Mistletoe Baby

by Tanya Michaels

  David shuddered. “That would be bad.”

  After Tanner left, David rifled through the junk drawer in the kitchen, looking for the delivery number for that pizzeria Rachel liked.

  The girl who answered confirmed his name and asked, “Is this 820 Pine?”

  “Yes, but I’d actually like to get this delivered to another address…”

  “I HAVE A proposition,” he blurted as soon as she opened the door.

  Rachel looked heavenward. “This can’t be good.”

  “You’re such a glass-half-empty person.”

  “It’s called being a realist.” Her voice was dry but amusement danced in her eyes. “It helps offset people like you who occasionally suffer delusions of grandeur.”

  “Well, see there, we balance each other out,” he said as he came inside.

  He was glad to see that her cheeks had some nice color to them. She looked girlishly comfortable in a pair of pink drawstring pants and a T-shirt, far healthier than she had when he’d seen her right after her bout of morning sickness. He’d had so much to think about today that their daybreak encounter seemed like eons ago. Let’s try this again. This time, without his good intentions devolving into an argument.

  Rachel was waiting expectantly, her arms folded across her chest. Watching her, he couldn’t help recalling the doctor’s question about whether her breasts were sensitive…and Rachel’s near-blush when she’d answered. And how long it had been since he’d really touched her. Their spontaneous kiss on Saturday had only whetted his appetite for more.

  He should probably stop thinking about that. He should also stop staring at the round, full swell of her breasts beneath the lightweight cotton.

  “David? You had something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Move back home.”

  “What? But-”

  “Not with me,” he clarified. “I’ll stay here.”

  She walked into the living room, and he followed. He would have liked to sit with her on the couch, but that would put him in maddening proximity to those wonderful curves. He chose a striped wing chair instead.

  “It’s quiet,” he noted.

  “The dogs are out back.” She tucked her feet up under her. “Either they didn’t hear you approach, or they’ve just gotten used to you.”

  “I think they like me,” he said. “Which works out nicely since I’m proposing you let me take care of them.”

  She shook her head, her smile rueful. “You’re just not happy without others to look after, are you? It seems irresponsible to dump them on you. I made a promise to Winnie.”

  “That her animals would be in good hands, and they will be. You’d be more comfortable at home, wouldn’t you? Sleeping in your own bed.” He lightened his tone. “Or at least hurling in the privacy of your own bathroom.”

  “Ew.”

  “No offense to Winnie, but her mutts aren’t the most disciplined in the world. Just look at last week when you tried to walk them and Hildie got away.” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d made a tactical misstep. Rachel was scowling. “Of course, that could have happened to anyone.”

  “Probably not to you,” she grumbled.

  “Never mind. What happened the other morning wasn’t really my point, I was just grasping for an example. What about the cat? Isn’t there something about pregnant women not being around litter boxes? And what if one of those dogs jumped up on you? Rach.” He glanced at her belly, trying to imagine what it would look like as it expanded with their child, wishing he could kiss her right above her belly button. “According to Dr. McDermott, everything looks great with the pregnancy. Why take any unnecessary chances, even small ones?”

  Rachel hesitated, obviously pondering the points he’d made. Then she laughed. “Does it ever get exhausting, being right all the time? Still…I feel weird about swapping places without Winnie’s permission.”

  “I’ll be a model pet-care provider,” he swore.

  “There are five of them, counting the rabbit. The instructions were pretty lengthy.”

  He smiled, sensing victory. “We can talk about it over pizza. Which should be here in about five more minutes.”

  “David!” She laughed as she said it, a good sign.

  “I’ve missed your laugh,” he told her, knowing he was probably pushing his luck but unable to stop himself. “I’ve missed seeing you happy.”

  “I’ve missed being happy.”

  He sat forward. “And you think you will be without me?”

  “I don’t know. I know I wasn’t happy with who I became with you. That’s not blame,” she added quickly. “Not anymore. I was going through a lot and somehow ended up feeling like a second-class citizen. And logical or not, the resentment I was stifling turned me into someone petulant. Someone I don’t recognize and don’t want to become.”

  “I want to apologize,” he said slowly, determined not to repeat this morning when they’d each said whatever popped into their minds and left each other with fresh scars. “But it feels disingenuous when I’m confused about what I’m supposed to be sorry for. A second-class citizen? That’s…”

  “What, ridiculous?”

  Yes. “Everyone in Mistletoe knows how much I love you,” he insisted. “I went out of my way to do things for you.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I know. And yet you just proved my point. I tried to share something difficult and personal, something I’m not proud of, and your response, no matter how polite, was to tell me why I was wrong.”

  “That’s not what I was doing! You-” He broke off, catching himself that time. “Hmm.”

  She laughed, taking pity on him. “If you’re serious about taking care of the animals, follow me. I’ll show you where the rabbit is, and we’ll see if we can convince Arpeggio to come out from under whatever bed she’s chosen this time. Winnie said that the cat is still sulking about the puppy and has been fairly antisocial lately.”

  With the dogs outside, they were able to coax Arpeggio out from under the guest room bed. The tri-color cat hobbled out, its gaze curious but its ears twitching back with suspicion as it approached David. He waited patiently, stretching his hand out and sitting perfectly still until the cat rubbed up against his fingers. Then he began scratching her back in earnest, and the calico started purring.

  “See?” David said softly. “I’m not so bad.”

  Rachel sat on the carpet next to him. “I can’t believe I don’t know the answer to this, but did you have pets growing up?”

  “A few hamsters with short life spans,” he said. “Arianne had one of those beta fish. Dad’s allergic to cats and Mom’s allergic to dogs. They had a poodle when they were first married, but I don’t really remember her. What about you?”

  “My mom was dead set against pets and I never really thought much about it. But Hildie’s been growing on me, despite my occasionally wanting to throttle her. Maybe I’ll get a dog,” Rachel mused.

  Maybe I’ll get a dog. Ouch. It should have been something they’d done together. Why had he never considered during those long, frustrated months when she had so much love to give but no baby to lavish it upon, that she might appreciate a fuzzy friend who cuddled by her side when she was blue? Instead of just telling her to cheer up or have hope, he could have surprised her with a pet rescued from the local animal shelter. He’d asked himself-and her-what more he could have done, but maybe that was a cop-out. In retrospect, there was probably more he could have tried. Had he truly worked at staying emotionally connected with his wife or had he assumed, because of their vows, that she’d always be there?

  Till death do us part. A lofty goal, but had he really worked toward it the way he did other aspirations? He’d once coached four-year-olds in the community soccer program, and they were hysterical to watch. They understood the basics, that the ball was supposed to go into the goal, but some of them seemed to think those events would just unfold, as they milled around on the field, not really making the connection between what
they wanted to achieve and their own part in making it happen.

  Maybe Tanner would be a better husband than David had been. He’d lost Lilah once. Having to win her back helped ensure that he appreciated her worth, knew how miserable he’d been without her.

  David’s experience might be coming later in life, but he liked to think he was a quick study. “Hey, I talked to Tanner earlier. He wanted to ask us a favor.”

  “Does he need something for the wedding?”

  “Actually, no, he wanted to recruit us for some Christmas shopping.”

  “You mean he’s looking for help finding Lilah a present?”

  “He wanted to know if we’d go with them out of town this weekend for a holiday shopping spree.”

  The doorbell gonged, startling them both.

  “That’ll be the pizza.” David stood, reaching for the wallet in his jeans pocket. “Is it okay that I took care of dinner plans?”

  “In theory, it was high-handed.” She smiled up at him. “In practice, I am a pregnant woman who didn’t entirely realize how hungry she was or how tired she was getting until about ten minutes ago. And here you are, summoning food as if by magic. So you’re forgiven. This once.”

  He grinned over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs. “It’s a start.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rachel drove to the print shop the next morning feeling surprisingly rejuvenated. She’d dropped off to sleep as soon as David had left, and their dinner together had been…enjoyable. Almost relaxed, as if, with the strain of holding their marriage together lifted, they could just be themselves. In some ways, having the worst happen could be liberating. They’d agreed that he should take over the pet-sitting, but she’d been too tired to switch places with him last night.

  Tonight she’d go home. She still had mixed feelings about that, but she’d cope. She was already dealing with separating from David, the-happy-shock of being pregnant and compiling a mental list of the decisions she’d need to start making for herself and the baby. None of it was easy, but it wasn’t impossible, either.

  “Morning, May,” she called when she walked into work.

  Her boss waved her own hello over a mug of coffee. “Miss Popularity! You’ve already had two phone calls this morning.”

  “You’re kidding. Who from?”

  “Both from Gina Oster, at the chamber of commerce. Belle showed her some of the recommendations you made for future Christmas brochures, and they want to talk to you about some projects for the spring.” May grinned. “You’re not thinking of leaving me for greener pastures, are you?”

  “Don’t worry. I doubt a chamber the size of ours can afford much green,” Rachel said realistically. “But I can talk to them about some cheap independent contracting on the side.” She found herself really eager to return Gina’s call. While Rachel didn’t see the chamber as being a career move for her, it was exciting to think about ways she could use her talents to give back to the town. Mistletoe had given her so much.

  “Well, Gina’s in meetings until this afternoon. That’s why she was trying to reach you so early, but if you can help them get organized, I think it’s a wonderful idea. You’ve been such an asset to me.”

  Rachel was touched by the warm sincerity in the woman’s voice. “Thank you.”

  She’d spent so much time lately feeling under-utilized in her current career that she’d lost sight of how lucky she was. She worked for a nice person she genuinely liked, she didn’t have to wear panty hose and she wasn’t bogged down in meetings and corporate bureaucracy. And on particularly busy days, she helped balance a workload no person could manage alone.

  It shaped up to be one of those days. They printed a last-minute batch of flyers for the Winter Wonderland dance that would go up all over town, farmed out a rush order for some customized baseball caps, then printed and bound a series of booklets for an upcoming business retreat. She thought about the hiking vacation she’d taken here, the lodge that was just outside town and more rustic than the popular Mistletoe Inn. The chamber of commerce should do more to play up their appeal as a place to “come get away from it all…without having to go too far” for businessmen and even vacationing tourists.

  Mistletoe, a great place to bring the family. A great place to raise a family.

  “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

  She jumped about a foot, then turned to see David. Nonemployees weren’t allowed behind the counter where all the equipment was kept, but May would have made an exception to wave him back. “I thought I was alone. Just me and the forty booklets I promised to assemble by lunch.”

  David shoved his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t mean to startle you. In fact, I would have been happy just to stand here and watch.”

  “Watch me collate booklets? Make sure you stick around for the exciting encore of watching paint dry in the storeroom.”

  He laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re way more interesting than paint.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “You had a graceful rhythm going, complete with intermittent musical accompaniment. What were you whistling?” he asked.

  “I was whistling? I was just…thinking about family.”

  His gaze went instantly to her tummy then came back up to meet hers. “Excited about junior?”

  “Giddy,” she agreed. “But not just about that. I was sort of counting my blessings.”

  It wasn’t until he looked away that she saw how hurtful her words might be. Was it unseemly to seem so cheerfully content in front of the husband you’d recently left? She was content, though. For the first time in a long time, she was starting to believe that she’d be all right no matter what. That she could survive disappointments and missteps and pick herself up afterward. It was an empowering realization.

  “Well,” he said quickly. “I just came by to get Winnie’s key.”

  “Right.” Her duffel bags were packed and in the trunk of her car. She’d still feel better if she could talk with Winnie about it first, but shore-to-ship communications were spotty at best. She went to her purse and grabbed the bone-shaped key ring. “Here you go. If the dogs give you any trouble or you can’t find Arpeggio-”

  With a wicked grin, David cut her off. “I’ve got it all under control. If I do have any problems, I know where to find you.”

  She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at the role reversal. “Of course you’re completely competent. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “Believe me, I know the feeling.” He leaned forward, surprising her with a quick kiss on her cheek. “Pick you up Saturday?” It really didn’t make sense for them to drive separately to Lilah’s duplex just to pile into Tanner’s car once they arrived.

  Rachel nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.” She really was, not only to the fun of shopping and laughing with Lilah, but to being in David’s company again soon.

  Which meant either she and David were the most mature, well-adjusted couple ever to split or that her romantic feelings for her husband hadn’t cooled nearly as much as she’d let herself believe.

  WALKING into the house was like taking a one-way trip to Rachel’s past. She set her keys on the dented antique table in the front hall-they’d bought it for a great price at this little flea market because of scratches on the surface. David had wanted to restore it, but she liked the imperfections, thought they provided more character than a glossy veneer could. The silence echoed around her, unnatural. Had it always been so quiet here? She’d grown accustomed to the considerable background noise at Winnie’s house. Here, there were no animals, only wall-to-wall memories.

  She slid out of her shoes and went straight to the kitchen. Despite grappling with nausea these days, she was starving. Some men living on their own might have cupboards devoid of anything but basic guy staples, but the refrigerator boasted a huge selection of produce, marinated chicken breasts, organic eggs, three types of fruit juice and a nearly full gallon of milk. The freezer was also stocked wi
th an array of choices. She made herself a three-egg omelet with mushrooms, cheese, peppers, broccoli florets and a side of whole-grain toast. Afterward, when she was pleasantly stuffed, she decided she should work on the scrapbook she and Ari planned to give Lilah and Tanner at their rehearsal dinner.

  It had been Arianne’s idea, although Rachel freely admitted that not only did her sister-in-law take lousy pictures-half of which included her thumb over the lens-she was no good at arranging them artfully. “You have an eye for these things,” Ari had wheedled.

  “In other words, you’re hoping I’ll do all the work,” Rachel had translated with a laugh.

  “In a nutshell.”

  With Quinn’s help, the two of them had been surreptitiously gathering pictures from half the people in town. Rachel would be shocked if Lilah and Tanner hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Mistletonians weren’t known for their ability to keep secrets. Rachel had an assortment of childhood pictures, sweetheart photos from when the couple had first dated back in high school, individual milestone shots, such as college graduations and Lilah’s first day teaching, and more recent mementos from the previous year, when they’d rekindled their romance. Even though Rachel had been happy to help with the project, she’d been procrastinating. Laying out a visual representation of another couple’s romance while her own was in decline had been difficult.

  Now just the opposite was happening. Sure, there was a melancholy twinge when she looked at the timeline of Lilah and Tanner’s love spread out across her coffee table, but staring at their memories, she was also caught up in her own. Good ones. As she cut and glued and sorted through her collection of stamps and die-cut embellishments, she found herself unconsciously whistling again. She paused, replaying the melody in her mind to figure out what it was.

  “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.”

  Just as she was debating turning on the radio versus the television for background noise, the phone rang.