On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (3 page)

“Oh.” Not only was Thom Sutton gorgeous, he was successful, too. “I suppose he's engaged to someone stunningly beautiful.” That was to be expected.

“I hear—again from Jon—that he dates quite a bit, but there's no one serious.”

Noelle shouldn't be pleased, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to examine that reaction too closely.

“I want to know what happened,” Carley demanded, rising to her knees. “I'm not a kid anymore. Tell me!”

“He was Noelle's high school sweetheart,” Kirsten explained.

“The guy who left you at the altar?”

“Who told you that?” Noelle asked, although the answer was obvious. “And he didn't leave me at the altar.”
Just being accurate
, she told herself.
I'm not defending him
.

“Mom told me 'cause she wants me to keep away from those Suttons. When I asked her why, she said you learned your lesson the hard way. She said a Sutton broke your heart and jilted you.”

“There's more to it than that,” Kristen told her.

“I want to know
everything
,” Carley pleaded. “How can I hate them if I don't know what they did that was so awful?”

“You shouldn't hate anyone.”

“I don't, not really, but if our family doesn't like their family, then I should know why.”

“It's a long story.”

Carley sat back on her heels. “That's what Mom said.”

“God help me,” Kristen murmured, covering her eyes with one hand. “Don't tell me I already sound like Mom. I didn't think this would happen until I turned thirty.”

Noelle laughed, although she wasn't sure how funny it was, since she herself was only days from her twenty-ninth birthday.

“Did you love him terribly?” Carley asked with a faraway look in her eyes.

Noelle wasn't sure how to respond. She felt a distant and remembered pain but refused to let it take hold. “I thought I did.”

“It was wildly romantic,” Kristen added. “They were madly in love, but then they had a falling-out—”

“That's one way to put it,” Noelle said, interrupting her sister. Thom had apparently fallen out of love with her. He'd certainly fallen out of their plans to elope.

“This is all so sad,” Carley said with an exaggerated sigh.

“Our parents not getting along is what started this in the first place.”

“At least you and Thom didn't kill yourselves, like Romeo and Juliet—”

“No.” Noelle shook her head. “I've always been the sane, sensible sister. Remember?” But even as she spoke, she recognized her words for the lie they were. Staying away for ten years was a pretty extreme and hardly “sensible” reaction. Even she knew that. The fact was, though, something that had begun as a protest had simply become habit.

“Oh, sure,” Kristen teased. “Very sensible. You work too hard, you don't date nearly enough and you avoid Rose as though we've got an epidemic of the plague.”

“Guilty, guilty, not guilty.” She wasn't
purposely
avoiding Rose, she told herself, at least not anymore and not to the extent that Kristen implied. Noelle's job was demanding and it was difficult to take off four or five days in a row.

“I've never met Thom, and already I don't like him,” Carley announced. “Anyone who broke your heart is a dweeb. Besides, if he married you the way he said he would, you'd be living in Rose now and I could see you anytime I wanted.”

“Well put, little sister,” Kristen said. She shrugged off her coat, then joined Carley at the foot of the bed.

Noelle smiled at her two sisters and realized with a pang how much she missed them. Back in Texas it was all too easy to let work consume her life—to relegate these important relationships to fifteen-minute conversations on the phone.

“Look,” Kristen said and stretched out her arm so Noelle could see her engagement ring. It was a solitaire diamond, virtually flawless, in a classic setting. A perfect choice for Kristen. “Jon and I shopped for weeks. He wanted the highest-quality stone for the best price.” Her eyes softened as she studied the ring.

“It's beautiful,” Noelle whispered, overcome for a moment by the sheer joy she saw in her sister's face.

“You'll be my maid of honor, won't you?”

“As long as I don't have to wear a dress the color of Pepto-Bismol.”

“You're safe on that account.”

“If you ask me to be the flower girl, I think I'll scream,” Carley muttered. “Why won't anyone believe me when I tell them I'm not a little kid anymore? I'm almost fourteen!”

“Not for ten months,” Noelle reminded her.

“But, I'm
going
to be fourteen.”

Kristen brushed the hair away from Carley's face. “Actually, I intended to ask you to be a bridesmaid.”

“You did?” Carley shrieked with happiness. “Well, then, I'll tell you what I overheard Mom tell Dad.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she detailed a conversation between their parents regarding Christmas baskets.

“Mom's meeting with
Mrs. Sutton
tomorrow morning?” Noelle repeated incredulously.

“That's what she said. She didn't sound happy about it, either.”

“I'll just bet she didn't.”

“This should be interesting,” Kristen murmured.

Yes, it should
, Noelle silently agreed.
It should be very interesting, indeed
.

December 19
(2:00 a.m.)

So I saw him before I even got back to town. Of all the flights I could've taken…

Seeing Thom after all these years was probably the most humbling experience of my life, except for the last time I was with him. Correction. Wasn't with him. Why did this have to happen to me? Or did I bring it on myself because of my obsession over seeing him again?

Okay, the thing to do is look at the positive aspect of this. It's over. I saw him, it was worse than I could have imagined, but now I don't need to worry about it anymore. Thom made it clear that he wasn't any happier to see me than I was about running into him. At least the feeling's mutual. Although I'm kind of confused by that, since I'm the offended one. He jilted me. Unfortunately, after this latest run-in, he doesn't have any reason to regret that. I behaved like an idiot.

On a brighter note—and I'm always looking for brighter notes!—it's good to be home. I shouldn't have stayed away for ten years. That was foolish and I'm sorry about it. I walked all through the house, stopping in each room. After a while, I got all teary as I
looked around. Nothing's really changed and yet everything's different. I didn't realize how much I've missed my home. Mom's got the house all decorated for Christmas, including those funny-looking cotton-ball snowmen I made at camp a thousand years ago. When I commented on that, she told me it was tradition. She puts them out every Christmas. She got all choked up and I did, too. We hugged, and I promised I'd never stay away this long again. And I won't.

Carley Sue (she hates it when I use her middle name) is so much fun. Seeing her here, in her own space (even if it is my old room), is like discovering an entirely different side of her. She's freer, more relaxed, and so eager to share the camaraderie between me and Kristen.

Speaking of Kristen—she's on cloud nine. We sat up and talked for hours, and she told me all about meeting and falling in love with Jonathan. I'd heard it before, but the story felt brand-new as I listened to her tell it in person. It's so romantic, meeting her future husband in a flower shop when he's there to pick up a dozen red roses for another woman. I give him credit, though; Jonathan knew a real flower when he saw one. It was Kristen who walked out with those roses.

Carley warned me that Mom's going to be looking for company when she has to meet Mrs. Sutton in the morning. We've already thwarted her. We sisters have our ways….

S
arah would have preferred a root canal to meeting with Mary Sutton. A root canal without anaesthetic.

Her husband lingered over his morning coffee before leaving for the hospital. “You're really stressed about this, aren't you?”

“Yes!” Sarah wasn't afraid to admit it. “The last time I spoke to Mary was the day she wrote that dreadful article about me in her column.”

“You think that article was only about you,” Jake said. “But it could've been about any real estate agent. Maybe even a bunch of different ones.” His voice drifted off.

Sarah didn't understand why her husband was arguing when they both knew the entire dreadful piece titled,
The Nightmare Real Estate Agent
, was directed solely at
her
. Although she hadn't committed any of sins Mary had described, she'd been guilty of the one crime Mary hadn't mentioned. Never once had she misrepresented a
home or hidden a defect. Nor had she ever low-balled a client. But Sarah had borrowed something she couldn't return.

“Was that
before
or
after
you planted the
OPEN HOUSE
sign in her front yard?” Jake asked.

“Before, and she deserved it.”

Her husband chuckled. “Go on, meet with her and don't for a moment let her know you're upset.”

“You sound like a commercial for deodorant.”

“Yes, dear.” He kissed her cheek and headed out the door to work.

Tightening the belt of her housecoat, Sarah gazed out the front window as he drove away.
Meet with her
…Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one coming face-to-face with Mary after all these years.

Yawning, Noelle wandered into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Sarah's spirits lifted immediately. It was so good to have her daughter home—and even better that she'd arrived at such an opportune moment. Noelle could act as a buffer between her and that demented newspaper writer who'd once been her friend. True, there was the business with the Sutton boy, but if nothing else, that unfortunate bit of history would distract them all from this current awkwardness. She felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of involving her daughter. Still, she needed reinforcements, and surely Noelle was long over her infatuation with Thom.

“Good morning, dear,” Sarah said, mustering a cheerful greeting. “I was wondering if you'd like to come with me this morning.” Try as she might, she couldn't keep the plea out of her voice.

Her daughter leaned against the kitchen counter, holding the mug with both hands. “I promised to take Carley shopping and to the movies.”

“Oh. That won't be until later, will it?”

“Mom,” Noelle said, sighing loudly. “I'm
not
going to let you use me as a buffer when you meet Mrs. Sutton.”

“Who told you I was meeting…” She didn't bother to finish the question, since the answer was obvious. Jake! Dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink, she reluctantly went to her room to dress. She'd be entering the lion's den alone, so she wanted to look her best.

“I don't think she's nearly the monster you make her out to be,” Noelle called after her.

That her own daughter, her oldest child—the very one who'd been jilted by Thom Sutton—could say such a thing was beyond Sarah. As far as she was concerned, there was too much forgiveness going on here. And if Noelle thought Mary was so wonderful, then she should be willing to come along.

Didn't Noelle grasp the unpleasantness of this situation? Clearly not. Even Jake didn't take it seriously. He seemed to think this was some kind of joke! Well, she, for one, wasn't laughing.

Despite her bad feelings about the meeting with Mary Sutton, Sarah arrived at the Women's Century Club twenty minutes early. This was the way she'd planned it. As she recalled, Mary possessed a number of irritating habits, one of which was an inability to ever show up on time. Therefore, Sarah considered it advantageous to be early, as though that would highlight Mary's lack of responsibility and basic courtesy.

“Good morning, Melody,” she said as she stepped briskly into the entry.

“Morning,” came Melody's reply. The phone rang just then, and she reached for it, still standing in front of the copy machine.

While she waited, Sarah checked her appearance in the lobby rest room. She'd taken an inordinate amount of time
with her makeup that morning. Her hair was impeccably styled, if she did say so herself, and her clothes looked both businesslike and feminine. Choosing the right outfit was of the utmost importance; in the end, after three complete changes, she'd chosen navy-blue wool slacks, a white cashmere sweater and a silk scarf with a pattern of holly and red berries.

Melody finished with the phone. “Sorry, it's crazy around here this morning. Everyone's getting ready for the dance.”

Of course. In her dread, she'd nearly forgotten about the annual dance.

The door opened, and with a dramatic flair—all swirling scarves and large gestures—Mary Sutton entered the building. Did the woman think she was on stage, for heaven's sake? “Hello Melody,” she said, her voice light and breezy. Then—as if she'd only now noticed Sarah—she turned in her direction, frowned slightly and then acknowledged her with a curt nod.

“Good to see you, too,” Sarah muttered.

“I'm here for the list. The Christmas basket list,” Mary said, walking over to the half wall behind which Melody stood.

“That's why I'm here,” Sarah said and forced herself into the space between Mary and the wall.

The two jockeyed for position, elbowing each other until Melody stared at them aghast. “What's
wrong
with you two?” she asked.

“As I explained earlier, we have a
history
,” Sarah said, as though that should account for everything.

“A very long and
difficult
history,” Mary added.

“You'll have to work together on this.” Melody frowned at them both. “I'd hate to see these needy families deprived because you two can't get along.” The phone rang again and Melody scooped up the receiver.

“You're impossible to work with,” Mary said, practically shoving Sarah aside.

“I won't stand here and be insulted by the likes of you,” Sarah insisted. Talk about impossible!

“This isn't going to work.”

“You're telling me!” She was ready to walk out the door. But then she realized that was exactly what Mary wanted her to do. She'd been provoking Sarah from the moment she'd made that stagy entrance. This was a low, underhanded attempt to prevent her from holding Kristen's wedding reception at the club. Somehow Mary had found out about the wedding and hoped to thwart the McDowells' plans. That had to be it. But Sarah refused to let a Sutton—especially
this
Sutton—manipulate her.

“There are ways of doing what needs to be done without tripping over each other's feet,” Sarah murmured, trying to sound conciliatory. She could only hope that Kristen truly appreciated the sacrifice she was making on her behalf. If it wasn't for the wedding, she wouldn't be caught dead working on a project with Mary Sutton, charity or not!

“What do you mean?”

“There
must
be a way.” She personally didn't have any ideas, but perhaps the club secretary could think of something. “Melody?”

Another line rang, and Melody put the first caller on hold in order to answer the second. She placed her palm over the mouthpiece and said, “Why don't you two go talk this out in the lobby?” She waved them impatiently away. “I'll be with you as soon as I can.”

Sarah took a few steps back, unwilling to voluntarily give up hard-won territory. This was more of a problem than she'd expected. For her part, she was willing to make the best of it, but she could already tell that Mary had her own agenda.

“The Christmas decorations are lovely this year, aren't they?” Sarah said, making an effort to start again. After all, she was stuck with the woman.

“Yes,” came Mary's stilted reply. “I'm the chair of the decorating committee.”

“Oh.” She studied the staircase again and noticed a number of flaws apparent on closer inspection. Walking to the bottom step, she straightened a bow.

“Leave my bows alone!”

“A little possessive, are we?” Sarah murmured.

“You would be, too, if you'd spent twenty minutes making each of those velvet bows.”

“I could have done it in ten.”

“Next year, I'll let you.” Then, as if she was bored with the subject, Mary said, “I understand Noelle's in town.”

“Yes, and I'd appreciate if you'd keep your son away from her.”

“My son!” Mary cried. “You don't need to worry about
that
. Thom learned his lesson as far as your daughter's concerned a long time ago.”

“On the contrary, I believe your son broke my daughter's heart.”

“Ladies!” Melody came out from behind the counter, shaking her head. “I thought we were discussing ways you two can work together to fill those Christmas baskets.”

“I don't think I
can
work with her,” Mary said, crossing her arms. She presented Sarah with a view of her back.

“Then divide the list,” Melody suggested. “One of you can shop for the gifts and the other can buy the groceries. Arrange a day to meet and assemble the baskets, and then you'll be done with it.”

Sarah didn't know why she hadn't thought of that earlier. It made perfect sense and would allow them to maintain a healthy distance from each other.

“Divide the list,” Mary instructed with a dramatic wave of her hand.

“By all means, divide the list,” Sarah said and mimicked Mary's gesture.

“All right,” Melody said. She went back to her office, with the two women following, and slipped the list into the photocopier. The phone rang again, and she answered it, holding the receiver between her shoulder and ear. Melody retrieved the original and the copy, reached for the scissors and cut both lists in two. Still talking, she dropped the papers, then picked them up and handed half of the original list to Mary and half to Sarah. The copies of each woman's list went into a file on her desk.

Sarah glanced over her list and tucked it inside her purse. “When do you suggest we meet to assemble the baskets?”

“The twenty-third before noon. That way, we'll be able to drop them off at the Salvation Army in plenty of time. They'll distribute the baskets on Christmas Eve.”

“Fine.” That settled, Sarah charged out the door without a backward glance. This wasn't the best solution, but it was manageable. She'd do her share of the work, and she wasn't about to let anyone suggest otherwise.

 

“This is so cool,” Carley said as they left the mall late Thursday afternoon, their arms loaded with bags and packages. Noelle smiled fondly at her youngest sister. That summer, Carley had spent two weeks with her in Texas while their parents were on a cruise. She'd matured noticeably in the six months since then.

“Mom's not selling much real estate anymore,” her sister told her as they climbed into the car. “I think she's bored with it, but she won't admit it.”

“Really?”

“She's totally involved in Kristen's wedding. It's all she
thinks about. She's read a whole bunch of books and magazine articles and has everything set in her mind. Just the other day, she said that what this town really needs is a wedding planner.”

“And you think Mom would enjoy that?”

“Are you kidding?” Carley said. “She'd
love
it.”

Their mother was extremely sociable, which was one of the reasons she was such a successful real estate agent, Noelle mused. Sarah knew nearly everyone in town and had wonderful connections. Perhaps Carley was right.

“The Admiral really hasn't changed,” Noelle murmured. She'd spent a lot of time at the old downtown theater, back in high school. It was there, in the balcony, that Thom had first kissed her. To this day—as much as she wanted to forget it—she remembered the thrill of that kiss.

The Admiral was a classic theater built sixty years earlier. The screen was huge and the second-floor balcony held the plush loge seats—always Noelle's favorite place to sit.

They purchased the tickets, a large bucket of popcorn and drinks.

“Do you want to go up to the balcony?” Carley asked.

“Where else would we sit?” Noelle was already halfway up the winding stair that led to the second floor. She went straight to the front row and plopped down on a cushioned seat. Carley plopped down beside her. The main feature was a Christmas release, an animated film starring the voices of Billy Crystal and Nathan Lane.