Mrs. Miracle

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Mrs. Miracle Page 16

by Debbie Macomber


  “Would you mind kissing me?” she asked suddenly. It was a dangerous request with his mother-in-law due to walk in at any moment, but she didn’t want to wait.

  In response, he captured her face between his hands and smiled softly as his eyes met hers. “What do you think?” He leaned forward and tenderly placed his mouth over hers.

  The kiss was long and sweet. Involved. One kiss wasn’t enough for either of them, and soon the kisses deepened.

  His touch was like a healing balm, a soothing astringent after the pain her mother’s words and actions had inflicted. With Seth she was safe. With Seth she was cherished. With Seth she was wanted.

  He groaned, and she opened her mouth to the probing tip of his tongue. By the time Sharon knocked and proceeded into the room, carrying the tray of coffee, Reba was clinging mindlessly to Seth.

  “I’ll put this down right here,” his mother-in-law announced cheerfully.

  “Is Dad kissing Miss Maxwell again?” Reba heard one of the kids ask in a loud whisper.

  “There’s not any mistletoe in Dad’s study, is there?” the other twin demanded. “I didn’t think he’d do it without the mistletoe, did you?” The question was apparently directed at his brother. “Right on the lips, too.” The comment was followed by a sound of disgust.

  “Come along, children.”

  Reba hid her face in Seth’s shoulder rather than meet the inquisitive stares of the children. “Seth, I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “I’m not. Not in the least.”

  Reba remained embarrassed by how needy she’d been. She’d hurried to Seth, knowing he would lend her the comfort she needed without lengthy explanations.

  His hands roved up and down her back, his touch gentle and caring. Gradually his fingers worked around to her front, capturing her breasts. Her own soft sigh of pleasure mingled with his, and his lips found hers once more for a second, even deeper exchange. Reba’s nipples hardened and tingled as she repeatedly skimmed her moist lips across his.

  “This worries me,” Seth whispered on the tail end of a husky sigh.

  “What does?”

  “Touching you like this.” But his hands stayed exactly where they were, kneading her breasts through the thin material of her sweater. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted him to feel her breasts.

  “Oh, Seth, I want it, too.”

  “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.” With what seemed to demand a colossal effort, he pulled his hands away and braced his forehead against hers, his breathing as deep and shaky as her own. “Tell me what happened with your mother.”

  “No,” she said, and shook her head. “I’m better now, thanks to you. Much better.”

  “It has to do with your sister, doesn’t it?”

  “Seth, please. I don’t want to talk about Vicki.” She kissed him, using her tongue to outline the shape of his mouth, teasing him with short, nibbling kisses, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth.

  “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working.”

  “Good.” She smiled softly to herself. “Now pour me some coffee and tell me what’s going on between your in-laws.”

  Her words appeared to sober him. He took a moment to straighten, then did as she requested. After he’d brought her a cup of coffee, he sat on the leather chair next to hers.

  “Something’s happened between those two.”

  “Good or bad?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know, but I suspect it’s bad. Jerry arrived, and the two talked privately for a while. I assumed they’d cleared up whatever was wrong between them, but my feeling is that it hasn’t gone away.”

  “Are they fighting?”

  “No,” he said, holding the coffee mug with both hands. He leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees. “Not in the least. It’s like they’re polite strangers. It’s ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ at every turn. Jerry brings her coffee in the morning, and she makes sure the newspaper is just so for him.”

  “That sounds like the routine of a long married couple.”

  “I suppose,” he said, but it didn’t look as though he were reassured. If anything, he seemed convinced of the opposite.

  “You think it’s for show, don’t you?”

  His grin was slightly off center. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think. It’s like they’re playing this game, making it seem that there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with their relationship.”

  “But you think there is.”

  “I know there is.”

  She didn’t ask how he knew. “Then why would they go through this pretense?”

  “I don’t know. Possibly because it’s close to Christmas and they don’t want to upset the twins. Or because of me.” He rubbed a hand down the side of his face and glanced guiltily at her. “Then again I’ve been distracted by a certain travel agent of late and wouldn’t know my head from a hole in the ground.”

  Happiness filled her heart. “It’s an honor to be considered a distraction.”

  He chuckled. “If only you knew.”

  “Tell me.” Her ego could do with a few strokes.

  “You tell me what sent you running to me like an injured rabbit after having dinner with your mother.”

  Reba glared at him, then smiled. “You don’t play fair.”

  He didn’t respond, merely seemed content to wait until she’d satisfied his curiosity.

  “Vicki will be with my family Christmas Day.” From the emotionless look in his eyes, she could tell he didn’t understand. “There appears to have been a breakdown in communication between my mother and me. Since I’m the chair for the Christmas program, I can’t attend dinner Christmas Eve, and apparently my sister is obligated to attend some shindig with her husband’s family.”

  “You don’t want to be with your parents at the same time as your sister?”

  “I won’t have anything to do with her. I already explained that, remember?” She knew she sounded defensive, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “Spend the day with me and the kids,” Seth invited her.

  She hadn’t come seeking an invitation. She shook her head. “No, but thank you.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a pity invitation.”

  Seth chuckled. “Hardly. I’d like it more than you know. Come, please.”

  Pride should have been enough to keep her from accepting, but pride was cold comfort. For the first time since the disastrous day of her near wedding, she had someone in her life.

  “Reba?” Seth coaxed.

  “I’ll come.” Such a little thing. She had no right to be this happy.

  Chapter 22

  You have to wonder about humans. They think God is dead and Elvis is alive.

  —Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy, personal friends of Mrs. Miracle

  The irony of it was that Sharon had gotten along with Jerry better in the last several days, since they’d agreed to a divorce, than in the previous twelve months. She sat next to him in the movie theater and forced her attention back to the screen. Agent 007 was back in action. James Bond had returned to save the world from the latest fiend.

  She reached for a handful of popcorn, and Jerry angled the bucket toward her, granting her easy access to the buttery-topped kernels. A time not so long ago and they wouldn’t have been able to agree on which movie, which theater, what night, or anything else. She wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed it this time. It was as though the decision to separate had freed them, and they could once more return to the congenial couple they’d once been.

  The temptation was to forget the troubles of the past and enjoy this newfound accord, but Sharon knew this “honeymoon” wouldn’t last. They’d agreed to make the best of it until after Christmas—it made sense not to ruin the children’s holidays with the distressing news of their failed marriage.

  The action-packed movie involved almost everyone else in the theater, but Sharon had a difficult time keeping her thoughts on the charac
ters on the screen.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With the two of them sitting in a movie theater as if nothing were amiss, as if they were as deeply in love as the day they’d married. Or more so.

  The heavy weight of her failure pressed down on her, until she felt as if she were slowly being lowered into a pit of despair. So many questions remained unanswered. Sharon wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself. Or where she’d live. Or even what she’d tell her friends.

  In retrospect, she wished she’d paid more attention to what other women she’d known had done following their divorces. As far as she could remember, few, if any, had turned out to be friendly divorces. They’d all started out that way, but somewhere along the line animosity had taken control. It was all so terribly depressing to see what could happen between two people who’d once professed to love each other. Soon it would be happening to her and Jerry.

  The movie credits started to roll across the large white screen and Sharon realized, with some surprise, that the film was over. She hadn’t realized how close the plot was to the end, which was a bit like her marriage, she mused. The credits were about to scroll down the once white screen of her life with Jerry.

  “Whatever happened to Anita Perkins?” Sharon asked her husband. Jerry wore a puzzled look as he stood and led the way out of the theater. Anita and her husband had been Elk members, and Earl had routinely played golf with Jerry. A couple of years back they’d divorced, and now Sharon couldn’t recall what had become of her friend.

  “I don’t know,” Jerry admitted.

  “Don’t you see Earl anymore?”

  “No.” Her husband frowned and shook his head. “I can’t say that I do. It must be six months or longer since he was out at the golf course. He just drifted away.” He paused and then asked, “What about Anita?”

  Sharon shrugged. “The last I heard she’d moved to Oregon to be closer to her daughter.”

  They remained unnaturally quiet as they made their way out toward the parking lot. Seth had loaned Jerry the family car. They were both sitting inside, the engine running and the defroster blasting hot air against the windshield, before Jerry spoke again.

  “It won’t be that way with us.”

  Sharon prayed he was right, but life held few guarantees. “What went wrong with Anita and Earl?” she asked, thinking Jerry might have some insight to share, something that would help see them through this difficult time.

  Jerry shrugged. “Earl never said. What about Anita?”

  “Not much, just that they’d grown apart the last few years.”

  “The same as us, then.” For the first time since she’d mentioned divorce, a note of sadness entered Jerry’s voice. “Like I said earlier, it’ll be different with us. We’ll make it different.”

  Sharon knew he believed that now. But once the attorneys started casting accusations and blame like poison darts, they’d react the same way their friends had, and all their good intentions would get tossed out the proverbial window. Despite their talk about making this a friendly divorce, it would eventually turn into something ugly, the same as it had with other couples they’d known. By nature the dissolution of marriage was ugly and painful.

  Jerry pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. “Do you want to stop and have dinner?”

  “No, thanks. The popcorn filled me up.” A small white lie.

  “Me too,” Jerry muttered.

  But it wasn’t the popcorn, and they both knew it. Their appetite had been ruined by the reminder that soon they would be like their friends. A year from now one of Jerry’s golfing buddies was going to ask what had ever happened to Sharon or Jerry and say how sad it was that they hadn’t been able to work matters out.

  The house was dark and quiet except for a thin slice of light coming from beneath Seth’s study door. Sharon heard softly mumbled voices and suspected her son-in-law wouldn’t appreciate an intrusion. Reba had apparently come to help him watch the kids.

  Jerry raised his eyebrows when he heard a soft giggle. He didn’t say anything until the bedroom door was closed. “What’s going on with Seth?”

  “He’s got a woman friend.” Sharon wasn’t entirely sure how much she should say.

  “The same one who stopped by last night?” Jerry asked with meaning. “It sounds like they might be getting serious.”

  “It’s been four years.”

  Still her husband frowned. “He’s not going to marry her, is he?”

  “How would I know?” Sharon removed her sweater and hung it up in the closet. She ran her hand along the soft texture of the knit fabric. A gift from Jerry, one he’d purchased a couple of years earlier for her birthday.

  “Do you like her?”

  Sharon sighed. “I only met her once, briefly. She’s a nice girl, what can I say? The twins seem to like her.”

  Jerry sat on the edge of the mattress, his shoulders sagging. “It shouldn’t come as a shock. Seth’s young and healthy. I didn’t know he was dating. He hasn’t before now, has he?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  Jerry looked away, as if the subject were an uncomfortable one. “It’s not that I object, mind you, it’s just that I’ve always thought of Seth as Pammy’s husband.”

  “I did, too, but it’s time. Past time. Like you said, Seth’s young and healthy. From what he’s told me about Reba, meeting her was like a gift from God. It’s the same for her, apparently, although he didn’t mention why.”

  “You say the twins like her?”

  “Very much.” It was one thing to accept this other woman as part of Seth’s life and quite another to view her as a possible stepmother to Judd and Jason. Since she’d taken over Pamela’s role until the last four months, Sharon had suffered more than one qualm. The fact that the children were eager for their father to remarry was confirmation that she’d done her job well.

  “If the kids like her, then that’s good enough for me.” Jerry tended to see things in black and white. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled in his mind.

  “It is for me, too,” she added with only the slightest hesitation.

  Jerry removed his clothes and climbed into bed, then sat up, with his hands braced behind his back, his elbows jutting out at his sides. She’d been dressing and undressing in front of her husband for nearly forty years; it was ridiculous to be shy about doing so now.

  Jerry studied her as she self-consciously removed her clothes. “You’re a fine figure of a woman, Sharon.”

  Even more ridiculous was the wave of color that flooded her cheeks. “Thank you,” she mumbled, embarrassed and eager to turn off the light.

  “Will you remarry?”

  The question came out of the blue and caught her by surprise.

  “Remarry? Me?” she snapped. “Of course not, why would I do anything so foolish?” She didn’t mean to sound waspish, but she was genuinely taken aback by the absurdity of the question.

  “You’re the one who asked for the divorce,” he reminded her, his jaw tightening. “For all I know there might be someone else in your life right now.”

  For a moment Sharon was too stunned to respond. “Do you mean to say you’ve been living with me all these years and you still don’t know me, Jerry Palmer?”

  Jerry pinched his lips tightly closed.

  Sharon tossed back the covers and climbed between the sheets—only this night she was the one who rolled onto her side and presented her back to her husband. She tucked the sheet more securely about her shoulder and held it tightly in place at her neck.

  “I…I didn’t mean that to sound the way it did,” Jerry admitted gruffly a couple of moments later.

  She heard his regret and sighed brokenly. “I know.”

  “I was curious, is all, but you’re right, it was an insulting question.” He turned off the light and hunkered down under the covers.

  Sharon heard the even flow of his breathing.

  “Who knows what the future holds for any of us?” h
e whispered.

  “What about you?” She repositioned herself so she was on her back. They lay side by side, each staring up at the ceiling, being careful not to touch one another. “Will you remarry?”

  “I doubt it,” he answered after a thoughtful pause. “I’ve loved you all these years. I…I can’t imagine loving somebody else…. But then, like I said earlier, who knows what the future holds? Not me. Definitely not me.”

  Chapter 23

  Swallowing angry words is much more palatable than having to eat them afterward.

  —Mrs. Miracle

  Emily Merkle poured herself a cup of freshly brewed tea and made herself comfortable at the kitchen table. A slow, easy smile spread across her face as she gave herself a mental pat on the back. Everything was falling neatly into place. Seth and Reba were thick as thieves; she glanced heavenward and asked pardon for the analogy. Certainly they had enormous problems to work out, given Reba’s troubles with her sister and Seth’s obsession with the past, but her prayer was that love would see them through all that.

  She wasn’t nearly as comfortable with what was happening between Sharon and Jerry. Those two were stubborn, equally at fault, each willing to blame the other. But when Jerry showed up in search of his wife, Emily had hope. Sharon was mature enough to recognize that there was nothing going on between her husband and best friend. The love between those two wasn’t as dead as they wanted to believe.

  Harriett Foster…Well, Harriett still needed a bit of work. Nothing major, just a little heavenly illumination. It might take a direct message from the Almighty to reach the widow. The poor dear. She hadn’t a clue of how she muddied the good name of God with her righteousness.

  “Do you always wait to do your Christmas shopping until the last minute?” Reba asked Seth, who was pushing the cart through the impossibly crowded toy store. Music blared in the background, loudly enough to drown out her thoughts or, more appropriately, the cries of the children. High on sugar and excitement, kids ran helter-skelter down the aisles. With Christmas in the middle of the week this was the last weekend left to shop, and everyone in the Seattle metropolitan area, it seemed, had descended upon the toy store. There appeared to be a run on Barbie’s playhouses. Reba saw several desperate parents waving fistfuls of money over their heads, hoping to persuade the clerk to be merciful toward them.

 

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