Something like this was bound to happen, Reba thought as Jayne silently gathered her things and left the agency. She glanced over her shoulder on her way out the door, and Reba managed a brave smile.
“Don’t worry,” Jayne said, “everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.”
Reba didn’t believe that for an instant. She was supposed to go through this agony? Supposed to conjure up a piano player at the last minute? If she believed that, she’d have to accept that her sister was supposed to have ruined her wedding and her life. This was one of those clichéd comments she’d come to hate. It made no sense.
“Just remember, God doesn’t close a door without opening a window.”
The door closed, and Reba muttered, “Yeah, right.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, releasing her pent-up frustration.
It never failed. Just when she was beginning to see the light at the end of a tunnel, she discovered it was an oncoming train. Just when she was beginning to believe that she’d found a man who would love and accept her with all her faults and foibles, Seth revealed his true self.
He was like all the others, preaching love and forgiveness, telling her how much better it would be if she forgave Vicki. It hurt—far more than she cared to admit. She’d been so hopeful with Seth. She’d started to believe again. And trust. Still, she hadn’t said anything yet about ending their relationship. All the emotional strength she possessed would be focused on getting through Christmas and New Year’s. Afterward she’d deal with the situation with Seth, although there really wasn’t much to say or do. As far as she was concerned, it was over between them. Over before it started.
Their brief relationship wasn’t all that different from the others she’d had in the last four years. Only this time her heart had gotten involved. She cared about Seth, cared about his children.
Working with Judd and Jason, getting to know them, love them, would make parting all the more painful.
The bell over the door chimed, indicating that she had a customer. She looked up, expecting another last minute walk-in desperate for her to part the Red Sea and book Vegas on New Year’s. But it was much worse than that.
It was her mother.
“Hello, sweetheart.” Joan Maxwell strolled inside, as cheerful as a canary. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Reba returned with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
Her mother’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you got a year?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She pulled up a chair beside Reba’s desk and plunked herself down as if she intended to sit right there until all was right with the world once again.
“The piano player fell and broke her arm.” No need to mention that her jaw was out of commission. It was her arm that mattered. At her mother’s blank look, Reba continued, “The Christmas program, remember?”
“I’m sure there are other people in the church who’re qualified.”
“It’s not that simple, Mother.” Such matters rarely were. “First off, no one else has practiced with the children or knows the songs. It’s more than just pounding out a few numbers on the keyboard. It’s knowing when to play, giving the children their cues, and playing the background music. It’s…everything.”
“Oh, dear, you do have a problem, don’t you?”
For the first time in recent memory her mother wasn’t trivializing her troubles. Reba was grateful enough to comment. “Thanks, Mom.”
Joan suddenly looked unsure and flustered. “Thanks for what? I can’t help you. I would if I could, you know that, but I don’t have any musical ability. Why, I don’t even know where middle C is on a piano.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Reba explained.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, but Reba forgave her that.
“Can I help you with something, Mom?” She didn’t think this was a social call.
Her mother smoothed out her skirt, brushing her hand down the length of her thigh. “I understand…actually Doug was the one who brought it up…that you bumped into your sister.”
“Yes,” Reba answered shortly. She’d been hoping the conversation wouldn’t turn to Vicki, the way it always did when she was with her mother. Just once she’d like it if they could talk without involving her sister. Just once. It shouldn’t be too much to ask.
“Vicki said you looked well and happy.”