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

“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.