned in her stomach. Hot words flooded to the tip of her tongue but she didn't trust herself to say what she meant and not cause more harm than good.

"You belong at the firm, with Mother and me," Andrea hissed. "If you ally yourself with someone like that, you'll be stuck in this backwater for the rest of your life. You'll always be poor and you simply can't do that to Mother. You've already been a burden enough. You can do so much better than him, Cristina."

At the attack on Quinn, Crissy's self-control vanished.

"No," she said.

Andrea blinked and jerked back, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"His name is Quinn. And he is one of the best damn things to ever happen in my life. He makes me happy. And don't you dare say one more word about him being anything less than the incredible, thoughtful, kind person that he is."

Andrea sputtered, shocked. "Did you see the way he spoke to me?"

"I saw you insulting him and..."

"I most certainly was not insulting him," Andrea cut in. "And that just goes to show how bad of an influence this place has been on you. I am nothing but politeness. You just never appreciate it."

"You sound exactly like Mom when you talk like that," Crissy fired back before she could stop herself. "Like a little clone. Because you can't think for yourself."

The slap came so fast and so sharp, Crissy didn't even see it coming. She should have known, the way she was standing up to Andrea and fighting back, that Andrea would never simply sit there and take it. That had never been her way.

"You have only a few months to clean up your attitude," Andrea hissed, jabbing her finger in Crissy's face. "Because I will have no problem cutting you out of my wedding if you keep acting like this. Ungrateful and selfish. And if you force my hand, if you make me take my own sister out of my wedding, you might as well just stab Mother in the back now. Her heart will be broken because you were the one to take away a memory every mother should have at her daughter's wedding."

She spun, stalked up the stairs and slammed the door to Crissy's room. Crissy stood there, feeling more than a little dazed and dizzy from arguing with her sister's twisted logic. And her cheek felt like it was on fire from where Andrea had slapped her.

"That's it."

Amy stormed out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Crissy moved in front of her, physically blocking the stairway.

"Crissy," Amy growled. "Move."

"No."

"She has no right to treat you like that!"

Crissy nodded. "And that exact same argument could be made for how I treated her which I'm not proud of by the way."

"You were well within your rights and..."

"I could have handled it much better. So it's best to let things cool down for a little while, Amy. Please."

Amy started past her but Crissy shifted her weight, cutting off any access to the stairs. Amy pulled back with a sigh of annoyance.

"She flirted with Quinn," Amy ground out. "Right in front of you."

"That's nothing new."

Amy pressed a hand to her forehead, the other hand propped on her hip.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. I can't believe you're so calm when I want to rip that bitch's face off right now. She breezes in here, turns everything upside down at the snap of her fingers. You have a life, Crissy. You have a job and a boyfriend. She can't do this to you."

Crissy reached out, took Amy's elbow. "For once in my life, Amy, I want to be happy with my family, especially for my sister's wedding. It's only for a day tops, and then she's gone. After the wedding, what are the chances I'll ever see Andrea again? She'll be married. She'll start having kids. This might be my last chance to make it right with my sister."

Amy sighed again and let her hands drop to her sides. "I hate how you never get angry at anything."

Crissy hooked her arm through Amy's elbow and squeezed her arm. "Oh, I get angry plenty of times. But I feel so guilty for it." She shrugged. "It just causes more hurt in the end and that's the last thing I want for anyone."

Amy glared up the stairwell at Crissy's closed door. She placed her hand over Crissy's at her elbow.

"I want you to be happy with your family too, sugar," she said. "I really do. I've wanted that for you ever since you were little. But I'm afraid you're holding out hope for the impossible at this point."

She kissed Crissy's cheek and returned to the kitchen leaving Crissy to wrestle with the silent realization that deep down, she knew Amy was right.

[][][]

Andrea didn't come out of Crissy's room until the next morning, forcing Crissy to sleep on Amy's couch. Andrea swept into the kitchen in cream colored slacks and a navy blue blouse, and started nosing through Crissy's cabinets as Crissy wrestled with a pan of blueberry cake doughnuts.

Crissy glanced up, startled at Andrea's sudden entrance.

"Can I...help you?" she asked. "What are you looking for?"

Andrea turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, and placed a hand to her chest.

"Oh, are you talking to me this morning?" she said, tone dry and tight with condescension.

Crissy closed her eyes and sighed. "Andrea, about yesterday..."

Andrea crossed her arms. "Yes, you were quite rude."

Crissy gripped the pan of doughnuts so tight, she could feel the heat emanating from the metal through her oven mitt. She slid it onto the cooling rack, using the task of food to keep her grounded and calm. How Amy ever thought she didn't get angry at anything was a mystery. The anger was boiling now, dangerously close to the surface, and she didn't want a repeat of yesterday's performance. It was up to Crissy to keep things calm this morning.

"Let's just...forget about yesterday," she offered. "Let's leave it behind us and..."

Andrea snorted and shook her head.

"You were always terrible at apologies."

Crissy gritted her teeth. "Andrea, planning a wedding is stressful. We don't need to add to that stress."

"You don't need to tell me that. I've been planning this for years. You haven't."

Amy appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her gaze darkened when she spotted Andrea but Crissy shook her head. Amy hesitated and almost appeared to take a step forward but Crissy kept staring at her, hard, and Amy stuck out her tongue at Andrea's back before she walked away.

Crissy slid her oven mitts off and turned to focus all of her attention on Andrea.

"Then tell me what else you need to decide on for the bridesmaids' dresses," she said. "Let's start there."

Andrea looked away, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid, then she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she said. "I got nothing done yesterday anyway. Complete waste of time."

Slowly, Crissy let out a small breath of relief. That was nowhere near an apology and nothing had been fixed, not really, but at least they weren't at each other's throats. For however long that lasted.

"Then let's get something done today," Crissy said. "I'll bring something up to eat while we work if you like."

Andrea held up a hand. "I'm on a very strict diet regime, that one Mother sent you details about." She paused, looked Crissy up and down. "You did get that diet, didn't you?"

Crissy hesitated. She'd shoved the box in the back of her closet under a pile of dirty laundry she was ignoring.

Andrea looked annoyed. Again. "Cristina, the clock is ticking. I already know the sizes for the dresses and right now you wouldn't..."

Before Crissy could speak up, Amy came into the kitchen, carrying a tray of dishes. She shot a dirty look in Andrea's direction before she dumped the dishes in the sink with the loudest clatter she could manage.

"Hey, Andy," Amy said. "Haven't seen you around here in a while."

"Don't call me that," Andrea growled. "It's Andrea."

"Oh, right. Forgot. You told me that last time you were here, didn't you?"

"And every other time I've seen you in my life."

Amy grinned and waved her off. "Me and my silly brain. Can't remember anything these days."

Andrea turned to Crissy. "I'll be upstairs. Try not to be too long down here. We have so much to go over today."

"Oh," Amy said, "but aren't you hungry? You hardly touched anything yesterday, from what I heard. Had a little bridezilla meltdown."

Crissy sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Amy," she whispered. "Stop."

Andrea froze, her back ramrod straight. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing to worry about, Andy, honey."

"Andrea."

"It's the blood sugar. Brides-to-be going on all these crazy diets to fit into a certain size when their man only cares about taking the dress off and..."

"I don't have to listen to this crude..."

Amy swept a plate of cinnamon sugar cake doughnuts, still warm and steaming, freshly glazed, right under Andrea's nose.

"Doughnut?" she asked.

Andrea glared. "I only eat low carbs, no sugar, and certainly nothing with fat in it."

"Ah, I see," Amy nodded. She dropped the plate on the counter, grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet, filled it at the tap, and presented it to Andrea.

"You'll be wanting this then," she said with a smile.

Andrea's chin jutted out and she snatched the glass before turning away. Amy faced Crissy, triumphant. Crissy shook her head.

"Amy," she sighed.

"I have absolutely no regrets," she replied. "I should have done that a long time ago."

"You know how volatile she is. We're barely on speaking terms as it is now. You might have held back a bit."

Amy laughed as she stole a doughnut and bit into it, dribbling cinnamon sugar all over her t-shirt. "Oh, sugar, that was me being nice for your sake. You have no idea how much I just curbed what I really wanted to say."

[][][]

Andrea stayed for three days and she was showing no signs of leaving. Crissy didn't want to ask, in case she sounded rude. They argued over countless wedding details and Crissy suffered countless jabs below the belt about her appearance, her weight, her job, her ex-fiance... She was constantly walking a very, very fine line with her sister on an hourly basis and they already had enough upsets to stumble over. Crissy didn't want to add any more arguments to their already mile long list.

Then the weekend arrived. The weekend that Quinn had promised to plan something for just the two of them. And when Andrea came into the kitchen that morning, dressed to the nines as usual in a charcoal grey suit and matching heels, a ream of wedding plans in one hand, a wedding magazine in the other, Crissy stifled the urge to cry. Her sister wasn't leaving. The shop was already falling behind because Crissy couldn't bake nearly as much as she needed to while she was arguing with Andrea over her wedding plans.

Amy whistled, interrupting Andrea's chatter.

"Crissy," she said. "You have a visitor."

"I'll be right back," Crissy said to Andrea.

"Is it that firefighter again?" Andrea asked.

Crissy ignored her as she left the kitchen and found Quinn waiting on the sidewalk. He waved at her but she motioned for him to stay out there. As she slid her coat on, she glanced over her shoulder to see Andrea watching from the kitchen doorway, scowling. Crissy slipped out of the shop, slid her arm through Quinn's elbow and pulled him away from the door.

Quinn pressed her back against the wall and the broad, warm expanse of his hands wandered inside her coat, wrapped around her waist. He smiled, whispered a breathless, "hey," as he ducked his head to kiss her. But he stopped, pulled back, concerned.

"Crissy? You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

"Why do I not believe you?"

She looked up and met his gaze. "I'm fine," she repeated. But the words held no conviction and she stifled a grimace at the weakness of her own voice.

"You look exhausted."

Crissy sagged and leaned forward, nestling against Quinn's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand smoothing down the back of her head in a steady, soothing rhythm.

"Your sister's visit is taking a lot out of you, isn't it?" he asked.

Crissy nodded and closed her eyes, soaking up as much of his body heat and the comfort of his presence and the thrumming of his heartbeat at her ear as she possibly could.

"And you have to cancel our date, don't you?" Quinn continued.

She groaned. "How did you know?"

He shrugged and she could feel the movement through his whole body.

"I could see it in your face. You look like you could use a good cry and some chocolate."

Crissy managed a small laugh despite the miserable ache in her chest. All morning, she had been worried how she could break the bad news to Quinn, let him down easy. She had wavered between excited at seeing him again and feeling utterly sick to her stomach at the same time. But here he had taken the words out of her mouth and the hard part was over because he already knew and she didn't even have to tell him.

"I'm so, so, sorry," she said. "I thought Andrea would be long gone by now. She usually can't stand to be around me for more than twenty-four hours, let alone staying in this little town for that long. She hates it here."

"Crissy, it's okay. I get it. Family is important." He paused, huffed a laugh. "Even if they are more than a little terrifying."

"I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you."

Quinn shook his head. He let his fingers come to rest against the back of her neck as he pulled away to look at her.

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"You don't have to."

He frowned. "That's...not the point, Crissy. The point is that life happens and you don't have to take the blame for it."

Crissy was silent at that statement. Amy always told her that too, that she didn't have to take the fall for everything that went wrong.

Quinn brushed his thumb over her chin and she leaned into the warmth of his hand.

"Next weekend," he said. "We'll postpone until then. That will give you plenty of time to catch up on rest you very clearly have not had lately."

"That sounds good to me. So...what did you have planned anyway?"

"Nice try."

"Not even a little hint?"

"Nope. You'll find out next weekend."

Crissy rolled her eyes and tipped her head back.

"That's so far away though."

Quinn chuckled, obviously amused at her dismay. "You better not die from the wait."

"It would serve you right. Then you'd have to find yourself another girlfriend."

"Well, I happen to like the girlfriend I already have. One-of-a-kind, very rare. I guess I could give you a little hint, just to hold you over."

Crissy grinned and tugged at his waist, drawing him closer. "Tell me."

He tipped his head to the side, considering, thinking. "More than likely...it has something to do with snow."

"That is not a hint! There's snow everywhere!"

"I couldn't give too much away. You might guess the surprise and where would be the fun in that?"

"You're a meanie," she said, but she couldn't keep the laughter from spilling into her voice.

"I know."

He kissed her lightly, teasingly, but when Crissy rose up on tiptoe to kiss him again, he laughed and shook his head, straightening up so she couldn't reach him.

"As long as your sister is around," he said, "that's all you're gonna get, sweetheart. Don't want to incur the wrathful vengeance of your sister."

Crissy stared at him, silent, a soft smile on her lips, until Quinn started to look slightly panicked.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do this time?"

"You called me sweetheart," she said.

"...yes?"

"I like it when you call me that."

Quinn raised his eyebrows, equal parts hopeful and relieved. "You...do?"

Crissy laughed and tugged on the lapel of his jacket in an attempt to pull him down to her level but he wasn't budging.

"Yes, I do. Now get down here already. I can't kiss you when you're all the way up there."

"Your sister..."

"Don't worry about her."

"Yeah, that's kind of impossible," he whispered, eyes wide with mock terror.

"Please tell me you're not going to make me wait an entire week."

Quinn narrowed his eyes, thinking about it. "You've got a point there," he said.

He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, until he was peppering her entire face with kisses and she couldn't stop laughing. He placed a hand on her stomach and pushed her back despite Crissy's attempts to keep him close.

"Okay, I should...go," he said.

Crissy caught his hands and pulled him back easily, kissing him over and over despite the cold. He pushed her away again and held her firmly at arm's length this time.

"It feels like your sister is going to come charging around the corner any second," he said.

"She won't," Crissy replied. But a part of her felt the same way, she simply didn't want to admit it, didn't want to run Quinn off because of her sister.

Quinn eyed her. "You don't believe that."

"Fine, no, I don't believe that. You should go. But I don't want you to."

He smiled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers along the curve of her neck until goosebumps shivered over her skin, and not from the cold wind biting through her coat.

"Next weekend," he said. "If your sister is still here, I'm being selfish and stealing you away. Just so you know."

Crissy beamed up at him. "I'll hold you to that."

Quinn studied her, his gaze roaming over her face before he smiled again and shook his head as he stole one final kiss, lingering for a moment as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Get some rest, sweetheart," he whispered.

Then he tore himself away and Crissy watched him walk down the sidewalk, coat collar turned up against the wind and a fresh lazy drifting snowfall.