Mrs. Miracle 01 - Mrs. Miracle(20)

Everything was coming together nicely. Very nicely indeed.

The best was yet to be.



Emily had outdone herself, which was saying something, Seth mused following the evening meal. As time passed he’d come to realize that the children’s name for her fit her to a tee. Mrs. Miracle had worked wonders in all their lives.

As promised, Emily read to the children following their bath, while he washed the dishes.

He’d followed his housekeeper’s suggestion and stopped off at the travel agency. He’d be finished with the Firecracker Project in a couple of months and could use the time away. Although Judd and Jason had been to Disneyland a number of times, they’d never been to Florida. Reba had suggested a number of cruise ideas as well, with prices that fell easily within his budget. But it wasn’t the vacation plans that had brought him into the travel agency. It was the idea of meeting the owner, of talking to her one on one, getting to know her. Letting her know him.

Even now his heart raced like an Indy 500 engine. He bent forward and rested his elbows against the desktop and rubbed his hand down his face. He’d never experienced anything like this. Had never felt this strongly attracted to a woman—not since Pamela. He barely knew her name, and already he couldn’t wait to see her again.

“Reba.” He said her name aloud, thinking that the mere sound of it was musical. Magical.

Seth was convinced that he’d made a first-class idiot of himself, staring at her the way he had. He’d hardly seemed able to connect one coherent thought to another.

Some self-preservation had kicked into place when he’d realized he’d been standing in front of her desk staring at her the way a boy does a puppy in a pet shop window. When he’d finally had the presence of mind to ask about vacations for him and the twins, Reba had seemed as flustered as he. She’d promised to put together several ideas and get back to him.

He’d walked out of the agency, taking small backward steps until he’d backed into the door. It wasn’t until he’d raced across the parking lot and was sitting inside his vehicle that he’d realized he hadn’t given her his name or phone number. He’d started back to leave the necessary information when she’d met him in the parking lot.

“I need—”

“Could you…Dinner. Friday night?”

His heart returned to his throat at the awkward way in which he’d asked her to dinner. He was certain she hadn’t understood a word he’d said until she’d laughed and nodded. They’d set a time to meet and he’d hurried back to his car, his heart jumping rope inside his chest.

He had a date, his first in longer than he could remember. All he had to do now was behave like a human instead of an alien from outer space. Excitement swelled like a water-soaked sponge inside him.

Seth started for his study with a fresh cup of coffee, then hesitated. He needed to ask Mrs. Merkle if she would be available to baby-sit the twins Friday evening. There weren’t provisions in her contract for weekend baby-sitting. Naturally he’d pay her overtime, whatever she wanted. The woman was worth ten Mrs. Hampstons.

With his coffee in his hand he walked into the living room, to find the children snuggled one on each side of the housekeeper. Her reading glasses were balanced halfway down her nose, a book open. The children were enraptured. The only time Seth had ever seen them this still was when they were sound asleep.

Jason braced his head against the housekeeper’s pudgy arm. Judd’s arms were tucked about his bent knees, and his chin rested there.

It took Seth a couple of moments to recognize the story: it was C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Pamela’s favorite childhood story. The one she’d longed to read to her children one day, only to be cheated out of the long awaited joy.

Mrs. Merkle glanced up and smiled.

“Hi, Daddy.” Jason covered his mouth and yawned loudly. “Mrs. Miracle is reading us a new story.”

“So I see.” Some of his tension leaked into his voice. Of all the books in the world, he wondered how it was that she’d chosen that particular one.

“It’s good, too,” Judd added. “None of that mushy girl stuff.”

Seth’s gaze fell to the book itself. Moments earlier his heart had raced with thoughts of Reba and the impromptu dinner date he’d arranged. Now it skidded to a sudden, grinding halt. His chest tightened painfully.

“Where’d you get that book?” he demanded, not bothering to disguise his distress.

“The book.” Mrs. Merkle closed the volume and stared at the front cover. “It’s mine. I brought it with me.”

“It’s Pamela’s,” he countered sharply. The woman had been in his den and had searched through his desk drawers. He didn’t care how good a cook she was, he wouldn’t have her sneaking around in his office.

“Mr. Webster, let me assure you—”

“I’ll prove it,” he said, his voice rough with shock and anger. Without another word he marched back into his office and sat down at the desk he’d recently vacated. The children raced into the room after him, and Mrs. Merkle followed, looking flustered and red in the face.

“I put it here myself just recently,” he said, jerking open the bottom drawer. He’d held that very book in his hands. Seen for himself how the corners had frayed and worn down so that the filler showed through, just the way the one she had did. The gold lettering had faded on the title, the same as with the book Mrs. Merkle held.