On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (5 page)

BOOK: On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride
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“Thank you.” Sarah could be gracious when called upon.

With her nose so high in the air she was in danger of hitting a light fixture, Mary stomped off in the opposite direction. Feeling satisfied with herself, Sarah studied the list again and noticed the name of a three-year-old boy. A small riding toy would do nicely, she decided and headed for that section of the department.

As she turned the corner she ran into Mary Sutton a third time. Mary stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowed. “Are you following me?” she demanded.

“Following
you?
” Sarah faked a short, derisive laugh. “You've got to be joking. I have no desire to be within ten feet of you.”

“Then I suggest you vacate this aisle.”

“You can't tell me where to shop or in what aisle!”

“Wanna bet?” Mary leaned forward and, intentionally or not, her cart rammed Sarah's.

Refusing to allow such an outrage to go unanswered, Sarah retaliated by banging her cart into Mary's.

Mary pulled back and hit her again, harder this time.

Soon they were throwing stuffed French poodles at each other, hurling them off the shelves. A German Shepherd sailed over Sarah's head. That was when she reached for the Golden Retriever, the largest of the stuffed animals.

“Ladies, ladies.” A man in a red jacket hurried toward them, his arms outstretched. His name badge read Michael and identified him as the store manager.

“I'm so sorry, Michael,” Sarah said, pretending to recognize him. “This little, uh, misunderstanding got completely out of hand.”

“You're telling me!” Mary yelled.

“This woman is following me.”

“Oh, puh-leeze.” Mary groaned audibly. “This woman followed
me
.”

“I don't think it's important to know who followed whom,” the manager said in a conciliatory voice. “But we need to—”

“She took the last Barbie,” Mary broke in, pointing an accusing finger at Sarah. “I got it first—the doll was
mine
. Any jury in the land would rule in my favor. But I kindly offered it to her.”

“Kindly, nothing. I had that Barbie and you know it!”

“Ladies, please…” The manager stood between them in an effort to keep them apart.

“There's only so much of this I can take,” Mary said, sounding close to tears. “I'm here—”

“It isn't important why you're here,” Sarah interrupted. She wasn't about to let Mary Sutton come off looking like the injured party. The woman had purposely rammed her cart. “She assaulted me.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“You should check the front of my cart for damage, and if there is any, I suggest that you, as manager, charge this woman,” Sarah said.

Two security officers arrived then, dressed in blue uniforms.

“Officer, officer…”

Mary turned soft and gentle. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Sarah muttered. “Is it within your power to arrest this woman?” she demanded.

“Ladies,” the manager said, trying once more, it seemed, to appeal to their better natures. “This is the season of goodwill toward men—and women. Would it be possible for you to apologize to each other and go about your business?”

Mary crossed her arms and looked away.

Sarah gestured toward the other woman as if to say Mary's action spoke for itself. “I believe you have your answer.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” the manager said. “Officers, please escort these two ladies from the store.”

“What?” Mary cried.

“I beg your pardon?” Sarah said, hands on hips. “What is this about?”

The larger of the two security guards answered. “You're being kicked out of the store.”

Sarah's mouth fell open.

The only person more shocked was Mary Sutton. “You're evicting me from Value-X?”

“You heard the manager, lady,” the second officer said. “Now, come this way.”

“Could I pay for the Barbie doll first?” Sarah asked, clutching the package to her chest. “It's for a little girl and it's all she wants for Christmas.”

“You should've thought of that before you threw the first poodle,” the manager said.

“But—”

Dramatically, he pointed toward the front doors. “Out.”

Mortified to the marrow of her bones, Sarah turned, taking her cart with her. One wheel was now loose and it squeaked and squealed. Just when she figured things couldn't get any worse, she discovered that a crowd had gathered in the aisle to witness her humiliation.

“Merry Christmas,” she said with as much bravado as she could manage.

The officer at her side raised his hand. “We're asking that everyone return to their shopping. What happened here is over.”

With her dignity intact but her pride in shreds, Sarah made her way to the parking lot, still accompanied by the officer.

She could see the “About Town” headline already.
Manager Expels Sarah McDowell From Value-X After Cat Fight
. Although technically, she supposed, it should be Dog Fight.

She had no doubt that Mary Sutton would use the power of the press to complete her embarrassment.

NOELLE McDOWELL'S JOURNAL

December 19
11:30 p.m.

I can't believe it! Even now, when it's long past time for bed, I'm wide-awake and so furious, any chance of falling asleep is impossible. I doubt if anyone could do a better job of looking like a world-class idiot. Right there in the theater, with my little sister at my side, I behaved like a juvenile.

I've worked hard to be a positive influence on Carley. I take my role as oldest sister very seriously. Then I go and pull a stunt like this. Adding insult to injury is the fact that I then had to face Thom, knowing he was completely aware of what a fool I'd made of myself.

Speaking of Thom…no, I don't want to think about him. First the airplane and now this! I'd sincerely hoped he'd be married with a passel of kids. I wanted him to be so completely out of the picture that I'd never need to think about him again. Instead—just my luck—he's single, eligible and drop-dead handsome. Life can be brutally unfair.

One good thing that came from all this is the long conversation I had with Carley after the movie. She's young and idealistic, much the same way I was at her age. We talked some more about Mom and Mrs. Sutton. It's really a very sad feud. I told her what good
friends our two families used to be. The telling brought up a lot of memories. At one time, our families did everything together.

Thom was the first boy ever to kiss me. We were both sixteen. Wow! I still remember how good it felt. I don't remember what movie was playing and I doubt Thom does, either. That kiss was really something, even though we had no idea what we were doing. There was a purity to it, an innocence. His lips stayed on mine for mere seconds, but somehow we knew. I certainly did, and I thought Thom did, too.

It's funny how much it hurts to think about the way he deceived me. I try not to dwell on it. But I can't help myself, especially now….

Chapter Three

“I
've never been so humiliated in my life!” Thom's mother sagged into the chair across from his desk as if she were experiencing a fainting spell. The back of her hand went to her forehead and she closed her eyes. “I'll never be able to look those people in the eye again,” she wailed. “Never!”

“Mother, I'm sure no one recognized you,” Thom said, hoping to calm her down before she caused a second scene by retelling the first. He hadn't really appreciated his mother's flair for drama until now. This was quite a performance, and he could only imagine the show she'd put on at the store.

“Of
course
I was recognized,” Mary insisted, springing to life. “My picture's right there by my news column each and every week. Why, I could be fired from the newspaper once the editor gets wind of this.” She swooned again and slumped back in the chair. “Where's your father, anyway? He should've known something like this was bound to happen. It seems every time I need him, he's conveniently in court.” Greg Sutton was the senior partner in a local law firm.

Thom managed to hold back a smile. As far as he was concerned, his father possessed impeccable timing. Unfortunately, that meant his mother had sought solace from him.

“I'll sue Sarah McDowell,” his mother said, as if she'd suddenly come to that decision. “Assault and besmirching my reputation and…and—”

“Mother,” Thom pleaded. He stood and leaned forward, his hands on the edge of his desk. “Take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm down.” Dragging a lawyer—most likely someone from his father's firm—into the middle of this feud would only complicate things.

“Do you believe it's remotely possible to calm down after this kind of humiliation?”

Perhaps she was right. “Why don't I take you to lunch and we can talk about it,” Thom suggested. It was the Friday before Christmas and he could spare the time.

“The Rose Garden?” His mother raised pleading eyes to him. The Rose Garden was the most elegant dining room in town.

“If you like.” It was more a “ladies who lunch” kind of place, but if that was what it took to make his mother listen to reason, then he'd go there.

“At least the day won't be completely ruined,” she mumbled, opening her purse. “Let me put on some lipstick and I'll be ready to go.” She took out her compact and gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

“What?” Thom asked.

“My hair.” Her fingers worked feverishly to repair the damage. “Why didn't you say something?”

Mainly because he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise from the moment she'd stormed into his office. At first, Thom had assumed she'd been in some kind of accident. His mother had spoken so fast it was hard to understand what she was saying—other than the fact that
she'd been kicked out of the Value-X because of Sarah McDowell.

“This must have happened when she hurled a French poodle at me.”

“Mrs. McDowell threw a dog at you?” He gazed at her in horror.

“A stuffed one,” she qualified. “It hit me on the head.” Her hand went back to her hair, which she'd more or less managed to straighten.

Thom could picture the scene—two grown women acting like five-year-olds fighting in a schoolyard. Once again, he struggled to hide his amusement. His mother had tried to give him the impression that she was an innocent victim in all this, but he strongly suspected she'd played an equal role.

“I think I might be getting a bruise on my cheek,” she said, peering closely into the small compact mirror. She lowered it and angled her face for him to get a better look.

“I don't see anything,” he told her.

“Look harder,” she said.

To appease her, he did but saw nothing. “Sorry,” he said and reached for his overcoat. “Ready for lunch?”

“I'm starving,” his mother told him. “You know how hungry I get when I'm angry.”

He didn't, and felt this was information he could live without. The Rose Garden was only a block from his office, so they decided to walk. His mother chattered the whole way, reliving the incident and her outrage all over again, embellishing it in the retelling. Thom listened politely and wondered what Noelle would think when she heard
her
mother's version of the incident. He quickly pulled himself up. He didn't want to think about Noelle; that was something his self-esteem could do without.

As he'd expected, The Rose Garden bustled with activity. Christmas was only a few days away, and shoppers tak
ing a welcome lunch break now filled the restaurant. Thom glanced about the room as they were waiting to be seated. He recognized a few associates, who acknowledged him with nods. Two women sitting by the window gave him an appreciative glance and he warmed to the attention. That was when he caught sight of another pair of women.

Noelle and her younger sister, Kristen. Wouldn't you know it? He nearly groaned aloud. He hadn't seen or heard from her in ten years and yet in the last three days she seemed to turn up every place he went.

This wasn't good. In fact, if his mother were to see them, she might very well consider it her duty to create a scene and walk out of the restaurant. Worse yet, she might find it necessary to make some loud and slanderous comment about their mother. Staring in their direction was a dead giveaway, but for the life of him, he couldn't stop. Noelle. The years had matured her beauty. He'd been in love with her as a teenager and she'd become the greatest source of pain in his life. For a long time, he'd convinced himself that he hated her. Eventually he'd realized it wasn't true. If anything, he was as strongly drawn to her now as he had been back then. More so, and he detested his own weakness. The woman had damn near destroyed him. In spite of that, he couldn't look away.

“I can seat you now,” the hostess said.

Thom hesitated.

“Thom,” his mother said, nudging him, “we can be seated now.”

“Yes, sorry.” He could only hope it wouldn't be anywhere close to Noelle.

The hostess escorted them to a table by the window. He pulled out his mother's chair, making sure her back was to Noelle and Kristen. Unfortunately, that meant
he
was facing them. Kristen had her back to him, which left him with an excellent view of Noelle. She apparently noticed him
for the first time because her fork froze halfway to her mouth. For the longest moment, she stared at him, then caught herself and averted her eyes.

“Do you see someone you know, dear?” his mother asked, scrutinizing the menu.

“Yes…no,” he corrected. He lifted the rather large menu and pretended to read over the offerings. The strategy of entertaining his mother in order to get her mind off the events of that morning was about to backfire.

In the years since Noelle, Thom had been in several relationships, two of which had grown serious. Both times he'd come close to suggesting marriage and then panicked. It was little wonder after what Noelle had done to him, but he couldn't blame her entirely.

When the moment came to make a commitment, he couldn't. He simply couldn't. And he knew why—although the reason baffled and frustrated him. He didn't love either Caroline or Brenda with the same intensity he'd loved Noelle. Perhaps it was impossible to recapture the emotional passion of that youthful episode; he didn't know. What he did know was that the feelings he'd had for other women hadn't been enough. He'd found them attractive, enjoyed their company…but he needed more than that.

He needed what he'd had with Noelle.

As he thought about the scene at the theater, he started to grin. It couldn't have worked out better had he planned it. Just thinking about her tossing popcorn at some poor, unsuspecting moviegoer's head was enough to keep him laughing for years. He'd listened in while she talked about their mothers—and about them. But the most priceless part of all was the astonished look on her face when she'd realized he was sitting right behind her and had heard every word.

“What is so amusing?” his mother asked.

“Oh, I was just thinking about something that happened recently.”

“What? Trust me, after the morning I've had, I could use a good laugh.”

Thom shook his head. “It'll lose something in the translation.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, then sighed. “I do feel better. This was an excellent idea.”

The waitress came by and his mother ordered a glass of wine. “For my nerves,” she explained to the woman. “Ordinarily I don't drink during the day, but…well, suffice it to say I've had a very difficult morning.”

“I understand,” the waitress told her in a sympathetic voice. She glanced at Thom and gave him a small coy smile.

“What a nice young woman,” his mother commented as the waitress walked off.

“I suppose so,” he said with little interest. He looked up, straight into Noelle's steady gaze.

“Perhaps now isn't the right moment to broach the subject, but both your father and I think it's time you considered settling down.”

She was right; the timing could be better. However, a little appeasement seemed in order. “I've been thinking the same thing myself,” he said, forcing himself to focus on his mother.

“Really?” Her face lit up. “Is there someone special?”

“Not yet.” Involuntarily he stared at Noelle again. As if against her will, her eyes met his and held. Then she looked away—but she quickly looked back.

Kristen turned around and glanced at him over her shoulder.

“Did you know Kristen McDowell is getting married?” his mother said.

Thom nearly choked on his glass of water. “Now that
you mention it, I remember hearing something about that.” It also explained why his mother had brought up the subject of his settling down. She didn't want Sarah McDowell to outdo her in the married children department.

“Now,” his mother said, eagerly leaning forward, “tell me about your lady friend.”

“What lady friend?”

“The one you're going to propose to.”

“Propose?” He'd only proposed to one woman, the one watching him from two tables away. “I told you already—I'm not seeing anyone.”

“You were never able to keep a secret from me, Thomas. I'm your mother.”

He stared at her blankly, not knowing how to respond. “What makes you think I've met someone?”

“It isn't
think
, Thom, I know. I told your father, too. Ask him if you don't believe me. I noticed it the day you came home from your business trip to California. It was the sparkle in your eyes.”

“California?” Thom tried to recall the trip. It had been a quick one, and strictly business. But on the return flight, he'd bumped into Noelle McDowell.

 

Noelle got home after lunch with Kristen to discover her mother sitting in the family room, stocking feet propped up on the ottoman. She leaned back against the sofa cushion and held an icepack to her forehead.

“Mom?” Noelle whispered. “Are you ill?”

“Thank goodness someone's finally home,” her mother said, lowering the bag of ice.

“What's wrong?”

“Never in all your life could you guess the kind of morning I had.” She clutched Noelle's arm as she spoke.

“What happened?”

Sarah closed her eyes. “I can't even tell you about it. I have never been more humiliated.”

“Does this have something to do with Mrs. Sutton?”

Her mother's eyes sprang open in sheer terror. “You heard about it? Who told you?”

“Ah…”

“She's going to report it in the newspaper, I just know she is. I wouldn't put it past her to use her news column to smear my good name. It was
her
fault, you know. She followed me, and then purposely rammed her cart into mine. And that was only the beginning.”

An ugly picture began to take shape in Noelle's mind. A Sutton/McDowell confrontation would explain the fierce looks Thom had sent her way during lunch. The fact that he'd showed up at The Rose Garden—with his mother in tow—was a coincidence she could have done without.

Kristen had invited her to lunch, and then after a few minutes of small talk, her sister had immediately turned to the subject that happened to be on Noelle's mind: Thom Sutton. Noelle had described the disaster at the movies the day before and reluctantly confessed her part. To her consternation, Kristen had thought the incident downright hilarious. Noelle, however, had yet to recover from the embarrassment of knowing that Thom had seen her resort to such childish behavior.

Now their mother had been involved in another confrontation with Mary Sutton. If her present state of mind was anything to go by, Sarah had come out of it badly. Judging by what Noelle had seen of Mrs. Sutton at the restaurant,
she
wasn't the least bit disturbed.

BOOK: On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride
2.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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