Silver Bells

by Raney,Deborah

  But Kevin Ferris was the only one besides her parents who knew that. She pushed the thought aside. Kevin was the last person she wanted to think about tonight.

  Rob planned to meet them at her apartment with a pizza in a few minutes. “Well, we’d better be going.”

  “You be good for Miss Michelle, okay?” Becky reached for Eden, suddenly reluctant to let her go. “Remember, you can call my neighbor if you need to get hold of me, okay?”

  “I’ve got the number in my purse. We’ll be fine. You just enjoy your evening. And don’t you dare spend it cleaning house or doing laundry or something. You do something fun, just for you.”

  That smoothed the furrows from her brow. “Okay. I’ll try. Thanks again, Michelle. I owe you one. And thanks for the groceries.”

  “No big deal. Have a great evening.” She hurried down the steps and to her car before Becky could change her mind.

  Rob’s Pinto was parked in the driveway behind the house when she pulled in. He waved to them from the driver’s seat. Good. He’d found her place okay. She checked her hair in the rearview mirror then went around to get Eden out of the car.

  Rob met them at the door with a boxed pizza. The savory aroma wafted through the chilly night air, and her mouth watered.

  “Pizza! Pizza!” Eden chanted, reaching for Rob.

  “Oh, yeah, you just like me ’cause I made supper. Just like a woman.” He pinched Eden’s cheek and winked at Michelle.

  “And you call that making supper? Just like a man.”

  “Touché.”

  His grin told her the evening was off to a good start.

  She led the way up two flights of stairs to her apartment. She’d gone out to the farm this morning to rummage through the attic for some lamps and one of Grandma Penn’s vases, which she’d filled with cut ivy that was still growing green on the side of the chimney. She’d talked Mom into letting her have—no, borrow—Grandma’s everyday dishes too. They would use paper plates for pizza tonight, but the dishes looked nice arranged just so on the brick-and-board bookcases her brother had helped her put together when she first moved in.

  She’d left the lamps on, and they gave the living room a cozy glow. The apartment smelled of Lemon Pledge and Lysol, evidence she’d spent all afternoon cleaning. Beneath those clean scents, the smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies wafted out. She almost hoped Rob didn’t notice so she could surprise him later.

  “Nice place,” Rob said, when they were all inside. “Where do you want this?” He held up the box of fragrant pizza.

  “I want it right here, actually.” She patted her tummy.

  “Pizza!” Eden chimed in.

  Rob laughed. “Okay. Lead me to the dishes.”

  “Follow me.” She led the way to the tiny kitchen at the back of the apartment. She got down paper plates for Rob, and he filled their plates and poured drinks while she got Eden out of her coat and settled her atop a stack of Sears & Roebuck catalogs on a kitchen chair.

  “My grandma used to do that—and tie me in with a dish towel,” Rob said, grinning.

  “So did mine! And the dish towel is a good idea, actually.” She scooted the chair close to the table and rummaged in a drawer for the largest cotton tea towel she could find. Folded on the bias, it made a perfect “seat belt” for Eden.

  She cut a thin slice of the pizza into tiny bites and blew on them to make sure they were cool enough. She put them on a plate in front of Eden, who dug in immediately.

  Michelle laughed. “Well, I guess we’re not going to say a blessing.”

  Rob handed her an empty plate and a glass of pop, then plopped the pizza box on the end of the table farthest from Eden. “Dinner is served. And I’ll say the blessing.”

  He sat down and bowed his head.

  “Hey, Eden,” she whispered. “Shhh. We’re going to say grace.”

  “Heavenly Father,” Rob began.

  Michelle bowed her head then snuck a quick peek at Eden, who actually had her head bowed over her plate—even if she also had a death grip on the hunk of pizza in her tiny fist.

  “God, we thank you for this food and for this chance to help Becky Preston out,” Rob said.

  “Mama!” Eden said.

  Rob and Michelle exchanged a look. Did Eden recognize her mother’s given name?

  Rob chuckled and quickly closed the prayer. “Bless this food for our use, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “Amen!” Eden cheered and stuffed a bite of pizza into her mouth.

  They ate in amiable silence, and as hard as she tried, Michelle could not help imagining what it would be like if they really were a family. It was as if she were getting a dress rehearsal of her dream. But God wasn’t that cruel was He, that He would make her pretend at something she couldn’t have?

  Don’t ruin a perfectly good evening with your fantasizing, Penn. She took her own advice and pushed aside the images that crowded in.

  It was fun to see Rob like this, whether he was only a coworker or something more. He made goo-goo eyes at Eden and made her giggle like he had with the chattering teeth at Becky’s house.

  “Do you think she has a chance?” he asked, a winsome sadness in his blue eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “In life. Or will she just grow up like…you know?”

  “Wow. I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” They discussed Becky’s situation, talking in code just in case Eden understood more than it appeared.

  The little girl vied for Rob’s attention, and he snuck a silly look in between his dialogue with Michelle. They were debating the earth-shatteringly important question of which Beatle was the most talented musician when a strange noise at the end of the table made them both look Eden’s way—just in time for her to throw up all over the table and herself.

  Michelle practically dove to pick Eden up, while Rob jumped out of his chair and backpedaled with a look of horror on his handsome face.

  Michelle couldn’t help but giggle, even as she tried to clean up the mess.

  Eden whimpered a little, but she seemed more concerned that she was covered with liquid pizza than that her tummy hurt.

  “Help me out here, will you?” She untied the tea towel to release Eden from the chair and carried her over to the sink. “Can you get the water nice and warm for me? But not too warm.”

  “I will if you promise she won’t barf on me again.”

  Michelle cracked up. “She didn’t barf on you.”

  “She almost did, the little vomit machine.” He turned on the faucet while somehow managing to stay a safe distance from “the little vomit machine.” He watched Michelle clean up Eden at the sink. “Do you think she has the flu?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. It’s probably just from snarfing down too much pizza in one sitting, but I think I’ll call my mom as soon as we get her cleaned up. Just to be sure.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  Ten minutes later, Eden was dressed in pajamas, smelling of shampoo and baby powder. Michelle went to the kitchen and dialed her parents’ number. While she waited for them to pick up, she stretched the phone cord into the living room doorway. Rob sat on the floor in front of the sofa with Eden in his lap, turning the pages of a storybook they’d found in the diaper bag. Michelle wished she had her Little Golden Books here. She made a note to bring a few back to the apartment the next time she made a trip out to the farm.

  “Hello?”

  “Daddy, hi. It’s Michelle.”

  He laughed. “You know, beings you’re the only female on the face of the earth who calls me Daddy, you could probably dispense with the introductions from now on.”

  “Oh.” She grinned. “I guess I never thought of that. Is Mom home?”

  “She’s upstairs. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. But I’m babysitting, and I need to ask Mom something.”

  “Hang on…I’ll get her.”

  She heard him lay down the phone and run up the stairs
. A minute later, Mom came on the line. “Hi, honey. What’s up? Who are you babysitting for?”

  “Just a friend here in town.” She didn’t want to go into the whole explanation right now. “The baby is two and we fed her pizza for supper, but she threw it all up right after she ate.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said we fed her pizza.”

  Oh, brother. She for sure didn’t want to go into that whole explanation. “Oh. A friend’s here with me. From work. Eden—that’s the little girl—seems like she feels fine now, but do you think I need to be worried that she threw up?”

  She could almost sense Mom kick into mothering mode. “Does she feel like she has a fever?”

  “Hang on.” She put the phone down and went to feel Eden’s forehead with the palm of her hand. “No. Her forehead feels cool. She acts like she feels fine.”

  “The pizza probably just didn’t agree with her,” Mom said. “Pizza might be a little rich for a two-year-old’s tummy. I’d just watch her and make sure she doesn’t develop a fever. And be sure and let her parents know what happened so they can watch her over the next couple of days.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom. I knew you’d know what to do.”

  “Glad to help. Oh, and if she threw up her supper, she might be hungry again soon. But you might want to go easy this time. Maybe just a little applesauce and some saltines. I could bring something in to town if you want me to. What’s the address where you’re babysitting?”

  “Oh no, you don’t need to do that,” she said, a little too quickly. Please no. The last thing she needed was her mother showing up at her door. “There are crackers in the cupboard, and I think there’s some yogurt in the fridge.” She made it sound like she was referring to someone else’s kitchen.

  “She should tolerate that okay. You might want to keep her quiet, though. No roughhousing. It’s probably about time to put her to bed, isn’t it? …So who’s helping you babysit?”

  Michelle glanced at Rob and took the phone back into the kitchen. “Just a friend from work. I really need to go now, Mom. Thanks again.” She hung up before her mother could ask any more questions.

  She went back into the living room and waited for Rob to finish the story—for the third time. “Are you hungry?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t talking to you, silly. I was talking to Eden. Mom said she might be hungry again since she barfed up her supper.”

  Rob squeezed Eden and kissed her cheek. “Are you hungry, babe?”

  Michelle’s heart melted. This man was going to make such a good daddy someday. The thought sobered her. She’d had the very same thought watching Kevin coach Little League. And maybe Kevin would be a terrific father. Just not to her kids. She dare not put that monkey on Rob’s back—even in her mind.

  She knelt on the floor beside them and felt Eden’s forehead again. Still cool to the touch. “Do you want something to eat, Eden?”

  “Uh-uh.” The little girl clamped her mouth shut and wagged her head. “Book?” She held the book up to Rob.

  “Again? We’ve read this one three times already.”

  “Book! Book!” Eden bounced on his lap.

  “How about I tell you a story instead?”

  “Book!”

  Rob took the book and slipped it under the sofa behind him. “Listen, Eden. Listen to this story. Once upon a time—”

  She seemed to recognize the prelude to a new story and nestled herself deeper into his lap.

  Michelle curled up in the easy chair beside them, smiling.

  Rob spun a fantastical tale about a little girl named Eden and her pink puppy named Sweden. Michelle cracked up as his story became more ridiculous—and more rambunctious—as it went along. When Eden and Sweden suddenly learned to fly in the story, Rob swooped the real Eden into the air and landed her on the sofa behind him.

  She giggled and dove over his shoulders, back into his lap. “Do again! Do again!”

  He obliged, swooping her into Michelle’s arms this time. Michelle thought about Mom’s warning, but she didn’t have the heart to ruin their fun. When a game of toss-the-baby ensued, she prayed Eden’s stomach had settled and the game didn’t turn into toss-the-cookies.

  The next hour was pure delight, playing with Eden and seeing Rob Merrick in this new and amazing light. Finally Eden began to wind down, rubbing her eyes and twisting a hank of hair between her fingers.

  “Are you sleepy, sweetie?”

  In answer, Eden lifted her arms for Michelle to pick her up. She carried her to the rocker in the corner of the room. With the little girl snuggled in her lap, Michelle sang a Karen Carpenter medley at lullaby tempo. Within minutes, Eden was asleep.

  Still humming softly, Michelle glanced up and saw Rob watching her. The look on his face made her heart turn a somersault.

  Chapter 23

  “You’re pretty good at that,” Rob said, whispering so he wouldn’t wake the baby.

  Michelle quit singing, and her face flushed in the dim light of the lamp on the table beside the rocker. She’d seemed unaware of his eyes on her while she rocked Eden, but now she cringed and looked down, obviously self-conscious.

  “No. Don’t stop,” he said. “It’s working like magic.” He motioned at the sleeping baby.

  “Well,” Michelle whispered, “I think she was tired enough that a freight train would have put her to sleep.”

  “She’s a cutie. I’m glad we did this. It was a good idea.”

  “It was. Thanks for coming with me. Honestly, I don’t know how Becky does it by herself.

  He blew out a breath. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s a full-time job. I hope she’s having a good night.”

  “Yeah, me too. I bet the night flew by, though.”

  “I know it did for me.” Only because he wished he had another four hours with this woman.

  She glanced at the clock. “Don’t speak too soon. We still have an hour and a half before we have to have her back.”

  “True. It will probably drag like crazy.”

  She eyed him as if she were trying to decide whether he was serious. But then that familiar spark came to her eyes. “Because I’m so boring, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m bored out of my gourd.”

  “Well, there’s nothing that says you have to stay. I think I can get her down to the car without waking her up.”

  “No, I’ll stay.” No way was he going to let her talk him into leaving. He couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be right now. If he told any of his college buddies that he’d spent a Saturday night helping a coworker babysit a two-year-old, they would have called him crazy. Even Doug Jensen would raise an eyebrow. And Doug understood firsthand the attraction the whole wife-and-kids thing held for him.

  He could scarcely believe it himself. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt content here. With Michelle, yes, but something about this little girl had reached in and taken hold of his heart too.

  Michelle shifted in the chair. “Hey, would you mind spreading her blanket on the end of the sofa there?”

  “Sure.” He took the tattered quilt and unfolded it, making a little pallet in one corner of the sofa.

  Michelle stood slowly, holding Eden close. The baby stirred, and Michelle bounced her gently, pacing the short length of the room until Eden stilled again. She brought her over to the sofa and laid her down, keeping a tender hand on her back until she settled back to sleep.

  Michelle wrapped the corners of the quilt around Eden and tucked them underneath her.

  “She looks like a little burrito,” he whispered.

  “She kind of smells like one too.” She scrunched up her nose and pulled a face that made Rob laugh.

  “Shh!” But she laughed too. “I’ll change her diaper before we take her home, but I’m not going to wake her up now.”

  He nodded his agreement.

  She propped sofa cushions strategically around Eden then strai
ghtened and moved toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

  “Do you have something hot? Tea, maybe?”

  “Sure. Let me put the kettle on.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, and while she got down mugs and tea bags, he offered to fill the kettle with fresh water and put it on to boil.

  When the tea was ready, they sat at the kitchen table—with a view into the living room in case Eden stirred—and talked.

  He loved seeing this softer side of Michelle. Here, she seemed comfortable in her own skin, singing to the baby, making tea, and now sitting with her stockinged feet on the chair and her knees pulled up under her chin.

  “You want your tea heated up?”

  “Oh! I almost forgot!” She sprang out of the chair and went to a cupboard. “I made cookies.”

  He took the cookie jar she presented and peeked inside. “Oh, man,” he said, “that’s exactly what I was hungry for. How’d you know?”

  She brought the kettle to the table, poured more water over their tea bags, and then curled back up on her chair, munching a cookie and looking as content as Rob felt.

  He held up a cookie. “These aren’t even burnt.”

  Without missing a beat, she took a bite of her cookie, gave his knee a jab with the toe of her thick socks, and smiled smugly. “That’s because I didn’t make them in a stupid microwave oven.”

  “Well, they’re good. You could make these any time.”

  He couldn’t quite interpret the look she gave him, but he thought it was something along the lines of, And why, pray tell, would I have occasion to make you cookies again, Mr. Merrick III?

  “I’m glad we did this.”

  She grinned. “Yes, you said that already.”

  “Yeah, but I was talking about Eden before. Now I’m talking about you.”

  “Oh?”