“You’re absolutely right, Jake, Mary Sutton’s done enough to me. I refuse to allow her to ruin my Christmas—and Noelle’s birthday—too. We’re going to show up at the dance and hold our heads high. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But…” Her father cleared his throat. “What if Mary mentions the incident at the Value-X?” He lowered his voice, sounding as though that would be a horrible embarrassment to them all. Noelle had to give her father credit; he was good at this.

“She won’t say a word,” her mother said with complete confidence. “Mary wouldn’t dare bring up the subject, seeing that she was tossed out on her ear, right along with me.”

Her resolve clearly renewed, Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips. Nothing would thwart her now. “We’re attending the dance tomorrow night, and that’s all there is to it.”

Her father made a small protesting noise that echoed Noelle’s sentiments. She was stuck going to this dance when it was the very last thing she wanted.

Dressed in a floor-length pink formal that had once been worn by Kristen in high school, Noelle felt like last year’s prom queen. Her enthusiasm for this dance was on a par with filing her income tax return.

“You look positively lovely,” her mother told her as they headed out the door.

How Noelle looked had little to do with how she felt. Her father brought the car out of the garage and held open the doors for Noelle and Carley, then helped their mother into the front seat beside him.

“How did I get so lucky—escorting three beautiful women to the biggest dance of the year?”

“Clean living,” Noelle’s mother said with authority. “And a clear conscience.” Noelle didn’t know whether to laugh at that remark or shrug in bewilderment. Leaning forward in order to look out the front window, Sarah added, “I think it’s going to snow.”

Hearing “Jingle Bells” on the car radio, Noelle suspected her mother was being influenced by the words of the song.

“We’re more prone to ice storms than snow this time of year,” her father said mildly.

Noelle had forgotten about the treacherous storms, although she’d experienced a number of them during the years she’d lived in Rose. They created astonishing beauty—and terrible dangers.

“Kristen and Jonathan are meeting us at the dance, aren’t they?” Carley asked.

“That’s what she said,” Noelle answered. Carley was dressed in a full-length pale blue dress with cap sleeves and she wore matching low-heeled shoes. She looked lovely and so mature it was all Noelle could do not to cry. Her baby sister was growing up.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.

“Mrs. Sutton’s probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.