On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (17 page)

Mary placed her hand on Sarah's shoulder. “I do forgive you, but first you have to forgive
me
for acting so badly. You were right—I
was
jealous of Cheryl. I thought you liked her better than me.”

“Never. She's one of those people who move in and out of a person's life, but you—you're my…my soul sister. I've missed you so much.”

“We're idiots.” Mary returned the flask. “I can't accept this Scotch. If we freeze, we freeze together.”

Sarah was feeling downright toasty at the moment. The world was spinning, but that was probably because she was drunker than a skunk. The thought made her giggle.

“What's so funny?” Mary wanted to know.

“We're drunk,” she muttered. “Drunk as skunks. Drunk as skunks,” she recited in a singsong voice.

“Isn't it wonderful?”

They laughed again.

“Jake always insists I eat something when I've had too much to drink.”

“We have lots of food,” Mary said, sitting up straight.

“Yes, but most of it's half-frozen by now.”

Mary's eyes gleamed bright. “Not everything. I'm sure the families would want us to take what we need, don't you think?”

“I'm sure you're right,” Sarah said as Mary climbed over the front seat and into the back, her coat flipping over her head.

Sarah laughed so hard she nearly peed her pants.

December 24

Dear Mary and Sarah,

 

Just a note to let you know how much the Women's Century Club appreciates the effort that went into preparing these Christmas baskets. You two did a splendid job. I could see from the number of gifts filling the baskets that you went far beyond the items listed on the sheet I gave you. Both of you have been generous to a fault.

Sarah, I realize it was difficult to come into this project at the last minute, but you are to be commended for your cooperation.

Mary, you did a wonderful job making all the arrangements, and I'm confident the baskets will reach the Salvation Army in plenty of time to be distributed for the holidays.

If you're both willing to take up the task again next year, I'd be happy to recommend you for the job.

 

Sincerely,

 

Melody Darrington

J
ake McDowell glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “What time did your mother say she'd be home?”

“I don't know.” His youngest daughter was certainly a fount of information. Carley lay flat on her stomach in front of the Christmas tree, her arms outstretched as she examined a small package.

“She should be back by now, don't you think?” Jake asked, looking at the clock again.

“I suppose.”

“When will Noelle be home?”

Unconcerned, Carley shrugged.

Jake decided he wasn't going to get any answers here and tried Sarah's cell for perhaps the fiftieth time. Whenever he punched in the number, he received the same irritating message. “I'm sorry. We are unable to connect your call….”

Not knowing what else to do, he phoned his golfing partner. Greg Sutton answered on the first ring.

“I thought you were Mary,” he said, sounding as worried as Jake was.

“You haven't heard from Mary?”

“Not a word. Is Sarah back?”

“No,” Jake said. “That's why I was calling you.”

“What do you think happened?”

“No idea. I could understand if one of them was missing, but not both.”

Greg didn't say anything for a moment. “Did you phone the Women's Century Club?”

“I did. Melody said they were there and left two hours ago. She told me the ice storm's pretty bad in her area. She's going to stay put until her husband can come and get her this afternoon.”

“What did she say about Mary and Sarah?”

“Not much. Just that they got the baskets all sorted and loaded into Mary's vehicle. Melody did make some comment about Sarah and Mary being pretty hostile toward each other. According to her, they left at different times.”

“That doesn't explain why they're both missing.”

“What if one of them had an accident and the other stopped to help?” Greg suggested.

Jake hadn't considered that. “But wouldn't they have been back by now?”

“Unless they got stuck.”

“Together?”

“I wouldn't know.”

Jake laughed grimly. “If that's the case, God help us all.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“We can't leave them out there.”

“You're right,” Greg said. “But I have to tell you the idea is somewhat appealing. If they
are
stuck with each other for a while, they just might settle this mess.”

“They could murder each other, too.” Jake knew his
wife far too well. When it came to Mary Sutton, she could be downright unreasonable. “I say we go after them—together.”

Jake had no objection to that. Greg owned a large four-wheel drive truck that handled better on the ice than most vehicles. “You want to pick me up?”

“I'm on my way,” Greg said.

 

Sarah reached for another Christmas cookie. “What did you call these again?” she asked, studying the package. Unfortunately, the letters wouldn't quite come into focus.

“Pfeffernusse.”

“Try to say
that
three times when you're too drunk to stand up.”

Mary giggled and helped herself to one of the glazed ginger cookies. “They're German. One family on the list had a German-sounding name and I thought they might be familiar with these cookies.”

Sarah was touched. Tears filled her eyes. “You're so thoughtful.”

“Not really,” Mary said with a sob. “I…I was trying to outdo you.” She was weeping in earnest now. “How could I have been so silly?”

“I did the same thing.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Mary's shoulders. “I was the one who got us thrown out of Value-X.”

Mary sniffled and dried her eyes. “I'm never going to let anything come between us again.”

“I won't, either,” Sarah vowed. “I think this has been the best Christmas of my life.”

“Christmas!” Mary jerked upright. “Oh, Sarah, we've got to get these baskets to the Salvation Army!”

“But how? We can't carry all this stuff.”

“True, but we can't just sit here, either.” She looked into
the distance, in the direction of the Women's Century Club. “We're going to have to walk, after all.”

Her friend was right. They had to take matters into their own hands and work together. “We can do it.”

“We can. We'll walk to the club and send someone to get the baskets. Then we'll call Triple A. See? We have a plan. A good plan. There isn't anything we can't do if we stick together.”

Sarah felt the tears sting her eyes again. “Is there any Scotch left?”

“No,” Mary said, sounding sad. “We're going to have to make it on our own.”

Clambering out of the car, Sarah was astonished by how icy the road had become in the hour or so they'd dawdled over their comforting Scotch. Luckily, she was wearing her boots, whereas Mary wore loafers.

Her friend gave a small cry and then, arms flailing, struggled to regain her balance. “My goodness, it's slippery out here.”

“How are we going to do this?” Sarah asked. “You can't walk on this ice.”

“Sure I can,” Mary assured her, straightening with resolve. But she soon lost her balance again and grabbed hold of the car door, just managing to save herself.

“It's like you said—we'll do it together,” Sarah declared. “We have to, because I'm not leaving you behind.”

With Mary's arm around Sarah's waist and Sarah's arm about Mary's shoulder, they started walking down the center of the road. The treacherous ice slowed them down, and their progress was halting, especially since both of them were drunk and weepy with emotion.

“I wonder how long it'll take Greg to realize I'm not home,” Mary said. Her husband was in trouble as it was, leaving her a defective vehicle to drive.

“Probably a lot longer than Jake. I told him I wouldn't be more than an hour.”

“I'm sure there's some football game on TV that Greg's busy staring at. He won't notice I'm not there until Suzanne and Thom arrive for dinner.” Mary went strangely quiet.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, tightening her hold on her friend.

“Yes, but…Thom. I was thinking about Thom. He's in love with Noelle, you know.”

“Noelle's been in love with Thom since she was sixteen. It broke her heart when he dumped her.”

“Thom didn't dump her. She dumped him.”

Sarah bristled. “She did not!”

“You mean to say something else happened?”

“It must have, because I know for a fact that Noelle's always loved Thom.”

“And Thom feels the same about her.”

“We have to do something,” Sarah said. “We've got to find a way to get them back together.”

“I think they might've been secretly seeing each other,” Mary confessed.

Sarah shook her head, which made her feel slightly dizzy. “Noelle would've told me. We're this close.” She attempted to cross two fingers, but couldn't manage it. Must be because of her gloves, she decided. Yes, that was it.

“We're drunk,” Mary said. “Really and truly drunk. The cookies didn't help one bit.”

“I don't care. We're best friends again and this time it's for life.”

“For life,” Mary vowed.

“We're on a mission.”

“A mission,” Mary repeated. She paused “What's our mission again?”

Sarah had to stop and think about it. “First, we need to deliver the Christmas baskets.”

Mary slapped her hand against her forehead. “Right! How could I forget?”

“Then…”

“There's more?” Mary looked confused.

“Yes, lots more. Then we need to convince Noelle and Thom that they were meant to be together.”

“Poor Thom,” Mary said. “Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“What?”

“I left a message on his answering machine. I may not remember much right now, but I remember that. I told him I didn't think he should marry Noelle….”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, because—oh dear, Sarah, I might have ruined everything.”

“We'll deal with it as soon as we're home,” Sarah said firmly.

A car sounded from behind them. “Someone's coming,” Mary cried, her voice rising with excitement.

“We've got to hitch a ride.” Sarah whirled around and held out her thumb as prominently as she could.

“That's not going to work,” Mary insisted, thrusting out her leg. “Don't you remember that old Clark Gable movie?”

“Clark Gable got a ride by showing off his ankle?”

“No…Claudette Colbert did.”

The truck turned the corner; Sarah wasn't willing to trust in either her thumb or Mary's leg, so she raised both hands above her head and waved frantically.

“It's Greg,” Mary cried in relief.

“And Jake's with him.” Thank God. Sarah had never been happier to see her husband.

To their shock and anger, the two men drove directly past them.

“Hey!” Mary shouted after her husband. “I am in no mood for games.”

The truck stopped, and the driver and passenger doors opened at the same time. Greg climbed down and headed over to Mary, while Jake hurried toward Sarah.

“We're friends for life,” Mary told her husband, throwing her arm around Sarah again.

“You're drunk,” Greg said. “Just what have you been drinking?”

“I know exactly what I'm doing,” she answered with offended dignity.

“Do
you?
” Jake asked Sarah.

“Of course I do.”

“We're on a mission,” Mary told the two men.

Jake frowned. “What happened to the car?”

“I'll tell you all about it later,” Sarah promised, enunciating very carefully.

“What mission?” Jake asked.

Sarah exchanged an exasperated look with Mary. “Why do we have to explain everything?”

“Men,” Mary said in a low voice. “Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.”

Her friend was so wise.

 

The drive back to Rose took even longer than the trip into Portland. The roads seemed to get icier and more slippery with every mile. Keeping her eyes on the road, Noelle knew how tense Thom must be.

“Would you rather wait until after Christmas?” she asked as they neared her family's home. It might be better if they got through the holidays before making their announcement and throwing their families into chaos. Noelle hated the thought of dissension on Christmas Day.

“Wait? You mean to announce our engagement?” Thom clarified. “I don't think we should. You're going to marry me, and I want to tell the whole world. I refuse to keep this a secret simply because our mothers don't happen to get along. They'll just have to adjust.”

“But—”

“I've waited all these years for you. I'm not waiting any longer. All right?”

“All right.” Noelle was overwhelmed by contradictory emotions. Love for Thom—and love for her family. Excitement and nervousness. Happiness and guilt.

“Do you know what I like most about Christmas?” Thom asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Tell me, and then I'll tell you what I like.”

“Mom has a tradition she started when Suzanne entered high school. On Christmas Eve, she serves fresh Dungeness crab. We all love it. She has them cooked at the market because she can't bear to do it herself, then Dad brings them home. Mom's got the butter melted and the bibs ready and we sit around the table and start cracking.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious.”

“It is. Does your family have a Christmas Eve tradition?”

“Bingo.”

“Bingo?”

“Christmas Bingo. We play after the Christmas Eve service at church. The prizes aren't worth more than five dollars, but Mom's so good at getting neat stuff. I haven't been home for Christmas in years, but Mom always makes up for it by mailing me three or four little Bingo gifts.”

“My favorite carol is ‘What Child Is This,'” he said next.

“Mine's ‘Silent Night.'”

“What was your favorite gift as a kid?”

“Hmm, that's a toss-up,” she said. “There was a Christmas Barbie I adored. Another year I got a set of classic Disney videos that I watched over and over.”