“I assumed you’d get married first,” he said.

Noelle grinned, shaking her head. “There’s something else we need to talk about,” she murmured. “What are we going to do now?” She began with the least palatable option—which was also the easiest. “I mean, we could shake hands and say it’s great to have this cleared up, then just go back to our respective lives.” She waited, watching for a response from him.

His face revealed none of his thoughts. “We could do that,” he said. “Or…” He looked at her.

“Or we could renew our friendship.”

Thom leaned back in his chair. “I like that option.”

So did Noelle. “But, as you said, there’s still the situation with our mothers.” Now she was the one bringing it up, although she’d hoped to avoid any mention of their mothers’ feud. It was futile, she realized. They couldn’t avoid it, no matter how hard they tried.

“If your mother hadn’t borrowed my great-grandmother’s tea service,” Thom began, “she—”

“My mother?” Noelle cried. “I agree she made a mistake, but she was the first to admit it. Your mother refused to forgive her, and that says a lot about the kind of person she is.”

Thom’s eyes were flinty with anger. “Don’t paint your mother as the one who was wronged because—”

Noelle was unwilling to listen to any more. “Listen, Thom, this isn’t going to solve anything. I think it’d be best if we dropped the subject entirely.”

“That isn’t the only thing you want to drop, is it?”

It was a question she didn’t want to answer. A question that implied it would be best for all concerned if they simply walked away from each other right now. Their circumstances hadn’t changed, not really; the business with their mothers would always be an obstacle between them. They could ignore it, but it would never disappear.

She stood and gathered her purse, pulled on her coat. This time Thom didn’t try to stop her.

“So, you’re walking away at the first sign of difficulty,” he said.

“No. As a teenager my heart was open to you and your family, but I’m older now.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” he demanded.

“This time, my eyes are open, too.”

He looked as if he wanted to continue their argument. But she didn’t have the heart for it. Obviously Thom didn’t, either, because he let her go without another word.

“Help me carry everything in, Greg,” Mary Sutton said as she stepped into the house. Her arms were loaded with plastic bags bursting at the seams.