The oven timer beeped.

Sharon had no defense, and rather than answer him, she removed the last cookie sheet from the oven. She stared at the perfectly shaped cookies, with the chocolate chips bright and melting. After only a moment's hesitation she dumped them straight into the garbage.

"What'd you do that for?" Jerry demanded, irritation raising his voice half an octave.

"You don't like walnuts," she reminded him, doing her best to keep the hurt out of her voice. "I'd hate to force you to eat something not to your liking."

The microwave beeped, and Jerry grabbed the plate before she had a chance to take that away from him as well.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded. His gaze narrowed as he studied her intently. "Did you take your hormones this morning?"

"Forty years, and not once did you tell me you don't like walnuts." The words were an accusation of all that was wrong with their marriage.

"I don't hate them," he argued. He walked over to the kitchen cabinet where she kept her medication, removed the bottle, and shook it before putting it back. "Maybe that's what the problem is."

"The only problem I have is you, Jerry Palmer."

His eyes rounded as he slapped his hand over his heart. "You think I'm your problem? Sweetheart, you'd better take a look in the mirror. If there's problems in this family, I'm not the one-"

"If you don't like the way I cook, maybe you should do your own cooking," she challenged.

"Maybe I should," Jerry countered. "I've cooked my own breakfast all week."

"Great, now you can try your hand at lunch and dinner as well."

"No problem."

Sharon slammed the mitt down on the counter. "I'm sure it won't be." She stalked past him and made her way into the guest bedroom. Sitting at the end of the twin mattress, she intertwined her fingers in an attempt to still the trembling in her hands.

She wasn't a woman who often succ.u.mbed to tears, but they blurred her eyes now. Tilting her head back, she blinked furiously, refusing to let them fall, refusing to allow her pain to roll free.

She was the emotionally strong one in the family. Not until Pamela's death did she realize how strong. When they'd heard the terrible news, Jerry had withdrawn behind a brick wall of pain, unwilling and perhaps afraid to reveal his anguish. Seth had been in shock, blinded by grief and fear of what would happen to him and the children without Pamela. and fear of what would happen to him and the children without Pamela.

So everyone had turned to her. She was the one who had made the funeral arrangements. She was the one others had turned to for comfort and help. She was emotionally strong. Calm. A pillar on which others could lean.

The base of that pillar was crumbling now, Sharon realized, and threatening to collapse.

The knot blocking her throat felt as big as a watermelon. She'd started out her day with such good intentions, hoping to bridge the gap between her and Jerry, but he wanted none of it.

She lay down on the bed, pulled a blanket over her shoulders, and stared at the wall.

Forty years and she never knew Jerry didn't like walnuts.

Forty years was a h.e.l.l of a long time to live with a man and never know he liked his spaghetti with meatb.a.l.l.s.

Some time later Sharon heard a sound, but she didn't move her gaze away from the wall to investigate.

"d.a.m.n it, Sharon, say something."

She could picture Jerry framed in the doorway, but she hadn't the strength or the will to pull her attention away from the blank wall.

"I'm talking to you," he said again.

She'd heard all she wanted to from him. More than she'd needed to know.

"The h.e.l.l with you, then," Jerry muttered, and stalked away.

Forty years she'd invested in this marriage, in this man. She'd kept his home, borne him children, molded her life to fit his. Forty years and they could barely tolerate one another.

To h.e.l.l with her, then, Jerry had said. That was exactly where she felt she was. h.e.l.l.

Seth had never intended to stay for the Christmas program practice. He'd thought to drop the boys off at the church and head home to catch up on some job-related reading. Besides, he wanted to be there when Mrs. Merkle returned. They had several matters to discuss.

His head had been spinning ever since his conversation with Mrs. Ackerman. If the employment agency hadn't sent Mrs. Merkle, who had? He proposed to find out at the earliest opportunity.

The twins were excited about their part in the Christmas pageant and had chatted like magpies during the short drive to the church. When he'd arrived, Seth had impulsively decided to park and go inside. He'd stay just long enough to say h.e.l.lo to Reba, thank her for their dinner date, and be on his way.

That's what he'd told himself he'd do, but the minute he'd entered the room, he'd felt compelled to sit back and watch Reba manage the children. For a single woman with limited experience working with kids, she did a masterful job. Two or three other women were there to lend a hand, but it was Reba who was in charge. children. For a single woman with limited experience working with kids, she did a masterful job. Two or three other women were there to lend a hand, but it was Reba who was in charge.

The practice started out with all the children grouped together. Mrs. Foster was there as well, tight-lipped and looking miserable as she banged away on the piano keys without much finesse. He grimaced a couple of times at her basic lack of talent.

To the best of his memory, Seth had never seen the older woman smile. Half the time she looked as if she'd been sucking on something bitter.

The children, while familiar with the songs, gave it a halfhearted effort. Their voices blended nicely, but from the back of the room, Seth couldn't understand the words. Reba's shoulders sagged, and she said something that made everyone laugh. The next attempt was much better.

A few minutes later she broke the group into three sections to rehea.r.s.e their individual roles. Seth decided to wait until Judd and Jason came on the scene. Judd may have been a.s.signed the role of an angel, but he burst onto the stage with the shepherds watching over their sheep like Rambo intent on revenge. All he needed was a submachine gun for a prop. Jason followed and growled like a lion.

Reba handled the situation well, reminding his six-year-old sons that they weren't there to frighten anyone. Their mission, if they chose to accept it, was to tell the shepherds wonderful, exciting news. Judd and Jason smiled and nodded. frighten anyone. Their mission, if they chose to accept it, was to tell the shepherds wonderful, exciting news. Judd and Jason smiled and nodded.

The boys second attempt was much better. Judd's voice bellowed out loud and clear as he shared the wondrous news.

Before Seth realized it, the hour was gone. The twins raced to his side the minute they'd finished. Seth waited until most of the other kids were gone before he approached Reba. He felt a bit awkward, hiding in the back of the room that way, but had derived a good deal of pleasure just watching her.

He was afraid that he'd built up their date in his mind, made more of it than he should have. But as he moved toward her, he realized if anything, he'd discounted his attraction for her. Reba was patient and kind. Her rapport with the kids had been instantaneous, and he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her for the entire hour. He wasn't succeeding now, either.

"It looks like everything's going great," he commented, understating what should have been obvious.

She sank onto a chair and rubbed her hand along the back of her neck. "You think so?"

"You've got the entire program organized."

"I can't take the credit for that. Milly Waters worked with me. I'm just following her example."

Judd sank onto the floor next to her, staring up at her as if memorizing her features. "She looks like the lady in my picture," he announced with childlike enthusiasm. like the lady in my picture," he announced with childlike enthusiasm.

"Judd," Seth warned in a whisper. If his son embarra.s.sed him by suggesting he marry Reba, he didn't know what he'd do.

"Not exactly like the lady, but real close," Jason said before Seth had a chance to quiet him.

"It's time to go," he stated with an eagerness that bordered on panic.

The twins and Reba looked saddened and surprised by his abrupt announcement.

"Not so soon, Dad."

"What picture?" Reba asked, looking from Judd to Jason.

"It's nothing," Seth said, wanting to be on his way before the twins embarra.s.sed him further.

"Judd drew a picture of a woman with short hair and a red dress," Jason explained when it became obvious his father wasn't going to explain.

"The woman in my drawing looks a lot like you," Judd said, his eyes bright and eager.

Seth urged both his children toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said, hoping against hope to make a clean getaway.

"Tomorrow?" Jason perked up instantly.

"Ms. Maxwell is coming to the house for dinner," he explained, and remembered that he hadn't said anything to Mrs. Merkle about inviting company.

"Good-bye, Ms. Maxwell."

"Good-bye, everyone."

Seth heaved a sigh of relief as they headed toward the door. "She does look like the lady in Judd's picture," Jason said, and slipped his small hand into his. He seemed to be waiting for Seth to respond.

"A little," he admitted reluctantly.

Jason looked over his shoulder and sighed expressively before calling out in a loud voice, "I hope you do marry my dad."

"I beg your pardon?" Reba said.

"My dad," Judd shouted. "We hope you marry him."

Chapter 15

Scatter sunshine.-Mrs. Miracle

The phone pealed just as Reba started out the door Sunday morning for church. She was tempted not to answer, afraid it would be her mother. She hesitated, then quickly crossed the room and reached for the receiver. It might be important. It might be Seth.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Reba, sweetheart, I wondered if you'd be up and about."

Her mother. Reba gritted her teeth. She knew it would be more of this Christmas business, and she didn't want to discuss it again. Her mind was made up, and all the talk in the world wouldn't make her change it.

"h.e.l.lo, Mom," she said without any real enthusiasm. "Listen, I'm on my way out the door for church."

"Church." Joan Maxwell's voice swelled with approval. "You've got a couple of moments to spare for your mother, don't you?"

Reba wasn't given the chance to say no.

"You remember Betty Gleason, don't you?"

Reba didn't; impatiently she glanced at her watch. She was meeting Seth and didn't want to be late. "No, Mom, I'm afraid I don't."

"I attended the early church service and met up with Betty. She and Ernie were in this fancy Thai restaurant in Federal Way and she thought she saw you with a nice-looking young man."

Reba swore her mother had informants who routinely reported her activities. "That was Seth Webster," she said, making sure none of her feelings for the aeronautical engineer bled into her voice. It would be just like her mother to make more of this dinner date than there was.

"Seth Webster..." Joan Maxwell repeated the name slowly, as if saying it aloud magically released the information she craved. "Have you known him long?"

"Mother, I'm going to be late for church."

"Are you meeting Seth there?"

The woman was a mind-reader. "Yes, and-"

"I think it's a wonderful thing you're doing, taking over the Christmas program at the last minute like this. You always were good with children. You don't know how I've prayed that you'd get involved in the church again. I couldn't be more pleased." get involved in the church again. I couldn't be more pleased."

"Did I mention that I was on my way to church?" she asked pointedly, not that it would do much good. Reba knew her mother all too well. She was on a fact-finding mission and wouldn't let up until she'd ferreted out the information she sought.

"Tell me about Seth. Where'd you meet him? How long have you been dating?" All this came in one giant breath. "Betty claimed the two of you only had eyes for each other. She seemed to think the fire alarm could have gone off and neither of you would have noticed."

"Mother-"

"Betty claims it's clear that the two of you are serious. I do wish you'd said something to us before, sweetheart. It's a bit disconcerting, not to say embarra.s.sing, to have a family friend know more about what's going on in my own daughter's life than her own mother."

"Mom. Church."

"I know, I know, but the worship leaders generally start the service a few minutes past eleven. It won't hurt to be a couple of minutes late. We've barely had a chance to talk. You so rarely phone me." Her voice contained just the right amount of injury for Reba to experience a twinge of guilt. She did avoid calling her mother and for this very reason.

"Why don't we meet for lunch one day next week?" Reba suggested. She was as susceptible to guilt as the next person, and her mother knew all the right b.u.t.tons to punch. week?" Reba suggested. She was as susceptible to guilt as the next person, and her mother knew all the right b.u.t.tons to punch.

"Tomorrow," Joan Maxwell suggested. "I can't wait to hear all about Seth. I'll meet you at the agency at eleven-thirty. Don't plan to be back in the office for an hour, either, okay?" Having said that, she hung up.