past - everyone makes mistakes. I have. You have. Wouldn't it make life less complicated if you could forgive your sister and get on with your life?"
Reba laughed, the scratchy sound as full of sarcasm as she could make it. "No way. If she's miserable with the way matters are between us, all the better. It's what she deserves."
"Doug, I told you it wouldn't do any good." Vicki reached out and touched her husband's arm. A look of hopelessness came over her face, and she was about to turn away when she stopped and raised her gaze to meet Seth's.
Reba bristled. Her sister had already stolen one man from her, she'd be damned if she'd let her take another. She was about to say something ugly when Vicki spoke, only this time her comment was directed to Seth.
"Make her happy," she whispered. "Make her forget." With tears glistening in her eyes, she walked away.
Doug remained a moment longer. "You're a fool," he said.
Again Reba was forced to restrain herself from reminding her brother-in-law that he'd married a woman who was as likely to betray him as she had her own flesh and blood. If he wanted to talk about fools, perhaps he should take a close look at his own life.
Not until her sister and family were out of sight did Reba lower her guard. The starch went out of her then, and all at once her knees felt like mush. She exhaled slowly and lowered her head, struggling to regain her composure.
"Are you all right?" Seth asked.
She lied and nodded. Her fingers tightened about his arms, cutting into his flesh. "Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For not saying anything, for standing at my side." If she'd had the strength and the wherewithal, she would have turned and walked away the instant Vicki had spoken to her. Even now she couldn't explain why she hadn't. She'd stood and talked to her sister the way some people linger, fascinated, with the morbid.
Seth's arm tightened about her as if he'd instinctively recognized her need. He kissed the top of her head and whispered something she couldn't hear. Something about sincerity. That was when the trembling started, so badly that she was sure others could hear her knees knocking.
"Maybe we should find someplace to sit down," he suggested.
She nodded, barely conscious of what she'd agreed to. "That might be a good idea."
By luck the toy store had a small snack bar and a few tables. Seth found her a seat, left her momentarily, and returned with a cup of hot, steaming coffee. "Can I get you anything else?"
"I'm fine." She refused to allow her sister to ruin this special time Christmas shopping with Seth. Every minute they could squeeze out of their already tight schedules to be together was precious.
Seth stood behind her and rubbed her tired, tense shoulder muscles. "Are you going over to your parents' on Christmas?" he asked.
"No," she stated emphatically, stunned that he would ask. Despite Vicki's assurances, she didn't trust her sister, couldn't. Vicki had proved exactly how untrustworthy she could be. "I'm spending the day with you, remember?" she added, turning to smile up at him.
"I'd enjoy meeting your family." The suggestion was made in gentle tones, as though he feared upsetting her.
He wasn't making this easy. "Another time."
"Okay," he agreed softly.
She'd thought he'd understood. Thought he'd appreciated her reasons for having nothing to do with her older sibling. Reba had carried the shame of her sister's betrayal while her family had gathered around Vicki as if she were the injured one. The old hurts, the old pain, returned.
Seth reached for a chair, positioned it in front of her, and straddled it. "Reba, don't you see? You're the one who's suffering. You're denying yourself the pleasure of visiting your uncle and aunt."
"I'll see them another time," she returned tightly.
"That wasn't what you told me after the dinner with your mother. As I recall, you were upset because this may well be the last time you have a chance to visit them. They're getting on in years, remember?"
Reba longed to place her hands over her ears and block out his words. It wasn't what he said. She had no defense because common sense told her he was right. She had no argument; she stood on sinking ground and knew it.
This grudge she carried against her sister had hurt her and would continue to do so. Her sister, the wife and mother. Her sister, the wonderful, generous daughter, the mother