Her father’s eyes didn’t waver from the television screen. “Are you meeting Thom?”

“Ah…”

Her father raised his hand. “Say no more. What do you want me to tell your mother if she asks?”

“That I’ve gone shopping… We’re meeting at the mall.”

“That’s all she needs to know.”

Noelle kissed her father on the cheek. His eyes didn’t leave the screen as he reached inside his pants pocket and handed her his car keys. “Why don’t you take my car again?”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then her father did look away from the television and his gaze sought hers. “You have feelings for this young man?”

Noelle nodded. It was the truth, much as she hated to acknowledge it, even to herself.

Her father nodded, too. “I was afraid of that.”

His words lingered in Noelle’s mind as she drove to the Rose Mall on the west side of town. She’d lived for this moment ever since she and Thom had parted the night before. They’d resolved what both had considered a deception, but so many questions were still unanswered. They needed time to think, to consider the consequences of becoming involved a second time. Nothing had changed between their families—or more specifically, their mothers—but other things were different. Noelle wasn’t the naive eighteen-year-old she’d been ten years ago; neither was Thom.

It took a good twenty minutes to find a parking space, and the mall was equally crowded. Carolers dressed in Victorian costumes stood in front of the JCPenney store, cheerfully singing “Silver Bells.” Noelle wished she could listen for a while, but fearing she might be late, she paused only a moment to take in the sights and the sounds of the holiday season.

She hurried through the overheated mall and found Thom at a table in the food court, just the way they’d agreed. He stood as she approached.

“I haven’t kept you waiting, have I?” she asked.

“No, no. It occurred to me that with Christmas this close we might have trouble finding a table so I grabbed one early.”

He’d always been thoughtful. As he put down his coffee and pulled out her chair, she shrugged out of her coat and threw it on the back of the seat. “Would you like to get some lunch?”

She shook her head. “You should have something, though.” Her stomach had been upset all morning.

“Are you ill?”

“No—it’s guilt.” He might as well know. She’d been anxious since last night, since their first moonlit kiss… All through church services and afterward, she’d repeatedly told herself how ridiculous it was to sneak around behind her mother’s back. Her father had apparently been doing it for years, but secretive actions truly bothered Noelle.

“Guilt?”

“I don’t like being dishonest.”