Venus narrowed her eyes at her husband, then turned back to Ross with a questioning look. “So, where's your gift?” she asked.
Ross frowned at her. “What do you mean, gift?”
“You know,” Venus said. “Flowers, candy, that sort of thing.” She gave a swift snort. “You're not seriously going to take her out without some token of appreciation for giving your arse a chance, now, are you?”
“It's just a walk around the village,” Ross informed her. “Maybe up to Crow's Point.”
There was a sudden chorus of hooting and whistles from around the table, and then Venus sat back from him.
“Crow's Point?” she echoed, her plucked brows rising nearly into her hairline. She snorted again. “You'd better bring her a gift, then!”
Scott nodded. “That is a well romantic spot,” he agreed.
“I know that!” Ross retorted; he'd had enough snogs on the overlook hill in his day. But a gift...?
He glanced around at the expectant expressions, then turned back to the one person who likely knew what she was talking about. “You really think I need to give her something?” he asked.
“Yes,” Venus declared; Emma was only a second behind her, equally decisive:
“Yes.”
Venus's opinion was one thing; Emma's couldn't be disputed. So Ross grinned at her, and leaned his head close to the little girl's. “What do you think I should bring her?” he asked in an exaggeratedly hushed mutter.
“Is she pretty?” Emma asked, equally hushed but not to be playful; her face was all seriousness.
Ross nodded. “She is very pretty, yes,” he told her.
“Then flowers,” Emma replied without missing a beat.
“You're training her early,” Neville remarked with a snicker from across the table, and Venus shushed him with a look.
Ross glanced away for only a second before looking into Emma's big brown honest eyes again. “What kind of flowers?” he prompted, affecting anxiety.
Emma pressed her lips to the side, then looked around toward her mother. “What kind of flowers?” she repeated.
Venus smiled and gave her a bounce, then leaned in to her ear, mock-whispering, “What about your favorites? Ross can take those.”
Emma turned back to Ross with a grin. “Poofs!” she declared.
“I think she's talking about you,” Niall said to Neville, who gave him a shove.
Venus chuckled. “No, not dandelions, sweetheart,” she told the girl. “Those pretty flowers with the long stems, and the curling petals. Do you remember what those are called?” And here Emma turned deeply ponderous (for a five-year-old), which just made Ross smile at her again. “It's Gran's name,” Venus hinted quietly, now, and Emma's round face lit up, and she clapped her hands upon her legs.
“Iris!” the girl proclaimed happily.
There was more amused laughter from the adults, but Ross took her at her word. “Irises, eh? They are quite pretty,” he agreed. “So, you think I should bring Amber some of them?”
“Yes,” Emma told him firmly.
Ross nodded. “Then that is what I shall do,” he said, wholly convinced, now.
One of the really wonderful things about writing original characters is that I never quite know who's going to grab hold of my imagination in that special way where they just pop up in a scene and then completely run off with it. But Emma has been one of those characters. Her purpose from a storytelling perspective is to show the reader that Ross isn't a bad guy, that he has potential to be a good guy, in fact. But she's just so adorable to write that I couldn't help falling in love with her a little bit.
Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. All I know is, I've had a blast writing her.
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