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

“I hear—again from Jon—that he dates quite a bit, but there’s no one serious.”

Noelle shouldn’t be pleased, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to examine that reaction too closely.

“I want to know what happened,” Carley demanded, rising to her knees. “I’m not a kid anymore. Tell me!”

“He was Noelle’s high school sweetheart,” Kirsten explained.

“The guy who left you at the altar?”

“Who told you that?” Noelle asked, although the answer was obvious. “And he didn’t leave me at the altar.” Just being accurate, she told herself. I’m not defending him.

“Mom told me ’cause she wants me to keep away from those Suttons. When I asked her why, she said you learned your lesson the hard way. She said a Sutton broke your heart and jilted you.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Kristen told her.

“I want to know everything,” Carley pleaded. “How can I hate them if I don’t know what they did that was so awful?”

“You shouldn’t hate anyone.”

“I don’t, not really, but if our family doesn’t like their family, then I should know why.”

“It’s a long story.”

Carley sat back on her heels. “That’s what Mom said.”

“God help me,” Kristen murmured, covering her eyes with one hand. “Don’t tell me I already sound like Mom. I didn’t think this would happen until I turned thirty.”

Noelle laughed, although she wasn’t sure how funny it was, since she herself was only days from her twenty-ninth birthday.

“Did you love him terribly?” Carley asked with a faraway look in her eyes.

Noelle wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt a distant and remembered pain but refused to let it take hold. “I thought I did.”

“It was wildly romantic,” Kristen added. “They were madly in love, but then they had a falling-out—”

“That’s one way to put it,” Noelle said, interrupting her sister. Thom had apparently fallen out of love with her. He’d certainly fallen out of their plans to elope.

“This is all so sad,” Carley said with an exaggerated sigh.

“Our parents not getting along is what started this in the first place.”

“At least you and Thom didn’t kill yourselves, like Romeo and Juliet—”

“No.” Noelle shook her head. “I’ve always been the sane, sensible sister. Remember?” But even as she spoke, she recognized her words for the lie they were. Staying away for ten years was a pretty extreme and hardly “sensible” reaction. Even she knew that. The fact was, though, something that had begun as a protest had simply become habit.

“Oh, sure,” Kristen teased. “Very sensible. You work too hard, you don’t date nearly enough and you avoid Rose as though we’ve got an epidemic of the plague.”

“Guilty, guilty, not guilty.” She wasn’t purposely avoiding Rose, she told herself, at least not anymore and not to the extent that Kristen implied. Noelle’s job was demanding and it was difficult to take off four or five days in a row.

“I’ve never met Thom, and already I don’t like him,” Carley announced. “Anyone who broke your heart is a dweeb. Besides, if he married you the way he said he would, you’d be living in Rose now and I could see you anytime I wanted.”

“Well put, little sister,” Kristen said. She shrugged off her coat, then joined Carley at the foot of the bed.

Noelle smiled at her two sisters and realized with a pang how much she missed them. Back in Texas it was all too easy to let work consume her life—to relegate these important relationships to fifteen-minute conversations on the phone.

“Look,” Kristen said and stretched out her arm so Noelle could see her engagement ring. It was a solitaire diamond, virtually flawless, in a classic setting. A perfect choice for Kristen. “Jon and I shopped for weeks. He wanted the highest-quality stone for the best price.” Her eyes softened as she studied the ring.

“It’s beautiful,” Noelle whispered, overcome for a moment by the sheer joy she saw in her sister’s face.

“You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?”

“As long as I don’t have to wear a dress the color of Pepto-Bismol.”

“You’re safe on that account.”

“If you ask me to be the flower girl, I think I’ll scream,” Carley muttered. “Why won’t anyone believe me when I tell them I’m not a little kid anymore? I’m almost fourteen!”

“Not for ten months,” Noelle reminded her.

“But, I’m going to be fourteen.”

Kristen brushed the hair away from Carley’s face. “Actually, I intended to ask you to be a bridesmaid.”

“You did?” Carley shrieked with happiness. “Well, then, I’ll tell you what I overheard Mom tell Dad.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she detailed a conversation between their parents regarding Christmas baskets.

“Mom’s meeting with Mrs. Sutton tomorrow morning?” Noelle repeated incredulously.

“That’s what she said. She didn’t sound happy about it, either.”

“I’ll just bet she didn’t.”

“This should be interesting,” Kristen murmured.

Yes, it should, Noelle silently agreed. It should be very interesting, indeed.

NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL

December 19

(2:00 a.m.)

So I saw him before I even got back to town. Of all the flights I could’ve taken…

Seeing Thom after all these years was probably the most humbling experience of my life, except for the last time I was with him. Correction. Wasn’t with him. Why did this have to happen to me? Or did I bring it on myself because of my obsession over seeing him again?

Okay, the thing to do is look at the positive aspect of this. It’s over. I saw him, it was worse than I could have imagined, but now I don’t need to worry about it anymore. Thom made it clear that he wasn’t any happier to see me than I was about running into him. At least the feeling’s mutual. Although I’m kind of confused by that, since I’m the offended one. He jilted me. Unfortunately, after this latest run-in, he doesn’t have any reason to regret that. I behaved like an idiot.

On a brighter note—and I’m always looking for brighter notes!—it’s good to be home. I shouldn’t have stayed away for ten years. That was foolish and I’m sorry about it. I walked all through the house, stopping in each room. After a while, I got all teary as I looked around. Nothing’s really changed and yet everything’s different. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my home. Mom’s got the house all decorated for Christmas, including those funny-looking cotton-ball snowmen I made at camp a thousand years ago. When I commented on that, she told me it was tradition. She puts them out every Christmas. She got all choked up and I did, too. We hugged, and I promised I’d never stay away this long again. And I won’t.