Mrs. Miracle Page 0,75

and regret that filled her mother's eyes were immediate. "But why? I thought...we all did. You two are so good together...."

"You don't know that," Reba challenged. "You've never even met him."

"I don't need to. I saw the difference in you."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Reba muttered.

"Oh, Reba," her mother murmured sadly, "there are so many things you don't know."

"Then tell me," she challenged, waving her arms in the air. She was tired of hearing it, tired of having her mother throw it in her face, as if any excuse she offered would change the way she felt.

"It involves your sister." Her look was skeptical, as if she expected Reba to stop her. The assumption was a fair one. Her mother had attempted to talk some sense into her plenty of times before, and Reba had refused to listen.

"Doesn't everything?"

Joan briefly closed her eyes, as if praying for patience.

"Are you going to tell me again how very sorry Vicki is?"

"No," she responded, pressing her lips together tightly. "There's no denying Vicki did something foolish."

"There are a number of other adjectives I'd like to add, but won't."

"Good. I appreciate that. She's paid dearly for her mistake...."

Reba sighed. "If you're going to tell me she's suffered enough, I don't want to hear it."

Her mother ignored the comment. "After you found Vicki with John she came to your father and me and told us what she'd done. She blamed herself, was sick with regret."

"Yes, well, it wasn't exactly a picnic for me, either."

"No, but you dealt with it in an adult manner. In the beginning at any rate," she amended.

Reba's head came back with surprise.

"Vicki didn't. I don't know what happened that night, but I strongly suspect, as does your father, that John seduced her."

There it was again, the willingness to offer excuses for her sister.

"I know what you're thinking," her mother announced stiffly, "but we were the ones who dealt with the aftermath of that night, as far as Vicki's concerned."

Reba couldn't believe her ears. Her mother made it sound as if canceling the wedding had been some kind of picnic for her. True, she'd left town almost immediately, but who could blame her?

"Your sister ended up in the hospital." The words were low and filled with pain. "She attempted suicide the day that was supposed to have been your wedding day."

Reba's breath jammed in her throat. Vicki had attempted suicide? "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Only a handful of people know about it. Vicki made me promise that I'd never tell you, and until now I've kept my word. I wouldn't discuss it now except that I'm desperate. Your sister isn't the same person she was back then. Not anymore."

"We all change," Reba said, unwilling to allow this information to influence her attitude.

Joan sighed. "You can be so stubborn, Reba. I'd like to blame your father for that obstinate streak of yours, but I fear you get it from my side of the family as well." She smiled sadly, acknowledging her lame joke, then went on.

"Vicki was in counseling for a long time afterward. You refused to forgive her, and she had to learn to deal with that along with everything else. With time, therapy, and a sympathetic counselor, she was able to forgive herself. Shortly afterward she met Doug."

The silence that followed was unwelcome. Apparently her mother was looking for her to make some charitable comment, but unfortunately she was all out of charity. "Okay, you've told me, and I've listened, but it changes nothing."

The sadness and dejection in her mother's eyes was almost enough to make Reba capitulate. "Somehow I didn't think it would," Joan mumbled. She reached for her purse and stood. "Actually the reason I stopped by was to tell you that your father, Gerty and Bill, and I plan to attend the Christmas Eve program. They want to be able to spend some time with you, no matter how limited."

Reba nodded. Terrific. The pressure to put on a memorable pageant had just increased a hundredfold.

"I hope everything works out for you, sweetheart." Joan paused at the door. "And I'm not just talking about the Christmas program."

Reba desperately needed someone to play the piano. Someone who knew the routine. Someone who'd attended the practices and knew the nuances of timing as well as she did.

Seth.

The instant his name flashed into her mind, Reba knew it was divine inspiration. He'd been to almost every practice. He'd sat in the back of the church activity room and had even