“Yes, please do. I hope everything’s all right with your mother-in-law.”
“I hope so, too.”
The words echoed in his mind some forty minutes later as he was at Sea-Tac, waiting for Sharon to step out of the jetway. He knew the instant he saw her that something was drastically wrong. She looked straight past him, as pale as death, stricken and shell-shocked.
“Sharon.” He stepped forward and took the carry-on bag out of her hand.
She looked at him as if seeing a stranger. “Seth. Thank you for coming. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” She hugged him briefly, and he could tell she was struggling not to weep.
“It’s good to see you.” He studied her, wondering what had happened and how much he should urge her to tell him. “How much luggage do you have with you?” he asked, leading the way to the baggage claim area.
“Luggage…Oh, my, I don’t think I brought any. I have my carry-on, but I don’t seem to remember packing… I suppose I should have. No, I did have a suitcase, but I left it at the house. Oh, dear.”
“Don’t worry, you can buy whatever you need.”
Seth carried the conversation as they walked toward the parking garage. She answered him, but only when he asked a direct question, only when absolutely necessary.
Seth helped her into the car and stuck her carry-on bag on the backseat. As he set it on the cushion, the bag fell open, exposing one slipper and a novel. She’d come for the holidays, arriving ten days before Christmas, with one shoe? He closed his eyes, wishing he were better at handling this sort of situation. He wanted to help but feared he was grossly inadequate.
Once they were home, he placed Sharon’s bag in the spare bedroom and took the two heaping dinner plates out of the oven. He set them on the table and sat across from her. He might as well have served Sharon mowed lawn for all the interest she showed in it.
“How’s Jerry?” he ventured.
Her gaze narrowed, and tears moistened her eyes. “Fine, I suspect, just fine.”
“He’s in California?” No telling where Jerry was, with Sharon here.
“Yes.” She looked away.
“Is there a problem with you two?” he asked next, gently exploring with questions the way a physician carefully examines a painful wound.
Sharon was saved from answering when the phone rang loudly and unexpectedly. Seth answered it with a certain reluctance.
“Hello.”
“Is Sharon there?” his father-in-law asked without any preliminaries.
“Jerry?”
Sharon’s eyes rounded. “Don’t tell him I’m here.”
“I want to talk to my wife,” Jerry demanded, loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the room.
Seth’s mother-in-law squared her shoulders and glared across the room, her pain-filled eyes as sharp as the polished edge of a sword. “You can tell Jerry Palmer that as of twelve-thirty this afternoon, I ceased being his wife.”
Seth didn’t want to be trapped as a go-between in this situation. “Perhaps it would be better if you talked to him yourself.”
“No,” she said with conviction. “I don’t ever plan to talk to that man again. Maggie’s welcome to him.”
“Maggie!” Jerry exploded on the other end of the line. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Chapter 17
People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.
—Mrs. Miracle
Reba lay on the carpet next to the fireplace, her head propped against a decorator pillow, her legs bent and crossed and the phone cradled against her ear. Christmas music played softly in the background.
“I wish I’d been able to see you tonight,” Seth said, his voice low and seductive.
“I wish you could have, too.” She knew he was worried about his mother-in-law. “How’s Sharon?”
“Not good.” The unexpected arrival appeared to mystify him. “Jerry phoned, and the two got into a shouting match with me holding the phone. As best I can make out, Sharon saw him with another woman.”
Reba bit into her lower lip, remembering the time she’d walked in and discovered her fiancé and her sister together. The shock, the horror, and the pain of betrayal by two people she loved had overwhelmed her until it was all she could do to remember to breathe.
“Jerry would never cheat on Sharon,” Seth said confidently. “I’d bet my life on it. He’s just not the type.”
“Is Sharon the kind of woman who’d jump to conclusions?”