“You might stop after work in the next day or so. It isn’t too early to book now for springtime,” she continued, concentrating on peeling the apples.
“I’ll need to think on it,” he stated matter-offactly, making sure no emotion bled into his voice.
“Don’t wait too long. He who hesitates misses the worm.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you miss, just that you’re going to be missing. Right?”
“I suppose,” Seth said, and moved into the family room, where Judd had already turned on the television. It was a relief to focus his attention on the sporting event rather than dwell on Mrs. Merkle’s uncanny suggestions.
Chapter 8
Pick your friends, but not to pieces.
—Mrs. Miracle
“We did it,” Jayne announced triumphantly when she walked into work bright and early Monday morning. Reba had been at the office since seven, going over the books, checking the finances. The profit margin on the travel agency was so narrow that she had to keep close tabs on expenses.
She glanced up from the computer screen. “Did what?”
“Escaped Aunt Harriett. She didn’t corner me in church, thanks to you.” Jayne’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Naturally I screened my calls all day, and yes, Aunt Harriett did try a number of times, but I thwarted her. We thwarted her,” Jayne amended.
Reba chewed on the end of her pen. She hadn’t been able to take her mind off Seth Webster from the moment she’d seen him in church. A little investigative work had helped dig up a few cherished facts. First and foremost was his first name and the fact he’d remained single following his wife’s death.
He had two children. Six-year-old twins. Apparently there was a housekeeper, too, one the children referred to as Mrs. Miracle. The one who’d made a point of making eye contact with her. The woman seemed a bit unusual. She looked perfectly normal, an older version of Mary Poppins. Twinkling eyes, a mischievous smile, a look about her that said she knew far more than she let on. Reba suspected she was reading too much into that pointed look the Websters’ housekeeper had sent her, but it had given her an uncanny feeling.
“What’s with you and Mr. Webster?” Jayne shocked her by asking. It was almost as if her employee had read her mind.
“What’s with me and…Nothing! How could there be? I don’t even know the man.” Reba attempted to hide how flustered the question made her, but it was obvious by the way her hands fluttered over the keyboard.
“But you’d like to know him.”
It would do no good to pretend otherwise. Reba lifted one delicate shoulder. “I suppose…”
“I wish you could have seen the way your eyes lit up when you first saw him. Even Cindy noticed.”
Reba’s face colored.
Jayne hung up her coat and sat down at the desk across from her. “You know what I’ve been thinking?”
Reba hadn’t a clue, and furthermore she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. “You intend to tell me whether I want to know or not, right?”
Jayne chuckled. “You guessed it.”
Reba waited. Jayne glanced at her almost as if she were afraid to speak. “The church needs an adult, someone who’s good with children, to step in and oversee the Christmas pageant.”
“Yes, and your wonderfully generous aunt Harriett volunteered you. Remember?”
“I’m not the right person.” Jayne’s objection was adamant. “But I know someone well suited to the task. A woman who’s familiar with overseeing large projects. Someone with infinite patience, flexible hours, and a love of children. Someone who sings like a dream.”
Reba shook her head before Jayne got around to making the suggestion. She raised both hands to stop her friend from continuing. “Don’t even say it.”
“You, Reba Maxwell. You’re the perfect choice.”
This was all a bad joke. Limitless patience, her? Besides, Reba knew next to nothing about children, zilch about the Christmas program and what it entailed, and although she liked children, her experience with them was limited to her teenage baby-sitting years. She’d be an idiot to step into the coordinator’s role with less than a month before Christmas.
“You’re wrong, Jayne. I’m flattered you think so highly of my talents, but in this case it’d never work.”
“You want to meet Mr. Webster, don’t you?”
She hesitated.
“What better way than to involve yourself with his children?”