Читать книгу On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride - Debbie Macomber - Страница 9

Sarah 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 restroom. 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 staircase 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.

“I’m not a kid anymore, but I’m glad you wanted to see this movie, too,” her sister confided.

Noelle placed the bucket of popcorn between them. “Thanks for giving me the excuse.” She leaned forward and looked at the audience below. The theater was only half-full and she wondered if she’d recognize anyone.

“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening! Thom Sutton sat almost directly below her. If that wasn’t bad enough, a blonde sat in the seat beside him and—to Noelle’s disgust—had her hands all over him.

“What?” Carley demanded.

“It’s Thom.” Heaven help her, Noelle couldn’t keep from watching. The blonde’s hand lingered at the base of his neck; she was stroking his hair with all the tenderness of a longtime lover.

“Not Thom Sutton? The son of the enemy?” Carley asked.

Noelle nodded. Sad and shocking though it was, he obviously still had the power to hurt her. No, not hurt her—infuriate her!

Carley reached for a kernel of popcorn and tossed it down.

Noelle gasped, grabbing her sister’s hand. The last thing she wanted was to call attention to the balcony. “Don’t do that!”

“Why not? He jilted you and now he’s here with another woman.” She hurled another kernel in his direction.

Noelle glanced down and saw the blonde nibbling on his earlobe. That did it. She scooped out a handful of popcorn and threw it over the balcony railing. Noelle and her sister leaned back and smothered their giggles. A few minutes later, unable to resist, Noelle looked down again.

“Oh, no,” Carley muttered under her breath as she sent a fresh shower of popcorn over the edge. She jerked back instantly.

“What?” Noelle asked.

“I think we’re in trouble. He just turned around and looked up here and I don’t think he’s pleased.”

Fine, the management could throw her out of the theater if he complained. Noelle didn’t care.

“I want to know about you and him,” Carley said. “I wasn’t even born when his mom and our mom had their big fight.”

Noelle was reluctant to describe all this old history, but she supposed her sister had a right to know. “Well, Mom had just started selling real estate and was making new friends. She claims Mary was jealous of those friends, especially one whose name was Cheryl. Cheryl had been working at the agency for a while and was kind of showing Mom the ropes. She was holding an open house and wanted something elegant to set off the dining room. Mom knew that Mary had this exquisite silver tea service—the perfect thing. But Mom also knew that if she asked Mary to lend it to Cheryl, Mrs. Sutton would turn her down. Instead, Mom asked to borrow it for herself, which was a fib.”

Carley frowned. “So that’s why Mrs. Sutton blamed Mom? Because Mom lied—I mean fibbed—and then the expensive silver tea service got stolen? Oh, I bet Mom was just sick about it.”

“She felt awful. According to Mrs. Sutton, the tea service had belonged to her grandmother and was a family heirloom. It was irreplaceable.”

“What did Mom do?”

“She called the police and offered a reward for its return, but the tea service didn’t turn up. She went to every antique store in the area, looking for something similar. Finally there was nothing more she could do. She tried to repair the damage to the friendship, but Mrs. Sutton was angry—and really, you can’t blame her. She was hurt because Mom had misled her. They got into this big argument about it and everything escalated from there. Mrs. Sutton did some petty things and Mom retaliated. Next thing you know, a grudge developed that’s gone on to this day.”

“Retaliated?” Carley asked. “How?”

“When it became clear that Mrs. Sutton wasn’t going to forgive and forget, Mom tried another tactic. She thought she’d be funny.” Noelle smiled at the memory. “Mrs. Sutton got her hair cut, and Mom sent her flowers and a sympathy card. Then Mrs. Sutton ordered pizza with double anchovies and had it delivered to Mom. You know how Mom hates anchovies—and furthermore she had to pay for it.” She shook her head. “It’s sad, isn’t it? That a good friendship should fall apart for such a silly reason.”

“Yeah,” Carley agreed. “They acted pretty childish.”

“And my relationship with Thom was one of the casualties.”

“When did you fall in love with him?” Carley wanted to know.

“We became good friends when we were kids. For a long time, our families got along really well. We often went on picnics and outings together. Thom and I were the closest in age, and we were constant companions—until the argument.”

“What happened after the argument?”

“Mrs. Sutton sent Thom and his older sister to a private school, and I didn’t see him again for about six years. He came back to public school when we were sophomores. We didn’t have a lot in common anymore and hardly had anything to do with each other until we both were assigned to the same English class in our senior year.”

“That was when you fell in love?” Carley’s voice rose wistfully.

Noelle nodded, and the familiar pain tightened her stomach. “Apparently I fell harder than Thom.”

Noelle carefully glanced down again. Talking about Thom and her romance—especially while she was sitting in this theater—brought up memories she’d prefer to forget. Why wouldn’t the stupid movie start? It was two minutes past the scheduled time.

The boy who’d rung up the popcorn order marched down the side aisle toward Noelle and Carley. He wore a bored but determined look. “There’s been a complaint from the people down below about you throwing popcorn,” he said accusingly.

Noelle could feel the heat build up in her cheeks. “I’m sorry—that was, uh, an accident.”

The kid’s expression said he’d heard it all before. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again, okay?”

“It won’t,” Noelle promised him.

“Sorry,” Carley said in a small voice as the boy left.

“It was my fault. I encouraged you.”

“But I started it.”

“You think you’re the one who invented throwing popcorn? Hey, I’ve got fifteen years on you.”

“I want to fall in love one day, too,” Carley said, leaning back in her seat, which rocked slightly.

“You will,” Noelle said, hoping her sister had better luck in that department than she’d had.

The lights dimmed then and with a grand, sweeping motion the huge velvet curtains hanging over the screen slowly parted. Soon, they were watching previews for upcoming features. Noelle absently nibbled on popcorn and let her mind wander.

Thom had changed if the blonde down below was the type of woman he found attractive. That shouldn’t surprise her, though. Time changed a lot of things in life. Some days, when she felt lonely and especially sorry for herself, she tried to imagine what would’ve happened if she had married Thom all those years ago. Getting married that young rarely worked out. They might’ve been divorced, she might’ve ended up a single mother, she might never have completed her education…. All kinds of difficult outcomes were possible. In all honesty, she told herself, it was for the best that they hadn’t run off together.

Carley slid forward and peeked over the railing. Almost immediately she flopped back. “You wouldn’t believe what they’re doing now.”

“Probably not.”

“They’re—”

Noelle gripped her sister’s elbow. “I don’t want to know.”

Carley’s eyes were huge. “You don’t want me to tell you?”

“No.”

Her sister stared at her in utter amazement. “You really don’t care?”

Noelle shook her head. That wasn’t the whole truth—or even part of it. But she didn’t want to know if Thom had his arm around the blonde or if he was kissing her—or anything else. It was a lot less painful to keep her head buried in a popcorn bucket. Forget Weight Watchers. Sometimes fat grams were the only source of comfort.

“Are you going to confront him after the movie?” Carley asked excitedly.

Noelle snickered. “Hardly.”

“Why not?”

“Just watch the movie,” she advised.

Carley settled in her seat and and began to rock back and forth. Another time, the action might have annoyed Noelle, but just then she found it oddly comforting. She wanted a special someone to put his arm around her and gently rock her. To create a private world for the two of them, the way Thom had once done in this very theater, on this very balcony. He’d kissed her here and claimed her heart. It’d been a pivotal moment in their fledgling romance. From that point onward, they knew—or at least Noelle had known. She was in love and willing to make whatever sacrifices love demanded.

All too soon, the feature had ended and the lights came back on. “That was great,” Carley announced.

Caught up in wistful memories, Noelle got to her feet, gathering her coat and purse. She took pains not to glance below, although her curiosity was almost overwhelming.

“We meet again,” an all-too-familiar voice said from behind her.

“Thom?” She turned to see him two rows back, with a four-or five-year-old boy at his side.

Noelle’s reaction was instantaneous. She looked below and discovered the blonde beauty with her male friend, who just happened not to be Thom Sutton. “I thought—”

“You’re Thom?” Carley asked, glowering with righteous indignation.

“Don’t tell me you’re Carley,” he returned, ignoring the girl’s outrage. “My goodness, you’ve grown into a regular beauty.”

Carley’s anger died a quick death. “Do you really think so?”

“I sure do. Oh, this is my nephew Cameron.”

“Hello, Cameron,” Noelle said. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but the best part was when the man came up and told you not to throw any more popcorn. Uncle Thom said you got in trouble.” The kid sounded far too smug for Noelle’s liking.

So Thom had heard and seen the whole thing.

Oh, great.

Friday morning, Sarah dressed for her Christmas basket shopping adventure. She felt as though she was suiting up for an ordeal, some test or rite of passage. The hordes of shoppers were definitely going to try her patience; she’d finished her own shopping months ago and failed to see why people waited until the very last week. Well, the sooner she purchased the things on her half of the list, the better. With Christmas only five days away, she didn’t have a minute to waste.

She wasn’t getting any help from her family—not that she’d really expected it. Jake was at work, and Noelle was driving Carley to her friend’s house and then meeting Kristen for lunch.

She was on her own.

Wanting to get the most for her buying dollar, Sarah drove to the biggest discount store in Rose. The Value-X parking lot was already filled. After driving around repeatedly, she finally found a space. She locked her car and hunched her shoulders against the wind as she hurried toward the building. The sound of the Salvation Army bell-ringer guided her to the front entrance. She paused long enough to stick a dollar bill in his bucket, then walked into the store.

Sarah grabbed a cart and used the booster seat to prop up her purse. The list was in the side pocket of her bag, and she searched for the paper as she walked. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet from the entrance when she nearly collided with another woman obtaining a cart.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I—” The words froze on her lips.

“I should’ve known anyone that rude must be you,” Mary Sutton muttered sarcastically.

Although her heart was pounding, Sarah made a relatively dignified escape and steered the cart around Mary. With purpose filling every step, she pushed her cart toward the toy department. Her list was gifts, which meant Mary had the grocery half. Hmph. It didn’t surprise her that Mary Sutton bought her family’s Christmas gifts at a discount store—or that she waited until the last minute.

The first part of the list directed her to purchase gifts for two girls, ages six and seven. The younger girl had requested a doll. Having raised three daughters, Sarah knew that every little girl loved Barbie. This late in the season, she’d be fortunate to find the current Barbie.

Almost right away she saw that the supplies were depleted, just as she’d suspected. But one lone Firefighter Barbie stood on the once-crowded shelf. Sarah reached for it at the precise moment someone else did.

“I believe I was first,” she insisted. Far be it from her to allow some other person to deprive a poor little girl longing for a Barbie on Christmas morning.

“I believe you’re wrong.”

Mary Sutton. Sarah glared at her with such intensity that Mary must have realized she was not about to be dissuaded.

“Fine,” Mary said after a moment and released her death grip on the Barbie.

“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.