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