On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride. Debbie Macomber
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.
“The police took down our names and—”
“The police?”
“Value-X Security, but they wear those cute blue uniforms and look just like regular policemen.”
“They took your names? What for?”
Her mother covered her face with both hands. “I can’t talk about it.”
The door off the garage opened and in walked Noelle’s father. “Dad,” she said, hoping to prepare him. “Something happened to Mom this morning.”
“Oh, Jake…” Her mother languished in her seat as though she lacked the energy to even lift her head.
“Sarah?”
“Apparently Mom and Mrs. Sutton tangled with security at the Value-X this morning.”
“We more than tangled,” her mother insisted, her voice rising, “we were…banished. The officer who escorted me out told me I won’t be allowed inside the store for three months.” She bit her lip and swallowed a loud sob. “I don’t know if I misunderstood him, but I think I might be permanently banned from all blue-light specials.”
“No!” Her father feigned outrage.
“Jake, this is serious.”
“Of course it is,” he agreed. “I take it this is Mary’s doing?”
Her mother’s fist hit the sofa arm. “I swear to you she started it!”
“You don’t need to tell me what happened,” Jake said. “I can guess.”
So could Noelle.
“From here on out, I absolutely refuse to be in the same room as that woman.” She sat straighter, jaw firm, head back. “For years I’ve had to deal with her…her malice, and I won’t put up with it anymore!”
Jake reached for Sarah’s hand and gently patted it. “You’re absolutely right—you shouldn’t.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you mean? Are you being sarcastic?”
“Of course not, dear,” he said reassuringly. “But there’s no need to rehash old history, is there?”
“No-o-o.” Noelle heard her mother’s hesitation.
“Not going to the Christmas dance will show Mary Sutton that she won’t have you to kick around anymore.”
As far as Noelle was concerned, missing the Century Club Christmas dance was far from a tragedy. The only reason she’d agreed to attend was to placate her mother. This mysterious incident at the Value-X was a blessing in disguise; it seemed her father saw it in the same light. She just hoped he hadn’t overplayed his hand with that last ringing pronouncement.
“Who said anything about not going to the dance?” her mother demanded.
“You did.” Her father turned to Noelle for agreement, which she offered with a solemn nod.
“Yes, Mom, you just said you won’t be in the same room with that woman ever again.”
“I did?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Noelle’s father said. “And I agree wholeheartedly. Missing the dance is a small price to pay if it means protecting your peace of mind.”
“We aren’t going to the dance?” Carley asked, entering the room. She looked disappointed, but then Noelle’s little sister was too young to understand what a lucky escape she’d just had.
“No,” Jake said. “We’re going to skip the dance this year, and perhaps every year from now on. We won’t let Mary Sutton hurt your mother’s feelings or her reputation again!”
“We’re going,” her mother insisted.
“But sweetheart—”
“You’re absolutely right, Jake, Mary Sutton’s done enough to me. I refuse to allow her to ruin my Christmas—and Noelle’s birthday—too. We’re going to show up at the dance and hold our heads high. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“But…” Her father cleared his throat. “What if Mary mentions the incident at the Value-X?” He lowered his voice, sounding as though that would be a horrible embarrassment to them all. Noelle had to give her father credit; he was good at this.
“She won’t say a word,” her mother said with complete confidence. “Mary wouldn’t dare bring up the subject, seeing that she was tossed out on her ear, right along with me.”
Her resolve clearly renewed, Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips. Nothing would thwart her now. “We’re attending the dance tomorrow night, and that’s all there is to it.”
Her father made a small protesting noise that echoed Noelle’s sentiments. She was stuck going to this dance when it was the very last thing she wanted.
Dressed in a floor-length pink formal that had once been worn by Kristen in high school, Noelle felt like last year’s prom queen. Her enthusiasm for this dance was on a par with filing her income tax return.
“You look positively lovely,” her mother told her as they headed out the door.
How Noelle looked had little to do with how she felt. Her father brought the car out of the garage and held open the doors for Noelle and Carley, then helped their mother into the front seat beside him.
“How did I get so lucky—escorting three beautiful women to the biggest dance of the year?”
“Clean living,” Noelle’s mother said with authority. “And a clear conscience.” Noelle didn’t know whether to laugh at that remark or shrug in bewilderment. Leaning forward in order to look out the front window, Sarah added, “I think it’s going to snow.”
Hearing “Jingle Bells” on the car radio, Noelle suspected her mother was being influenced by the words of the song.
“We’re more prone to ice storms than snow this time of year,” her father said mildly.
Noelle had forgotten about the treacherous storms, although she’d experienced a number of them during the years she’d lived in Rose. They created astonishing beauty—and terrible dangers.
“Kristen and Jonathan are meeting us at the dance, aren’t they?” Carley asked.
“That’s what she said,” Noelle answered. Carley was dressed in a full-length pale blue dress with cap sleeves and she wore matching low-heeled shoes. She looked lovely and so mature it was all Noelle could do not to cry. Her baby sister was growing up.
“Do you think she’ll be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.
“Mrs. Sutton’s probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.
Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll say one thing about Mary Sutton—she never did lack nerve.”