Читать книгу On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride - Debbie Macomber - Страница 11

“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 taking 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.

“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.”

The Century Club was festive, with Christmas music and evergreen swags and large red bows. The ballroom was on the second floor, the cloakroom, a bar and buffet on the first. Couples lingered on the wide staircase, chatting and sipping champagne.

Noelle glanced toward the upstairs, and her stomach tensed. Thom was there. She didn’t need to see him to feel his presence. Why did he have to show up everywhere she did? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?

“Kristen!” her mother called. “Yoo hoo!” Anyone might think it’d been weeks since she’d last spoken to her daughter. “Hello, Jonathan.” She hugged her soon-to-be son-in-law.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Kristen paused in front of Carley, feigning shock. “This isn’t my little sister, is it? It can’t be.”

Carley rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Of course it’s me. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Shall we go upstairs?” her mother suggested.

Noelle recognized the order disguised as a request. They were to mount the stairs on guard, as a family, in case they ran into the dreaded Mary Sutton.

Kristen cozied up to Noelle. “He’s here,” she whispered in her ear.

“I know.”

“Who told you?”

“No one.” She couldn’t explain how she’d recognized Thom’s presence. She just did. Like it or not.

The ballroom was crowded, and although this wasn’t the kind of social activity Noelle would have attended on her own, she couldn’t help getting caught up in the spirit of the evening. A six-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, the chandeliers glittered and she saw that it had indeed begun to snow; flakes drifted gently past the dark windows. On the polished dance floor, the women in their long shimmery gowns whirled around in the arms of their dashing partners. The scene reminded her of a Victorian Christmas card.

“Would you care to dance?” Jonathan asked.

Surprised, Noelle nodded. She’d only spoken once or twice to this man who was marrying her sister, and was anxious to know him better. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

Just as Noelle and Jonathan stepped onto the dance floor, Kristen’s gaze met her fiancé’s. Noelle could have sworn some unspoken message passed between them. She didn’t have time to question her sister before Jonathan loosely wrapped her in his arms.

“I assume you heard what happened at the Value-X store,” she said, searching for a subject of conversation.

“Did you have as much trouble not laughing as I did?”

“More,” Noelle confessed with a grin.

“I’ve done business with the Suttons. They’re good people.”

“This feud between our mothers is ridiculous.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kristen, who was dancing, too—her partner none other than Thom Sutton. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, especially when she noticed that Kristen was steering Thom in her direction. Noelle marveled at her sister’s courage in asking Thom to dance with her. And of course she had. Thom would never have sought Kristen out, especially for a dance in the Women’s Century Club Ballroom with both mothers present.

The two couples made their way toward the center of the polished floor. When they were side by side, Jonathan stopped.

“I believe you’re dancing with the wrong partner,” he said.

Noelle didn’t need to look over her shoulder to guess Jonathan was speaking to Thom.

“I believe you’re with the wrong woman,” Noelle heard Kristen tell her partner.

Jonathan released Noelle, and Kristen stepped out of Thom’s embrace and sailed into her fiancé’s waiting arms, leaving Thom and Noelle standing alone in the middle of the crowded dance floor.

Slowly, dread dictating every move, Noelle turned and came face-to-face with Thom. He didn’t look any happier than she felt at this sudden turn of events. “I didn’t plan this,” she said in clear, even tones.

His expression implied that he didn’t consider her comment worthy of a response.

“Are you two going to dance or are you just going to stand there and stare at each other all night?” Jonathan asked.

Thom shrugged, implying that he could do this if he had to. Reluctantly Noelle stepped into his arms. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Actually, she hadn’t expected to feel anything, certainly not this immediate deluge of emotion. He kept her at arm’s length and gazed into the distance.

To Noelle’s horror, tears filled her eyes as all the old feelings came flooding back. She was about to turn and walk off the dance floor when his fingers dug into her upper arms.

“You’re not running away from me again.”

“Me?” she cried, furious at the accusation.

“Yes, you.”

His words made no sense, she thought grimly, but said nothing. The dance would be over soon and she could leave him behind. Or try to. Kristen would answer for this.

No, she decided, she had only herself to blame. Over lunch, Noelle had confided in her sister. Kristen, being idealistic and in love, had plotted to bring Noelle and Thom back together. She didn’t understand that reconciliation wasn’t always possible.

“I’d like to ask you a question,” she said when she could tolerate the silence no longer.

“Fine.”

“Why’d you do it? Did you want revenge for your mother so badly it was worth using me to get it?”

He stopped dancing and frowned at her. “What?”

“You heard me.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice.

He continued to frown, as if he still didn’t understand the question.

“Don’t give me that injured look,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Too many years have passed for me to be taken in by that.”

“You were the one who stood me up.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a mocking laugh. “After I made an idiot of myself in front of my parents, too. That must’ve given you a real kick.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Thom, I waited in that park for two miserable hours and you didn’t show.”

Not an inch separated them now as his icy glare cut into her. Dancing couples swirled around them, but Noelle was barely conscious of anyone else. For all she knew or cared, they were alone on the dance floor.

“I waited hours for you, too.”

His lying to her now was almost more than she could stand. “I beg to differ,” she said stiffly.

“Noelle, listen to me! I was there.”

“You most certainly were not.” Then, to prove that she wasn’t going to accept a lie, no matter how convenient, she added, “You think I just waited around? I was sure something had gone wrong, sure there was some misunderstanding, so I phoned your home.”

“I wasn’t there because I was waiting for you!”

He persisted with the lie and that irritated her even more.

“You were gone, all right,” she said, spitting out the words. “You were with your buddies bowling.”

His eyes narrowed and he began to speak.

But the music stopped just then, which was all the excuse Noelle needed to get away from him. He reached for her hand and pulled her back. “We need to talk.”

“No. It happened years ago. Some things are better left alone.”

“Not this time,” he insisted, unwilling to budge.

“What do you hope to accomplish by going through all of this now? It’s too late.” They’d gain nothing more than the pain of opening old wounds. Any discussion was futile. It’d been a mistake to let herself get drawn into this silly drama—just one very big mistake.

“I’m not hoping to accomplish one damn thing,” he told her coldly.

“I didn’t think so.”

Thom released her hand. “Just a minute,” he said as she turned from him.

Noelle hesitated.

“I was there. I stood there for two hours and waited. You were the one who never showed.”

“That’s not true!”

They stood glowering at each other, both refusing to give in. Noelle wasn’t going to let him lie his way out of this, though—not after what his deception had cost her.

“Hey, you two, this is Christmas,” someone called out.

The voice ended Noelle’s resolve. Whatever had happened in the past didn’t matter anymore. Certainly not after all these years.

“If you find comfort in believing a lie, then do so,” he said, “but don’t involve me.” He walked away, his face hard and impassive.

Left alone in the middle of the dance floor, Noelle stared at him in amazement. Of all the nerve! He’d stopped her from leaving and now he’d taken off!

Picking up her skirt, she raced after him. “All right! You want to talk this out, then we will.”

“When?” He continued walking, tossing the question over his shoulder.

With Christmas so close, her time was booked solid. “I…soon.”

“Tonight.”

“All right.” She swallowed hard. “When and where?”

“After the dance. In the park, same place as before.”

That seemed fitting, since it was where they were originally going to meet the day they’d planned to elope.

“What time is the dance over?”

“Midnight.” He glanced at his watch. “So make it one.”

“I’ll be there.”

He shot her a look. “That was what you said the last time.”