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.
NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
December 19
11:30 p.m.
I can’t believe it! Even now, when it’s long past time for bed, I’m wide-awake and so furious, any chance of falling asleep is impossible. I doubt if anyone could do a better job of looking like a world-class idiot. Right there in the theater, with my little sister at my side, I behaved like a juvenile.
I’ve worked hard to be a positive influence on Carley. I take my role as oldest sister very seriously. Then I go and pull a stunt like this. Adding insult to injury is the fact that I then had to face Thom, knowing he was completely aware of what a fool I’d made of myself.
Speaking of Thom…no, I don’t want to think about him. First the airplane and now this! I’d sincerely hoped he’d be married with a passel of kids. I wanted him to be so completely out of the picture that I’d never need to think about him again. Instead—just my luck—he’s single, eligible and drop-dead handsome. Life can be brutally unfair.
One good thing that came from all this is the long conversation I had with Carley after the movie. She’s young and idealistic, much the same way I was at her age. We talked some more about Mom and Mrs. Sutton. It’s really a very sad feud. I told her what good friends our two families used to be. The telling brought up a lot of memories. At one time, our families did everything together.
Thom was the first boy ever to kiss me. We were both sixteen. Wow! I still remember how good it felt. I don’t remember what movie was playing and I doubt Thom does, either. That kiss was really something, even though we had no idea what we were doing. There was a purity to it, an innocence. His lips stayed on mine for mere seconds, but somehow we knew. I certainly did, and I thought Thom did, too.
It’s funny how much it hurts to think about the way he deceived me. I try not to dwell on it. But I can’t help myself, especially now….
“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