On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride

“What happens now?” he asked. They didn’t seem to have many options. Each had made a life without the other.

She didn’t answer him for a long time, but he knew she’d heard the question.

“Noelle,” he said as she raised her head. “What do we do now?”

She blinked back tears. “Do we have to decide this minute? Can’t you just kiss me again?”

He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. “I think that could be arranged.”

Fresh from Sunday services—where she’d been inspired by a sermon on giving—Mary Sutton drove to the local Walmart store. She refused to show up the following day and not have the items on her list. No doubt Sarah McDowell assumed she’d arrive at the club empty-handed, but Mary fully intended to prove otherwise.

As soon as Greg had settled in front of the television set watching the Seahawks’ play-off game, she was out the door. Shopping this close to Christmas went against every dictate of common sense. Usually she was the organized one. Christmas gifts had been purchased, wrapped and tucked away soon after Thanksgiving. But, with these six Christmas baskets, she had no choice. She had to resort to last-minute shopping.

The parking lot at Walmart was packed. Finding a space at the very rear of the lot, Mary trudged toward the busy store. She dreaded dealing with the mob of shoppers inside. On the off-chance she might have a repeat of that horrible scene in Value-X, she surveyed the lot—looking up one row and down the next—in search of Sarah’s vehicle. She sighed with relief when she didn’t see the other woman’s car.

List in hand, Mary grabbed a cart and headed straight for the toy section. She hoped the store would have Barbie dolls left on the shelf. She hated the thought of a single child being disappointed on Christmas morning. Fortunately, the shelves appeared to have been recently restocked.

Reaching for a Firefighter Barbie doll, she set it inside her basket. With a sense of accomplishment, she wheeled the cart around the corner to the riding toys. To her horror and dismay, she discovered Sarah McDowell reading the label on a toddler-sized car. This was her worst nightmare.

“No,” she muttered, not realizing Sarah would hear her.

Her bitterest enemy turned and their eyes locked. “What are you doing here?” Sarah demanded.

“The same thing you are.”

Sarah gripped her cart with both hands, as if she was prepared to engage in a second ramming session. Frankly, Mary had suffered all the humiliation she could stand and had no desire to go a second round.

“Can’t you buy your grandson’s gifts some other time?”

“How dare you tell me when I can or cannot shop.” Mary couldn’t believe the gall. She would shop when and where she pleased without any guidance from the likes of Sarah McDowell.

“Mary, hello.”

Mary wanted to groan out loud. Janice Newhouse, the pastor’s wife, was easing her cart toward them. “This must be Sarah McDowell. I’ve seen your photo on a real estate brochure.” She smiled warmly at the woman who had caused Mary so much pain. “I’m Janice Newhouse.”

“Hello.” Sarah’s return greeting was stiff.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Janice said, apparently oblivious to the tension between the two women.

“I’ll just bet you have.” Sarah said this as though to suggest that Mary was a gossipmonger, when nothing could be further from the truth. For years, she’d quietly refused to get drawn into any discussion involving Sarah. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. The same could not be said for Sarah McDowell. She’d taken delight in blackballing Mary’s membership in the Women’s Century Club. She’d dragged Mary’s name and reputation through the mud. Mary, on the other hand, had chosen the higher ground—with the exception, perhaps, of that newspaper column on the perfidy of real estate agents, and that certainly hadn’t been a personal attack.

“I understand the Willis family bought their home through you,” Janice said, making polite conversation.

“You know the Willises?”

“Yes, they’re members of our church. So are Mary and her husband.”

Sarah’s expression was glacial. “Oh.”

“Sarah and I are buying gifts for the charity baskets,” Mary said.

“We divided the list and now we’re each getting half,” Sarah went on to explain. “Tomorrow we’re assembling the baskets and taking them to Salvation Army headquarters.”

That was much more than Janice needed to know, Mary thought irritably. Sarah was just showing off.

“That’s wonderfully charitable of you both,” Janice murmured.

“Thank you.” Sarah added a pull toy to her basket.

Mary reached for one herself.

Next Sarah took down a board game; Mary took two.

Sarah grabbed a skateboard.

“How generous you are,” Janice commented, eyes widening as she observed their behavior. “Both of you appear to be very…zealous.”

“I believe in giving back to the community,” Mary said.

“As do I,” Sarah insisted. By now her cart was so full she couldn’t possibly cram anything else into it.

“Leave something for me to buy,” Mary challenged, doing her best to keep the smile on her face from turning into a scowl.

“I’m the one who has the little girl who wants a Firefighter Barbie on my list,” Sarah said, staring pointedly at the doll in Mary’s cart.

“I’m the one with the gift list,” Mary countered. “Besides, there are plenty of Barbie dolls.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be buying toys. That was my job.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed menacingly.

“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.

NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL

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.

Five

Shopping 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” websites 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.

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