Mrs. Miracle Part 13

"Do you remember what I said about me avoiding my family?"

He hesitated, as if he instinctively knew the importance of what she was about to tell him. "I remember," he said.

She drew in a deep breath, antic.i.p.ating the pain the story was sure to bring. "Four years ago...the same year Pamela died, I was engaged to an architectural student by the name of John G.o.ddard. We'd met in college and fallen deeply in love. We planned our wedding; every detail was of the utmost importance. My older sister, Vicki, was to be my maid of honor. I've never spent a more wonderful summer. I'd graduated from college with a business degree, and was in love and about to be married. Then..." The sudden knot that tightened her throat made it impossible to continue.

"Reba?"

The gentle concern in his voice nearly undid her, and she struggled to hold back the emotion. "Vicki was jealous...I knew it, saw it. We'd always been compet.i.tive, but for the first time in our lives I had something she wanted. You see, she was always the one who blazed new territory. Grades, sports, and just about everything else. It was important to her to outdo me, to be first. Yet I was the one who was engaged, I was to be the first one married.

"She didn't love John, but she flirted with him, teased him, and asked him if he was sure he was marrying the right sister. I laughed it off. What else could I do but laugh?"

"What happened?" Seth asked with tender concern.

She braced herself and between gritted teeth said the words. Each one fell from her lips as hard as concrete. As hard and as unbending. "A week before the wedding I found my sister in bed with my fiance. I'm convinced she planned it that way, that she wanted me to find them. She wanted to show me that she could have anything that was mine. Anything, including my soon-to-be husband." There couldn't be any other explanation. But Vicki's victory had turned out to be a shallow one. Reba recognized that the moment she saw her sister and the sick regret in her eyes. The remorse and honest grief.

"You broke off the engagement?" Seth asked, again with cautious tenderness, recognizing what it had cost her to peel back the wounds of the past. again with cautious tenderness, recognizing what it had cost her to peel back the wounds of the past.

"I canceled the wedding that very day, and I haven't spoken to my sister since." She tensed, waiting for him to tell her how foolish she was being, that by refusing to forgive her sister, she was only hurting herself. Well-meaning friends had said it before, and it was a theme her mother sang at every opportunity. No one understood that what Vicki had done was unforgivable.

"The ironic part of it is that my sister's married now to another man and has a child. The adored, lone grandchild." Hiding her bitterness was an impossible task. That her sister should find happiness while she lived alone rankled every time she allowed her mind to dwell on it.

"In other words, your sister came away from all this smelling like a rose."

Her eyes flew open. Seth knew. Seth understood. "Yes," she whispered, grateful that he appreciated the irony of her situation.

"Meanwhile you broke off the wedding at the last minute and everyone was left to speculate what had happened. That speculation made it seem that the fault was with you. You were fickle, didn't know what you wanted, were afraid of commitment, that sort of thing. You were the one who bore the shame."

"Yes." She had to restrain herself to keep from shouting. The days and weeks following the canceled wedding were a nightmarish blur in her mind. In order to save himself from embarra.s.sment, John had told their friends a story that didn't vaguely resemble the truth.

In an effort to escape the probing questions and the curious stares, Reba had escaped to the beach, telling no one where she was. When she'd returned she'd invested her time and energy in establis.h.i.+ng her travel agency. Some claimed that her success in the highly compet.i.tive travel industry was phenomenal. She wouldn't discount her efforts or the long hours she'd invested, but the drive, the urge to succeed, could be credited to John and Vicki's treachery and her need to escape the memory of their betrayal.

"Aren't you going to tell me how foolish I am to leave this matter between my sister and me unresolved?" Reba challenged. Eventually Seth would comment on it, and she'd rather have it out in the open. "People say leaving the matter this way is like not treating an open, festering wound."

"Have you ever had a boil?" he asked, baffling her by changing the subject.

"No."

"I did as a kid, twice. They're ugly things, painful and full of pus. Eventually they come to a head. My mother put hot compresses on the one on my arm, but the other...well, it was in an area I didn't want my mother looking at." He chuckled softly. "I imagine this matter with your sister is something like an emotional boil. Eventually it'll come to a head, and it'll hurt like h.e.l.l, but once the poison's out of your system, you'll heal, but not until you're ready." sister is something like an emotional boil. Eventually it'll come to a head, and it'll hurt like h.e.l.l, but once the poison's out of your system, you'll heal, but not until you're ready."

"I don't ever plan on speaking to her again."

"I didn't want to deal with the boil, either. You can delay it, ignore it as long as you want, but it isn't going to go away. If you want to live with it, well, that's your decision. When the time's right to set matters straight with your sister, you'll know it."

How wise Seth was, and understanding.

"I wish I was with you right now," he murmured.

She did, too, although she'd opted to explain the situation over the phone. She needed him, and for a woman who'd insulated her life against needing anyone, this was a moment of truth. She did need Seth. Needed him in ways she was only beginning to understand.

"You've been badly hurt. Betrayed by your own flesh and blood, and by the man you were ready to commit your life to. You have a right to your anger, a right to your pain."

"No one understood that." She had to whisper the words because she feared if she spoke normally, her voice wouldn't hold. "My family seemed to think I was better off without John."

"But you loved him."

"Yes. I knew what they said was true, but that didn't make me hurt any less." Her voice shook, but she managed to keep the tears at bay.

"Of course it didn't."

"What happened afterward is beyond comprehension," she said. "That's what I find so crazy. No one faulted Vicki. My parents completely absolved her from any wrongdoing. Because she was sorry, I was supposed to look the other way and pretend this was nothing out of the ordinary. She kept telling me she never meant for it to happen. She sobbed and cried and pleaded with me to forgive her, and I couldn't. The irony is I felt nothing. Not hate, not right away. That came later. I just looked at her, unable to believe that she was capable of anything that ugly, that deceitful."

"I wish I could put my arms around you and take away the hurt," Seth said with such tenderness that she had to fight back the emotion.

"I wish you could, too."

"Close your eyes and pretend I am. Pretend your head's on my shoulder and my arms are wrapped around you."

She shut her eyes and did as he instructed. Caught in the fantasy, she could almost feel his fragrant breath close to her ear. Feel the comfort of his hands as he ran them up and down her spine. Feel the sweet pressure of his lips molding against hers, the taste of his tongue as he claimed her mouth and drove away the demons of the past.

"I think I could love you, Seth Webster." Reba didn't realize what she'd said until she heard the husky words leave her lips. She cringed at revealing her own vulnerability and tilted her head toward the ceiling. husky words leave her lips. She cringed at revealing her own vulnerability and tilted her head toward the ceiling.

"I'm beginning to think the same thing about you, Reba Maxwell. It's as if we're two of a kind, a matched set."

The line hummed with awareness. Reba would have given anything to actually be in his arms just then. "Thank you for not lecturing me about my relations.h.i.+p with my sister."

"You understood why I gave up playing the piano," Seth reminded her. "Plenty of people have given me grief over that."

"We've both been hurt," she said, realizing that it was this knowledge of pain that had drawn them to each other. They had come together like magnets, two of the world's walking wounded.

They talked for an hour longer, the barriers down, freely and without reserve, laughing and crying together. They shared secrets and dreams, and when she hung up, Reba had rarely felt closer to anyone, male or female.

A half hour later she crawled into bed. The sheets felt cool and crisp against her heated skin. She stretched out her arm and ran it along the wide-open s.p.a.ce beside her. She'd found him. The man who would return to her everything that she'd lost. Her sanity, her pride, her dreams. Utterly content for the first time since her canceled wedding, she closed her eyes.

Beyond a doubt she realized that one day she would sleep with Seth, would share her bed and her life with this man who understood her pain. would sleep with Seth, would share her bed and her life with this man who understood her pain.

Jerry Palmer paced the house like a caged gorilla, walking from one empty room to the next. He wasn't sure what he sought, but whatever it was repeatedly escaped him.

Movement seemed only to agitate him further, but sitting and doing nothing was intolerable.

He'd been married to Sharon for forty years and overnight she had become a stranger to him. Without rhyme or reason his loving wife had turned into a hotheaded feminist. It was enough to drive a man to drink.

At first he'd a.s.sumed the brusque personality changes in his wife were due to a hormonal imbalance. A few years back she'd had every window in the house open and was fanning herself like crazy because of one of her hot flashes. He'd been forced to don his coat in the middle of his own house while she sweated until her clothes were damp enough to wring out.

She'd visited her doctor soon afterward, and there hadn't been any more repeats of that. Unfortunately whatever the doctor had given her hadn't done anything to improve her waspish nature. Jerry had gotten into the habit of checking her prescription. She appeared to be taking the tablets regularly, not that it'd done much good.

For years Jerry had looked forward to retirement. He'd worked all his life for a chance to golf every day if he wanted. At first he'd thought that was exactly what he'd do, but to his surprise he'd soon grown tired of traipsing over the greens. Oh, it was good sport, and he enjoyed a couple of rounds a week, but more than that and the sport lost its appeal. every day if he wanted. At first he'd thought that was exactly what he'd do, but to his surprise he'd soon grown tired of traipsing over the greens. Oh, it was good sport, and he enjoyed a couple of rounds a week, but more than that and the sport lost its appeal.

Playing cards was a good pastime, as was working with thirteen-and fourteen-year-olds on the basketball court, but all in all, retirement wasn't what it was touted to be. He found himself restless and antsy and fighting with his wife to the point where she'd walked out on him and left her suitcase behind. She must have been upset to have taken off without it.

He sat and rubbed a hand across his eyes. Maggie claimed he'd been harsh and unreasonable with Sharon about visiting the grandkids over the holidays. His jaw tensed as he recalled the way she'd gone against his wishes and ordered the airline tickets. It used to be that Sharon valued his opinion and readily accepted his decisions. No more. If she didn't like what he had to say, she did as she d.a.m.n well pleased. Exactly what kind of wife ignored her husband's decisions? But then, But then, a small voice nagged at the back of his mind, a small voice nagged at the back of his mind, how often have you ignored hers? how often have you ignored hers?

d.a.m.n it all, Sharon could believe what she wanted about him and Maggie, he decided.

Unable to sit with his thoughts, he reached for the television controller and turned on the television, then just as abruptly turned it off again. He was in no mood to be entertained. Before he knew it, he was on his feet again. was in no mood to be entertained. Before he knew it, he was on his feet again.

Holding the refrigerator door open, he stared inside at the contents. This wouldn't be the first night he'd cooked his own dinner. He reached for the bread and pulled a jar of peanut b.u.t.ter from the shelf. He'd never thought he'd see the day that he'd be married and responsible for cooking his own meals. But then he'd never expected to be married and sleeping alone, either. It wasn't right. It just wasn't right.

He slapped the two pieces of bread together and was about to take the first bite when he noticed Sharon's prescription bottle on the windowsill. In addition to her suitcase, she'd apparently forgotten to take her pills with her to Seattle.

He scratched the side of his head. There was only one thing to do.

He'd deliver them himself.

Chapter 18

The mighty oak tree was once a little nut that held its ground.-Mrs. Miracle

"I'm not wearing any dress," Judd insisted, crossing his arms and tilting his chin at a stubborn angle. Seth recognized that look all too well and was pleased his mother-in-law was the one dealing with his son's bullheadedness.

"It's not a dress," Sharon returned calmly. "It's your costume for the Christmas pageant." After a good night's sleep, she was almost herself once again. She hadn't offered any explanations as to what had happened between her and Jerry, and Seth hadn't pressured her.

"It's a dress." Judd left no room for doubt as to his feelings. "And you can forget about strapping those wings on my back."

"Judd, you're playing the part of an angel." Seth knew it would be a mistake to enter the fray, but he couldn't stop himself. While he sympathized with his son, he knew how much time and effort Reba was putting into this program. She didn't need any more problems.

"I want to be a soldier," Judd announced, and raised his arms the way he'd seen the older boys do when carrying the painted cardboard s.h.i.+elds. "They won't let me because I'm only in the first grade."

"You'll get your turn at being a soldier," Seth a.s.sured him.

"Perhaps we could make the angel costume something other than white," Sharon suggested, stepping back from the chair. Judd and Jason stood on the seats, both wearing old white sheets that had been fas.h.i.+oned into-Seth hated to admit it-dresses.

"The shepherds get to wear bathrobes," Jason muttered, his head drooping. "Am I too young to be a shepherd, too?"

"Maybe next year," Seth said.

"Aaron Greenburg broke his leg, and I thought that Miss Maxwell might give me the part and everything, seeing that you like to look at her in church and kiss her under the mistletoe."

Seth noticed the way his mother-in-law diverted her attention to him. He swallowed uncomfortably and ignored the comment, hoping that Sharon would as well. He planned to tell the kids' grandmother about Reba, but he'd wanted to do it in his own time. kids' grandmother about Reba, but he'd wanted to do it in his own time.

"Miss Maxwell's got short curly hair," Judd added for his grandmother's benefit. This fact seemed to have some significance to the first-grader.

Seth wasn't sure how Sharon would feel about him dating someone else. She'd encouraged him to do so, but saying it was one thing and introducing her to the woman who might one day a.s.sume her daughter's role in his and the children's lives was another.

"Miss Maxwell?" Sharon's question was directed at Seth.

"A friend," he said, making light of the relations.h.i.+p. He couldn't very well admit that she occupied every waking thought and had from the moment he'd walked into the travel agency.

"She's our teacher at church," Jason explained, then frowned. "Sort of teacher."

"Reba's directing the Christmas pageant," Seth explained, wis.h.i.+ng now that he'd remained in the living room. He should have known that the conversation would soon work its way to Reba. The kids talked about her constantly.

"What's this business about her having short hair?" Sharon asked.

Again it was Jason who took it upon himself to explain. "Dad and Reba went out to dinner, and Mrs. Miracle was watching us."

"She's better than any baby-sitter we ever had 'cause she lets us do fun things," Judd added.

Jason glared at his brother. "I was the one telling this."

"All right, all right." His twin looked greatly put-upon. It was one thing to have to wear a white dress and another to let his brother do his talking for him.

"That was when Mrs. Miracle asked us what we thought about having a new mother. She said Daddy might marry again and wondered what Judd and I thought."

"I think it'd be great. I want a mother who lives on earth and not just in heaven," Judd added, and dared his brother to fault him for interrupting.

"I don't remember Mommy very well," Jason said sadly. "Judd says he does, but I don't."

"She used to sing to us," Judd insisted.

Seth doubted that either child could possibly remember Pamela. They'd both been so young.

"She used to come and sing to us at night when everything was dark and quiet."

"I don't remember, I don't remember," Jason repeated wistfully. "I want to remember, but I don't."

Seth noticed how Sharon averted her eyes as the children talked about their mother. This was hard for her, he knew, because it was difficult for him to hear his twins talk about their dead mother.

"I got to thinking about what a new mommy would look like," Judd added, picking up the tale. "So I drew her picture."

"And Judd's picture looks like Miss Maxwell," Jason finished triumphantly.

"That's wonderful," Sharon said, but Seth noticed that her voice trembled slightly. She walked over to the other side of the kitchen and picked up the aluminum-covered wings. A silver garland-wrapped halo was attached, rising from the back side of the wings and held into place with a bent hanger. Seth had to give Sharon credit, she'd done a good job.

"Dad." Jason looked to his father for support, his eyes large and imploring. "You aren't going to make me wear wings and a halo, are you?"