Mrs. Miracle Page 0,27

them slept well when the other was away. It had happened so rarely that they'd talked about it for days afterward, cuddled each other each night, grateful for the warm feel of one another.

"Are you suggesting," she said, not allowing the hurt to show, "that you want me to move into the guest bedroom?"

The question appeared to take Jerry by surprise. He froze and then quietly set aside his mug. "You said yourself you slept better without me."

That wasn't true in the least. She'd grossly exaggerated her comfort. "I'm asking you if you want me to move out of our bedroom, Jerry. Quit avoiding the issue."

His shoulders rose and fell sharply. "All I'm saying is that you seem to sleep better there than with me."

"Do you want me to move out of the bedroom or don't you?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "Do as you like."

She swallowed tightly and stiffened her spine. "I'll move, then."

"Suit yourself. You seem to anyway. Why should this be any different?"

Having said that, he headed for the garage.

Sharon stood frozen as she heard the garage door whirl open and then a few moments later close again. The painful tightening in her chest ached as she battled back the need to cry.

So that was the way it was to be. After dumping the rest of her coffee into the sink, she rushed to the master bedroom, threw open the closet, and scooped up as many clothes as she could carry. With her arms loaded, dresses dangling, metal hangers cutting into her fingers, she all but stumbled into the guest bedroom and dumped everything on top of the mattress.

The room that at one time had belonged to Pamela. Her dead daughter. It seemed fitting that this was where Sharon would live out the last days of her marriage. Forty years and sinking fast.

Forty years and dying.

Chapter 11

Words are windows to the heart.

- Mrs. Miracle

The blue dress. No, the red one. Reba couldn't decide. Both were festive, one in silk, the other in a lightweight wool. She'd tried on the two outfits at least a dozen times, those dresses and everything else inside her closet, including a couple of items left over from her college days.

This wasn't an ordinary dinner date. This was an evening to be spent with Seth Webster. She closed her eyes and cradled her arms around her middle, breathing in deeply as she contemplated what was in store for her.

Disillusionment, no doubt, Reba decided. She'd set herself up for a major disappointment and knew it. Brad Pitt himself couldn't live up to the fantasy she'd created in her mind with Seth. He was her dream man. Why she'd picked him out of all the men she saw in the strip mall parking lot, she couldn't even begin to guess. Theories had bounced around her mind all week, and she'd dissected and examined them until she couldn't think straight any longer. She'd worried and stewed over this one date more than she had over her high school prom.

She wanted everything to be perfect: her dress, her hair, her...attitude. For one night, one short period of time, she longed to place the hurts of the past behind her, forget that the two people she'd loved most in the world had betrayed her. Forget that this one act had colored the way she'd looked at all relationships since.

For this one night she wanted to pretend her heart hadn't been stricken. That she was footloose, carefree. That she was capable of dreaming again and having those dreams come true.

The doorbell chimed. Panic set in, and Reba glanced at her watch as her heart bounded to her throat like a bouncing basketball. It had to be Seth. Not so soon. Not already.

She calmed herself, then opened the front door and let him inside her home. If she'd gone to trouble to look her best - and she had - then Seth had, too. His hair was freshly cut, she noticed, and he'd donned a crisp-looking business suit.

"You didn't say where we were dining," she commented as he helped her on with her coat.

"I didn't know," he admitted, and chuckled. "I ended up getting a couple of suggestions from my housekeeper. She made the reservations. I hope you like Thai food. If not..."

"It's my favorite." It'd been months since she'd eaten at a Thai restaurant, and it sounded perfect. Perfect.

Although they were both a bit nervous at first, the uneasiness soon disappeared, and as Seth drove to the restaurant they