“Yes, thank you for your trouble,” Noelle said as they left the store. “It’s a beautiful service.”
“I’ll give you a good price on it if you change your mind,” the old man said, following them to the front door. “I’ll be here another hour or so if you want to come back.”
“Thank you,” Thom said, but he didn’t think there was much chance they’d be back. It wasn’t the tea service they needed.
“How about lunch before we head home,” he suggested. The Thai restaurant appeared to be open.
“Sure,” Noelle agreed.
Thom shared her discouragement, but he was determined to maintain her optimism—and his own. “Hey, we’ve only started to look. It’s too early to give up.”
“I know. You’re right, it was foolish of me to think we’d find it so quickly. It’s just that…oh, I don’t know, I guess I thought it would be easy because everything else fell into place for us.”
They were the only customers in the restaurant. A charming waitress greeted them and escorted them to a table near the window.
Thom waited until they were seated before he spoke. “I guess this means we go to Plan B.”
“What about Pad Thai and—” Noelle glanced up at him over the menu. “What exactly is Plan B?”
Thom reached inside his coat pocket and set the jeweler’s box in the middle of the table.
“Thom?” Noelle put her menu down.
This wasn’t the way he’d intended to propose, but—as the cliché had it—there was no time like the present. “I love you, Noelle, and I’m not going to let this feud stand between us. Our parents will have to understand that we’re entitled to our own happiness.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh, Thom.”
“I’m asking you to be my wife.”
She stretched her arm across the table and they joined hands. “And I’m telling you it would be the greatest honor of my life to accept. I have a request, though.”
“Anything.”
“I want to buy that tea service. Not you. Me.”
Thom frowned. “Why?”
“I want to give it to your mother. From me to her. I can’t replace the original, but maybe I can build a bridge between our families with this one.”
Thom’s fingers tightened around hers. “It’s worth a try.”
“I think so, too,” she whispered.
“I’m going to try my phone again,” Sarah said. Technology had betrayed them, but surely it would come to their rescue. Eventually. Walking a mile in the bitter cold was something she’d rather avoid.
“Go ahead,” Mary urged. She didn’t seem any more eager than Sarah to make the long trek.
Sarah got her phone and speed dialed her home number. Hope sprang up when the call instantly connected, but was dashed just as quickly when she heard the recording once again.
“Any luck?” Mary asked, her eyes bright and teary in the cold.
She shook her head.
“Damn,” Mary muttered. “I guess that means there’s no option but to hoof it.”
“Appears that way.”
“I think we should have a little fortification first, though,” Sarah said. Her husband’s golf bags were in the back seat, and she knew he often carried a flask.
“Fortification?”
“A little Scotch might save our lives.”
Mary’s look was skeptical. “I’m all for Scotch, but where are we going to find any out here?”
“Jake.” She opened the back door and grabbed the golf bag. Sure enough, there was a flask.
“I don’t remember you liking Scotch,” Mary said.
“I don’t, but at this point I can’t be choosy.”
“Right.”
Sarah removed the top and tipped the flask, taking a sizable gulp. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she swallowed, then shook her head briskly. “Oh my, that’s strong.” The liquor burned all the way down to her stomach, but as soon as it hit bottom, a welcoming warmth spread through her limbs.
“My turn,” Mary said.
Sarah handed her the flask and watched as Mary rubbed the top, then tilted it back and took a deep swallow. She, too, closed her eyes and shook her head. Soon, however, she was smiling. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“It might ward off hypothermia.”
“You’re right. You’d better have another.”
“You think?”
Mary nodded and after a moment, Sarah agreed. Luckily Jake had refilled the flask. The second swallow didn’t taste nearly as nasty as the first. It didn’t burn this time, either. Instead it enhanced the warm glow spreading through her system.
“How do you feel?”
“Better,” Sarah said, giving Mary the flask.
Mary didn’t need encouragement. She took her turn with the flask, then growled like a grizzly bear.
Sarah didn’t know why she found that so amusing, but she did. She laughed uproariously. In fact, she laughed until she started to cough.
“What?” Mary asked, grinning broadly.
“Oh, dear.” She coughed again. “I didn’t know you did animal impressions.”
“I do when I drink Scotch.”
Then, as if they’d both become aware that they were having an actual conversation, they pulled back into themselves. Sarah noticed that Mary’s expression suddenly grew dignified, as though she’d realized she was laughing and joking with her enemy.
“We should get moving, don’t you think?” Mary said in a dispassionate voice.
“You’re right.” Sarah put the flask back in the golf bag and wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck and face. Fortified in all respects, she was ready to face the storm. “It’s a good thing we’re walking together. Anything could happen on a day like this.”
They’d gone about the length of a football field when Mary said, “I’m cold again.”
“I am, too.”
“You should’ve brought along the Scotch.”
“We’ll have to go back for it.”
“I think we should,” Mary agreed solemnly. “We could freeze to death before we reach the club.”
“Yes. The Scotch might make the difference between survival and death.”
Back at the car, they climbed in and shared the flask again. Soon, for no apparent reason, they were giggling.
“I think we’re drunk,” Mary said.
“Oh, hardly. I can hold my liquor better than this.”
Mary burst into peals of laughter. “No, you can’t. Don’t you remember the night of our Halloween party?”
“That was—what?—twenty-two years ago!”
“I know, but I haven’t forgotten how silly those margaritas made you.”
“You were the one who kept filling my glass.”
“You were the one who kept telling me how good they were.”
Sarah nearly doubled over with hysterics. “Next thing I knew, I was standing on the coffee table singing ‘Guantanamera’ at the top of my lungs.”
“You sounded fabulous, too. And then when you started to dance—”
“I what?” All Sarah recalled was the blinding headache she’d suffered the next morning. When she woke and could barely lift her head from the pillow without stabbing pain, she’d phoned her dearest, best friend in the world. Mary had dropped everything and rushed over. She’d mixed Sarah a tomato-juice concoction that had saved her life, or so she’d felt at the time.
Both women were silent. “I miss those days,” Sarah whispered.
“I do, too,” Mary said.
Sarah sniffled. It was the cold that made her eyes water. Digging through her purse, she couldn’t find a single tissue. Mary gave her one.
“I’ve missed you,” Sarah said and loudly blew her nose.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
The cold must have intensified, because her eyes began to water even more. Using her coat sleeve, she wiped her nose.
“Here,” she said to Mary, handing her the flask. “I wa
nt you to have this. Take the rest.”
“The Scotch?”
Sarah nodded. “If we’re not found until it’s too late—I want you to have the liquor. It might keep you alive long enough for the rescue people to revive you.”
Mary looked as though she was close to bursting into tears. “You’d die for—me?” She hiccuped on the last word.
Sarah nodded again.
“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“But before I die, I need to ask you something.”
“Anything,” Mary told her. “Anything at all.”
Sarah sniffled and swallowed a sob. Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she whispered, “Forgive me.”
Mary placed her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I do forgive you, but first you have to forgive me for acting so badly. You were right—I was jealous of Cheryl. I thought you liked her better than me.”
“Never. She’s one of those people who move in and out of a person’s life, but you—you’re my…my soul sister. I’ve missed you so much.”
“We’re idiots.” Mary returned the flask. “I can’t accept this Scotch. If we freeze, we freeze together.”
Sarah was feeling downright toasty at the moment. The world was spinning, but that was probably because she was drunker than a skunk. The thought made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Mary wanted to know.
“We’re drunk,” she muttered. “Drunk as skunks. Drunk as skunks,” she recited in a singsong voice.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
They laughed again.
“Jake always insists I eat something when I’ve had too much to drink.”
“We have lots of food,” Mary said, sitting up straight.
“Yes, but most of it’s half-frozen by now.”
Mary’s eyes gleamed bright. “Not everything. I’m sure the families would want us to take what we need, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Sarah said as Mary climbed over the front seat and into the back, her coat flipping over her head.
Sarah laughed so hard she nearly peed her pants.
Women’s Century Club Rose, Oregon
December 24
Dear Mary and Sarah,
Just a note to let you know how much the Women’s Century Club appreciates the effort that went into preparing these Christmas baskets. You two did a splendid job. I could see from the number of gifts filling the baskets that you went far beyond the items listed on the sheet I gave you. Both of you have been generous to a fault.
Sarah, I realize it was difficult to come into this project at the last minute, but you are to be commended for your cooperation.
Mary, you did a wonderful job making all the arrangements, and I’m confident the baskets will reach the Salvation Army in plenty of time to be distributed for the holidays.
If you’re both willing to take up the task again next year, I’d be happy to recommend you for the job.
Sincerely,
Melody Darrington
Chapter Nine
Jake McDowell glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “What time did your mother say she’d be home?”
“I don’t know.” His youngest daughter was certainly a fount of information. Carley lay flat on her stomach in front of the Christmas tree, her arms outstretched as she examined a small package.
“She should be back by now, don’t you think?” Jake asked, looking at the clock again.
“I suppose.”
“When will Noelle be home?”
Unconcerned, Carley shrugged.
Jake decided he wasn’t going to get any answers here and tried Sarah’s cell for perhaps the fiftieth time. Whenever he punched in the number, he received the same irritating message. “I’m sorry. We are unable to connect your call….”
Not knowing what else to do, he phoned his golfing partner. Greg Sutton answered on the first ring.
“I thought you were Mary,” he said, sounding as worried as Jake was.
“You haven’t heard from Mary?”
“Not a word. Is Sarah back?”
“No,” Jake said. “That’s why I was calling you.”
“What do you think happened?”
“No idea. I could understand if one of them was missing, but not both.”
Greg didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did you phone the Women’s Century Club?”
“I did. Melody said they were there and left two hours ago. She told me the ice storm’s pretty bad in her area. She’s going to stay put until her husband can come and get her this afternoon.”
“What did she say about Mary and Sarah?”
“Not much. Just that they got the baskets all sorted and loaded into Mary’s vehicle. Melody did make some comment about Sarah and Mary being pretty hostile toward each other. According to her, they left at different times.”
“That doesn’t explain why they’re both missing.”
“What if one of them had an accident and the other stopped to help?” Greg suggested.
Jake hadn’t considered that. “But wouldn’t they have been back by now?”
“Unless they got stuck.”
“Together?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Jake laughed grimly. “If that’s the case, God help us all.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“We can’t leave them out there.”
“You’re right,” Greg said. “But I have to tell you the idea is somewhat appealing. If they are stuck with each other for a while, they just might settle this mess.”
“They could murder each other, too.” Jake knew his wife far too well. When it came to Mary Sutton, she could be downright unreasonable. “I say we go after them—together.”
Jake had no objection to that. Greg owned a large four-wheel drive truck that handled better on the ice than most vehicles. “You want to pick me up?”
“I’m on my way,” Greg said.
Sarah reached for another Christmas cookie. “What did you call these again?” she asked, studying the package. Unfortunately, the letters wouldn’t quite come into focus.
“Pfeffernusse.”
“Try to say that three times when you’re too drunk to stand up.”
Mary giggled and helped herself to one of the glazed ginger cookies. “They’re German. One family on the list had a German-sounding name and I thought they might be familiar with these cookies.”
Sarah was touched. Tears filled her eyes. “You’re so thoughtful.”
“Not really,” Mary said with a sob. “I…I was trying to outdo you.” She was weeping in earnest now. “How could I have been so silly?”
“I did the same thing.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Mary’s shoulders. “I was the one who got us thrown out of Value-X.”
Mary sniffled and dried her eyes. “I’m never going to let anything come between us again.”
“I won’t, either,” Sarah vowed. “I think this has been the best Christmas of my life.”
“Christmas!” Mary jerked upright. “Oh, Sarah, we’ve got to get these baskets to the Salvation Army!”
“But how? We can’t carry all this stuff.”
“True, but we can’t just sit here, either.” She looked into the distance, in the direction of the Women’s Century Club. “We’re going to have to walk, after all.”
Her friend was right. They had to take matters into their own hands and work together. “We can do it.”
“We can. We’ll walk to the club and send someone to get the baskets. Then we’ll call Triple A. See? We have a plan. A good plan. There isn’t anything we can’t do if we stick together.”
Sarah felt the tears sting her eyes again. “Is there any Scotch left?”
“No,” Mary said, sounding sad. “We’re going to have to make it on our own.”
Clambering out of the car, Sarah was astonished by how icy the road had become in the hour or so they’d dawdled over their comforting Sc
otch. Luckily, she was wearing her boots, whereas Mary wore loafers.
Her friend gave a small cry and then, arms flailing, struggled to regain her balance. “My goodness, it’s slippery out here.”
“How are we going to do this?” Sarah asked. “You can’t walk on this ice.”
“Sure I can,” Mary assured her, straightening with resolve. But she soon lost her balance again and grabbed hold of the car door, just managing to save herself.
“It’s like you said—we’ll do it together,” Sarah declared. “We have to, because I’m not leaving you behind.”
With Mary’s arm around Sarah’s waist and Sarah’s arm about Mary’s shoulder, they started walking down the center of the road. The treacherous ice slowed them down, and their progress was halting, especially since both of them were drunk and weepy with emotion.
“I wonder how long it’ll take Greg to realize I’m not home,” Mary said. Her husband was in trouble as it was, leaving her a defective vehicle to drive.
“Probably a lot longer than Jake. I told him I wouldn’t be more than an hour.”
“I’m sure there’s some football game on TV that Greg’s busy staring at. He won’t notice I’m not there until Suzanne and Thom arrive for dinner.” Mary went strangely quiet.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, tightening her hold on her friend.
“Yes, but…Thom. I was thinking about Thom. He’s in love with Noelle, you know.”
“Noelle’s been in love with Thom since she was sixteen. It broke her heart when he dumped her.”
“Thom didn’t dump her. She dumped him.”
Sarah bristled. “She did not!”
“You mean to say something else happened?”
“It must have, because I know for a fact that Noelle’s always loved Thom.”
“And Thom feels the same about her.”
“We have to do something,” Sarah said. “We’ve got to find a way to get them back together.”
“I think they might’ve been secretly seeing each other,” Mary confessed.
Sarah shook her head, which made her feel slightly dizzy. “Noelle would’ve told me. We’re this close.” She attempted to cross two fingers, but couldn’t manage it. Must be because of her gloves, she decided. Yes, that was it.
On a Snowy Night: The Christmas BasketThe Snow Bride Page 14
