Mrs. Miracle 01 - Mrs. Miracle(70)
Sharon felt herself blush and groaned with embarrassment. “What will Seth think of us?”
“He’ll think I’m the luckiest man alive, and he’ll be right.”
“Oh, Jerry, we’ve been such fools.”
“No more. We’re both going to have to work at this. It isn’t a fifty-fifty proposition with us. It’s a hundred percent and nothing less. Talking about when we were young and first married was the kick in the pants I needed. If you want to cruise to the Orient, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thank you, but I insist we go through the Panama Canal first. You’ve been talking about it for years. You deserve this, and I want to share the experience with you.”
He rubbed his jaw along the top of her head. “There’s no shopping in the Canal,” he reminded her.
“I’ll survive.” She could live without buying T-shirts and pottery, but she couldn’t live without Jerry. “Now what was all this business about you having Chinese food for lunch?”
He went still and quiet. “I’m not entirely sure myself. I guess in my own way I was looking for a way to be close to you again. I had a miserable afternoon. The movies weren’t nearly as enjoyable without you sitting there with me. I didn’t even buy popcorn.”
Sharon smiled to herself.
“While I’m at it, I might as well confess that I don’t dislike walnuts nearly as much as I made out. I prefer almonds and cashews, but a walnut isn’t as repugnant to me as I let on.”
“Then why…?”
“I’d had a bad game of golf and was sick and tired of sleeping alone.”
“I overreacted,” Sharon conceded. “It was a bit dramatic of me to insist you cook your own meals.”
“It taught me a lesson,” Jerry said, and rubbed his hand down her bare arm. “I won’t complain again for a long time.”
“Good thing.”
He chuckled, then grew serious. “If we’ve decided to make a go of our marriage, we can’t be tossing the option of divorce in each other’s faces again. It’s too dangerous.”
Sharon agreed. Bringing up the subject had been like opening a Pandora’s box, creating more problems than it solved. Once she’d started thinking of leaving Jerry, her mind had justified her decision. Everything he said or did was further evidence that their love was dead.
“I love you, Jerry Palmer.” The tears were back in her voice, only this time they were evidence of her happiness.
“I love you, Sharon Palmer. Forever.”
Chapter 29
God gave the angels wings and humans chocolate.
—Mrs. Miracle
The twins were down, and Sharon and Jerry had headed for bed at a ridiculously early hour, and now Seth was left alone to deal with his thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn’t forget the look of hurt and disillusionment on Reba’s face when she’d walked out the door.
But what she’d asked of him was impossible. He hadn’t touched a keyboard in four years. She seemed to believe he could pick up where he’d left off and play in public with less than twenty-four hours’ notice. Talk about unrealistic. Talk about absurd. She wasn’t even making sense.
He refused to think about it any longer. Having nothing better to do, Seth sat down in front of the television and reached for the remote control. He’d started to surf through the channels when Mrs. Merkle waltzed into the room with a feather duster.
“Don’t pay me any mind, Mr. Webster,” she said as she breezed past him. “With so much to do tomorrow, I want to finish up what housework I can this evening. I’ll be out of your way before you know it.”
Seth leaned his head against the cushion and waited patiently while she dusted off the top of the television. He noticed that she stood directly in front of the screen, blocking the view.
“Christmas Eve is almost upon us. My oh my, how the days fly by. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed how excited the twins are to be a part of the church program. They’re going to be the best little angels on God’s green earth. It would be a terrible letdown to them if the pageant had to be canceled.”
Seth frowned. He heard the censure in his housekeeper’s voice but didn’t know if it was real or imagined. He did notice that it seemed to be taking her an inordinate amount of time to dust.
“I feel so bad for Reba. I don’t know how she’ll ever find someone to play the piano at this late date.” She turned and looked deliberately at him.
“Emily, stop.”
She hesitated, the feather duster clenched in one hand. “Stop? You want me to stop dusting?”
“Yes.” His wishes were simple and direct. He’d suffered enough recriminations without his housekeeper adding to his guilt. “I’ll finish up myself later.”
“As you wish.”
She left, and Seth heaved a sigh of relief. He soon realized that he’d underestimated the woman the children called Mrs. Miracle. Before he could refocus his attention on the boob tube, Emily returned, this time with the vacuum cleaner in tow.
Without a pause she plugged it in and ran it across the carpet in front of him with the determination of a woman intent on wiping out the plague of household dust in her lifetime. It amazed him that the carpet remained glued to the floorboard.