Chapters (25)
- Cover
- The Christmas Basket
- Other titles by Debbie Macomber now available wherever Harlequin ebooks are sold:
- Dedication
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter One
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Two
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Three
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Four
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Five
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Six
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Seven
- A NOTE FROM NOELLE McDOWELL
- Chapter Eight
- Women’s Century Club Rose, Oregon
- Chapter Nine
- Sarah McDowell
- About the Author
- Copyright
“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 curtain hanging over the screen slowly parted. Soon, they were watching previews for upcoming features. Noelle absently nibbled on popcorn and let her mind wander.