Mrs. Miracle Page 0,61

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