On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (9 page)

“Ladies, I don't think there's any reason to squabble here.” Janice raised both hands in a calming gesture. “Let me look at your lists.”

“Fine,” Sarah snapped.

“Good idea,” Mary added in a far more congenial tone. She opened her purse and dug out the list Melody Darrington had given her.

Janice examined both pages. She ran down Sarah's first and then Mary's. She frowned. “Here's the problem,” she said, handing them back. “You have the same list.”

“That's impossible,” Mary protested.

“Let me see.” Sarah snatched Mary's from her hand with such speed it was a wonder Mary didn't suffer a paper cut.

“That's what I think happened,” Janice said. “You were accidentally given one list instead of two.”

Sarah glanced over each page. “She's right.”

Mary wanted to weep with frustration. “Do you mean to say we're actually working from the same list?” It made sense now that she thought about it. Melody had been so busy that morning. and the phone was ringing off the hook. It was no wonder the secretary had been distracted.

“You were supposed to pick up the grocery items,” Mary said.

“I most certainly was not. That was
your
job.”

If Sarah was trying to be obtuse and irritating, she was succeeding.

Janice glanced from one to the other. “Ladies, this is for the Christmas baskets, remember?”

Mary smiled benevolently at the pastor's wife, who was new to the area. Janice couldn't know. But then, a twenty-year-old feud wasn't something Mary was inclined to brag about.

“She's right,” Sarah said again. “We're both behaving a bit childishly, don't you think?”

Mary was staying away from that question.

“I'll call Melody in the morning and pick up the second half of the list.”

“No, you won't,” Mary told her. “I'll do it.”

“I said I would,” Sarah said from between clenched teeth.

“You don't need to, I will.”

“Would you ladies prefer that I do it?” Janice volunteered.

“No way,” Sarah muttered.

“Thank you, but no,” Mary said more politely.

Janice looked doubtful. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” Sarah's voice blended with Mary's.

“All right, ladies, I'll leave you to your good works then.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary watched Janice stroll away.

As soon as the pastor's wife was out of earshot, Sarah said, “You can pick up the list if you want.” She made it sound as though she was making a big concession.

Naturally, she'd agree now. Mary sighed; this problem with the list complicated everything. “I'll need time to shop for the groceries.”

“And your point is?”

“Shouldn't it be obvious?” Clearly it wasn't. “We'll need to meet on the morning of the twenty-fourth now.”

“Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, the twenty-fourth is generally known as Christmas Eve,” Mary told her a bit sarcastically.

“Fine. Let's meet at the club at nine and deliver the baskets to the Salvation Army from there.”

“Fine.”

“In the meantime,” Sarah suggested, “let's do the sensible thing and divide up the toys on this list. Why don't I get the girls' stuff and you get the boys'?”

Wordlessly, they each returned half of their purchases. Mary hated to follow Sarah's lead, but for once the woman had come up with a reasonable idea. “I'll see you Tuesday morning at nine,” she finally said.

Sarah gave a curt nod.

Mary wheeled her cart to the front of the store. All the cashiers were busy, so she found the shortest line and waited her turn. Not until a few moments later did she notice that Sarah stood in the line beside hers.

Mary took a magazine from the stand, leafed through it and tossed it into her cart.

Sarah placed two magazines in hers.

Mary decided to splurge and buy a candy bar. As she put it in the cart, she glanced at Sarah. The other woman grabbed one of every candy bar on the rack. Refusing to be outdone, Mary reached for two.

Sarah rolled her eyes and then emptied the entire container of candy into her cart.

Mary looked over and saw two men staring at them. A woman was whispering to her companion, pointing in her and Sarah's direction.

Once again, they'd managed to make spectacles of themselves.

December 22

I just got back from church, and it was lovely to attend services with Mom and Dad and Carley. The music was stirring and brought back so many memories of Christmases spent in Rose. I wish I'd paid closer attention to the sermon, but my mind refused to remain focused on the pastor's message. All I could think about was Thom.

Now that we've talked, I think we've actually created more problems than we've solved. We're going to get together again later in the day, but that's not until one. We both realize we can't leave things as they are, yet neither one of us knows where to go from here.

Still, it's wonderful to know my faith in him was justified. That makes this decision even harder, though. I'm afraid I'm falling in love with him again—if I ever stopped!—but there are so many complications. In fact, I wonder if our best choice would be simply to call it quits. But I'm not sure we can, because we made a mistake last night. We kissed.

If we hadn't done that, I might've found the courage to shake Thom's hand, claim there were no hard feelings and walk away. But we did kiss and now…well, now we're in a quandary. I wish his kisses didn't affect me, but they do. Big time. Oh boy, nothing's
changed in that department. It's as if I was sixteen all over again, and frankly, that's a scary feeling.

I felt Thom's kisses all the way through me, from head to toe. Thom felt them, too, and I think he's just as confused as I am. Things got intense very quickly, and we both recognized we had to stop. Now it's decision time.

Thom withdrew from me, physically and emotionally, and I did from him, too. We both tried to play it cool—as if this was all very nice and it was good to clear the air. He acted as if we should just get on with our lives. I played along and was halfway back to the car when he stopped me. He wanted to know if we could meet at the mall today to talk again.

God help me, I jumped at the invitation. Maybe I should've been more nonchalant, but I couldn't do it. I was just happy for the chance to see him again.

S
hopping was the perfect excuse to get out of the house on Sunday afternoon, and Noelle used it. Her mother was gone, her father was absorbed in some televised football game and Carley was in her room checking “Buffy” Web sites on her computer.

“I'm going out for a while,” Noelle said casually.

Her father's eyes didn't waver from the television screen. “Are you meeting Thom?”

“Ah…”

Her father raised his hand. “Say no more. What do you want me to tell your mother if she asks?”

“That I've gone shopping…We're meeting at the mall.”

“That's all she needs to know.”

Noelle kissed her father on the cheek. His eyes didn't leave the screen as he reached inside his pants pocket and handed her his car keys. “Why don't you take my car again?”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don't mention it.” Then her father did look away from the television and his gaze sought hers. “You have feelings for this young man?”

Noelle nodded. It was the truth, much as she hated to acknowledge it, even to herself.

Her father nodded, too. “I was afraid of that.”

His words lingered in Noelle's mind as she drove to the Rose Mall on the west side of town. She'd lived for this moment ever since she and Thom had parted the night before. They'd resolved what both had considered a deception, but so many questions were still unanswered. They needed time to think, to consider the consequences of becoming involved a second time. Nothing had changed between their families—or more specifically, their mothers—but other things
were
different. Noelle wasn't the naive eighteen-year-old she'd been ten years ago; neither was Thom.

It took a good twenty minutes to find a parking space, and the mall was equally crowded. Carolers dressed in Victorian costumes stood in front of the JCPenney store, cheerfully singing “Silver Bells.” Noelle wished she could listen for a while, but fearing she might be late, she paused only a moment to take in the sights and the sounds of the holiday season.

She hurried through the overheated mall and found Thom at a table in the food court, just the way they'd agreed. He stood as she approached.

“I haven't kept you waiting, have I?” she asked.

“No, no. It occurred to me that with Christmas this close we might have trouble finding a table so I grabbed one early.”

He'd always been thoughtful. As he put down his coffee and pulled out her chair, she shrugged out of her coat and threw it on the back of the seat. “Would you like to get some lunch?”

She shook her head. “You should have something, though.” Her stomach had been upset all morning.

“Are you ill?”

“No—it's guilt.” He might as well know. She'd been anxious since last night, since their first moonlit kiss…All through church services and afterward, she'd repeatedly told herself how ridiculous it was to sneak around behind her mother's back. Her father had apparently been doing it for years, but secretive actions truly bothered Noelle.

“Guilt?”

“I don't like being dishonest.”

“Then tell your mother.” Thom made it sound so easy, but he didn't need an excuse every time he stepped out the front door. He didn't even live at home, and he wasn't visiting his family for Christmas the way she was. He wasn't accountable to his parents for every minute spent outside their presence.

“Did you let your parents know we were meeting?” she asked.

He half-grinned, looking sheepish. “No.”

“That's what I thought.”

“How about coffee?” he asked in an all-too-obvious effort to change the subject. “I could use a refill.”

She gave a quick nod. She'd been counting the minutes until they could talk again. After their meeting in the park, she'd barely slept. She'd relived their conversation—and their kisses—over and over. It seemed a miracle that they'd finally learned what must have happened that day ten years ago. Truly a Christmas miracle. Now, if only their mothers would miraculously reconcile…

Thom left and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee.

Noelle held her cup with both hands, letting the heat
warm her palms. She hadn't felt chilled before, but she did now. “I—I don't know where to start.”

“Why didn't you ever come home?” he asked bluntly. “Start by telling me that.”

“It was just too painful to come back here. I made excuses at first and it got easier after a while. Plus, Mom and Dad and my sisters were always willing to visit Texas. It's beautiful in a way that's completely different from the Northwest. Oh, and the shopping is excellent.”

He laughed. “Is there anyone special in your life?”

“I have a number of good friends.”

“Male or female?”

She hesitated. “Female.”

Thom visibly relaxed. “You don't date much, then?”

“Of course I date—I've gone out lots. Well, maybe not as much as I'd like, but I
was
engaged for a while. How about you?”

“I came close to getting engaged. Twice.”

Without knowing a single detail, Noelle was instantly jealous. “Who?”

He seemed pleased by her reaction. He leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “No one you know. Besides, I'm the one asking the questions here. You can drill me later.”

“No way! In other words, you became some kind of ladies' man after you dumped me?”

His face suddenly grew serious and he reached across the table for her hand. “I didn't dump you, Noelle.”

She'd meant to tease him but realized her remark was insensitive—not to mention plain wrong. “I know. I apologize. Chalk it up to a bad choice of words.”

Thom squeezed her hand. “Do you think that's what happened with our mothers?” he asked. “A bad choice of words?”

“How do you mean?”

“Think about it. Just now, you reverted to your old thought pattern—your assumption that you'd been betrayed. It wasn't until after you spoke that you remembered what had really happened.”

He was right. The words had slipped out easily, thoughtlessly.

“Our mothers are probably behaving in the same way. After all these years, they're caught in this pattern of disparaging each other, and they can't break the habit.”

Noelle wasn't sure she agreed with him. For one thing, she knew her mother had desperately tried to end the feud. Every attempt had been rebuffed. “I don't think it's a good idea to discuss our mothers.”

“Why not?”

“Because we argue. You want to defend your mother and I want to defend mine, and the two of us end up fighting. Besides, weren't we talking about the women in your life after I left Rose?”

He chuckled. “You make it sound like there were hordes of them.”

“There weren't?” She pretended to be shocked.

He shook his head. “Not really. Two I considered marrying and a few others I saw for a while. What about you?”

“You keep asking. All right, I was serious once. Paul was a computer programmer, and we both worked for the same company, developing new software. It was an exciting time in the business and we got caught up in the thrill of it all.” Paul was actually very sweet and very brilliant, but their romance wasn't meant to be. Noelle had been the first to realize it. She'd ended their brief engagement, and they'd parted on good terms, remaining friends to this day. “After the launch of Curtains, our new operating system,
well…it was curtains for our marriage plans, too,” she said, smiling at her own feeble pun.

“Just one guy?” Thom asked.

“Don't sound so disappointed.” Noelle had told him far more than necessary. He hadn't said a word about either of the women he'd loved.

“Listen, what I said earlier regarding our mothers—I wonder if—”

“I don't want to discuss our mothers, Thom.”

“We can't avoid it forever.”

“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but does it have to be the first thing we talk about?”

“It's not,” he argued.

“Look at us,” she said. “I haven't been with you fifteen minutes and already we're both on the defensive. This isn't going to work.” She was ready to give up and go home, but Thom stopped her.

“Okay, we'll leave our mothers out of the conversation.”

Now it seemed neither one had anything to say.

“I kept waiting to hear that you were married,” she said after a silence. “But I refused to ask. That's silly I suppose.” It was like waiting for the dentist's drill; when it happened there'd be pain and she hadn't been in a hurry to experience it.

“I assumed you'd get married first,” he said.

Noelle grinned, shaking her head. “There's something else we need to talk about,” she murmured. “What are we going to do now?” She began with the least palatable option—which was also the easiest. “I mean, we could shake hands and say it's great to have this cleared up, then just go back to our respective lives.” She waited, watching for a response from him.

His face revealed none of his thoughts. “We could do that,” he said. “Or…” He looked at her.

“Or we could renew our friendship.”

Thom leaned back in his chair. “I like that option.”

So did Noelle. “But, as you said, there's still the situation with our mothers.” Now she was the one bringing it up, although she'd hoped to avoid any mention of their mothers' feud. It was futile, she realized. They
couldn't
avoid it, no matter how hard they tried.

“If your mother hadn't borrowed my great-grandmother's tea service,” Thom began, “she—”

“My mother?” Noelle cried. “I agree she made a mistake, but she was the first to admit it. Your mother refused to forgive her, and that says a lot about the kind of person she is.”

Thom's eyes were flinty with anger. “Don't paint
your
mother as the one who was wronged because—”

Noelle was unwilling to listen to any more. “Listen, Thom, this isn't going to solve anything. I think it'd be best if we dropped the subject entirely.”

“That isn't the only thing you want to drop, is it?”

It was a question she didn't want to answer. A question that implied it would be best for all concerned if they simply walked away from each other right now. Their circumstances hadn't changed, not really; the business with their mothers would always be an obstacle between them. They could ignore it, but it would never disappear.

She stood and gathered her purse, pulled on her coat. This time Thom didn't try to stop her.

“So, you're walking away at the first sign of difficulty,” he said.

“No. As a teenager my heart was open to you and your family, but I'm older now.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” he demanded.

“This time, my eyes are open, too.”

He looked as if he wanted to continue their argument.
But she didn't have the heart for it. Obviously Thom didn't, either, because he let her go without another word.

 

“Help me carry everything in, Greg,” Mary Sutton said as she stepped into the house. Her arms were loaded with plastic bags bursting at the seams.

Mary had never understood or appreciated football, and she didn't mind saying so. Her husband's gaze reluctantly left the television screen, where a bunch of men in tight pants and large helmets chased after an oddly shaped ball. As far as she was concerned, it was ridiculous the way they grunted and called out a few numbers now and then and groped their privates right on national television.

“Greg, are you going to help me or not?”

Her husband slowly stood up, his eyes still on the TV. “Honey, it's third down and inches.”

He might as well be speaking Greek, but she wasn't going to argue with him. From the sudden reaction of the crowd, something had happened. Greg muttered, shaking his head in a disparaging manner. Mary pretended not to hear and walked back out to the car.

A moment later, he met her in the garage. “We're losing.”

“Sorry, darling.” She hoped she sounded sympathetic, but she didn't try very hard. Men and their football.

“What on earth did you buy?” he complained, lifting the last of the blue plastic bags from the car's trunk.

“Oh, various things,” she said dismissively. “This Christmas basket project hasn't been a positive experience,” she went on, following her husband into the house.

“Why not?”

Distressed and angry, she blurted out, “You won't believe this. Sarah McDowell was there!”