A Baby for Easter

by Noelle Adams

  “You mean marriage?” Something changed on his face.

  “No. I mean marriage to men I’d made up in my head, but who really just…just weren’t worth it.”

  He reached out and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We had this conversation. You believed they were worth it. They’re to blame. Not you.”

  “I should have been smarter.”

  “You trusted them.”

  “Smart women don’t trust men who aren’t worthy of that trust.”

  He didn’t answer, so she looked up at his face. He was obviously reflecting on the words. Finally, he murmured, “I don’t think that’s true. I think smart women can misplace their trust just as easily as anyone else. Including men, by the way.”

  “Have you misplaced your trust?”

  “No.” Something twisted on his face. “But a lot of women have misplaced their trust in me.”

  “Micah, that’s not—”

  “It definitely is true. Way too many women have. And you did that summer, didn’t you?”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? How likely are you to trust me now, after how I acted then?”

  Alice’s heart was racing, and his arm was still around her, so she was afraid he might be able to feel her pounding heartbeat against his chest. “You didn’t do anything so bad. We were friends that summer, and then you went to college.” She looked down, the way she always did when she was uncertain about a conversation.

  He tilted her head up so she met his eyes. “You thought we would be more than friends, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, feeling a poignant kind of grief over her emotions so long ago. “I…I hoped so. I thought maybe you…”

  “I did. You weren’t wrong. I did.”

  “Then why—” Her voice broke, so she didn’t finish the question.

  He cupped her face. “I was stupid. Stupid and selfish. I’m so sorry about it, Alice. I hate myself when I think of it now. But I kept thinking how hard it would be, with me going to college and you still here. I just kept thinking about…how hard it would be.”

  “It would have been hard. We probably wouldn’t have lasted past the first semester anyway. You were just eighteen, and I was sixteen. You were right. It would have been too hard at that age. No reason to beat yourself up about it.”

  “But I do. When I think about…I do.”

  “Oh, Micah,” she murmured, reaching up to cover his warm hand on her face. “We were just kids.”

  “Maybe,” he said roughly. “But I can’t believe I gave you up because I didn’t want to work hard enough to keep you. I was crazy about you that summer.”

  “I was crazy about you too,” she whispered.

  He made a rough sound in his throat and leaned down, capturing her lips with his. He brushed his against hers softly at first, and it felt so good—her body and heart suddenly coming alive with a rush of feeling—that she reached up to fist her hand in his t-shirt.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and drew his mouth away just long enough to murmur thickly, “Alice. I didn’t deserve you, even then, but I’ve never wanted anyone else like that.” Then he pressed his mouth against hers again, harder this time.

  She gasped against his lips, opening her mouth to the advance of his tongue. He leaned into the kiss, and she instinctively leaned backward until he had her pressed against the back of the recliner. She wrapped an arm around his neck in a desperate attempt to hang on, since it felt like her head was spinning so wildly it might actually fly off her neck.

  He shifted his position so that he could slide a hand down to the small of her back, pressing her body closer to his. She arched into him instinctively, intense feelings spiraling through her as his strength and his heat and his body and his mouth and his passion seemed to devour her.

  “Micah,” she gasped, when his mouth finally broke from hers. He pressed little kisses over the side of her mouth, her jaw, down her neck. Her head fell back, and she clawed at his shoulders, her whole body pulsing in a way she’d never experienced before.

  Not like this, anyway.

  He murmured a wordless response and found her mouth again, one of his hands sliding down to her thigh and then back up to her ribs. He was almost touching her breast, and part of her wanted him to, wanted him to touch her everywhere.

  But that thought, and the intensity with which she wanted it, sent a flare of panic shooting through her with the pleasure. She tried to pull her head back, but he was holding it in place with one hand at the back of her head.

  “Micah,” she mumbled against his mouth. “Micah, wait.”

  After just a moment, his hands grew still. Then his mouth grew still. Then he managed to draw his face back, although he kept his forehead leaning against hers.

  “I’m sorry,” she panted. “I’m not used to…It’s too fast.”

  “I know.’ He straightened up, pulling away from her and sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting…I mean, I don’t usually…It was too fast for me.”

  “Yeah.” He was slightly flushed and still sitting very stiffly. “Me too. I…got carried away. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Her body still seemed to pulse, still seemed to want a lot more. But her head had stopped spinning, and now it seemed to weight a hundred pounds. She was confused and awkward and anxious, and she was concerned about Micah, who wasn’t looking at her at all. “I don’t actually have a lot of…a lot of experience, and I’m not used to kissing like that before…well, at all.”

  The truth was, she’d never been kissed like that in her life. And she liked it. She definitely liked it. But not before she even knew what Micah was thinking about their relationship.

  She knew he didn’t sleep around anymore, but he was definitely a lot more experienced than she was, and maybe he didn’t take kissing as seriously as she did. If they could talk about it, though, it would be fine.

  She was sure it would be fine.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice rougher than ever. “I shouldn’t have…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I keep saying it was fine. Please don’t worry about it. We just got carried away. It happens.”

  “Yeah.” He said the one word on a dry huff, and then he suddenly lurched to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  He disappeared from the living room, and then she heard the side door open. He must have gone outside.

  Then she felt even more awkward and immature than ever. Maybe he needed to walk it off or something, but she felt insecure and upset left alone on the recliner. She got up and went to check on Cara, who was sleeping soundly. Then she washed and dried the wine glasses and put them in the cabinet. Then she wiped down the kitchen counter and was working on the sink when he returned.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, turning to him in concern.

  “Yeah.” He looked better than before, but still kind of stiff and guarded. “Sorry about all that.”

  She sighed and lifted her hand to his chest. “I keep saying it’s fine. Maybe we can just talk—”

  Before she finished, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and lowered her hand so she wasn’t touching him. “Yeah. We can. But maybe not tonight.”

  She was more upset than ever, but it was obvious that he wanted her to leave. And maybe he was right. It would be easier to just call it a night and start fresh tomorrow with a conversation.

  “Okay. It’s getting kind of late, so I think I’ll head over to my place.”

  He nodded, his face utterly grave, the way it had always been with her before Cara came along.

  The expression worried her, but there was nothing to do about it now. Maybe they could talk about it tomorrow.

  When she got her purse and started to the door, he came with her. He escorted her down the walk and up the stairs to her apartment.

&
nbsp; “Okay,” she said, dropping her eyes and hoping things hadn’t all fallen apart in the space of fifteen minutes. “Thanks for taking me to the play. I had a good time.”

  “Me too. Thanks for coming with us.”

  She snuck a peek up at him and saw his expression was still sober, thoughtful, quiet. His eyes seemed to be searching her face, though. She smiled at him, thinking it would be okay if he kissed her goodnight—just a little.

  He didn’t. He just stood there. So she said goodnight again and opened the door.

  And she was no closer to knowing what was going on between her and Micah—or if there was anything real going on at all—at the end of the evening than she’d been at the beginning of it.

  Nine

  The next day was Thursday, and Alice had to work at the church in the morning. There was a lot going on for the next few days at church, since Easter weekend was one of the busiest times of the church calendar year.

  Micah didn’t have to go in early that day, so she went to the church office and worked for a couple of hours, and he brought Cara by around ten on his way to his first job.

  He was quiet and watchful rather than warm and friendly, and she started to get nervous vibes at the shift. But they only spoke for a few minutes, and she told herself not to jump to conclusions.

  No sense in jumping to the worst conclusions, any more than jumping to the best conclusions. She didn’t know anything yet.

  She just hoped he’d be willing to talk about it, so they could get it sorted out and she’d know what he was thinking about everything.

  Better to know for sure—one way or the other—than to live in this emotional limbo. She just didn’t want to break her third rule and corner him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for, since she’d done that in the past and ended up being engaged for two years to a man who didn’t want her.

  She took Cara back to the house for the afternoon, and Micah called to say that he’d be a little later than he’d expected. But then he asked if she wanted to go to the Maundy Thursday service with him and Cara.

  Instead of their church having services for both Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, they collaborated with another local church. The Maundy Thursday service was at the other church, and the Good Friday service at theirs. Micah had to help out with logistics, so he had to go to both.

  Alice had been originally planning to babysit, but they had nursery provided, so there was no reason why she and Cara couldn’t go with him. She was happy about the invitation, since it proved he wasn’t trying to get some distance, which was one of the interpretations of his behavior she’d been tempted to dwell on.

  So she put on a nice top and black pants and was waiting when he got home. She’d made a pot of vegetable soup, so, after telling her she didn’t have to cook for him, he grabbed a bowl before he went up to shower and change quickly.

  He had to act as a greeter, so she took Cara to the nursery when they got to the church. Ridiculously, she was a little nervous about leaving Cara in the hands of someone else, especially since the baby still had the sniffles.

  Alice got over the irrational feeling, though, chatted with a few people, and then found a seat in the sanctuary in a pew near the front behind Daniel and Jessica.

  Micah came to join her a few minutes after the service started, and she noticed people looking over at them.

  He wasn’t touching her or sitting really close, but it still felt like they were a couple. She was sure people who saw them assumed they were a couple—or quickly becoming one. Alice hoped it was true, but nothing had been said between them, and she couldn’t assume anything based on nothing more than one date, one kiss, and going to church together.

  The service was sober and formal, and Alice made herself focus on the remembrance of this last evening, this last supper, everything it signified. She was partly successful, but she felt increasingly restless as the hour continued. Micah seemed to have turned inward, as if he were barely aware that she was beside him.

  She wondered what he was thinking, what he was praying about.

  During the hymn between the homily and communion, she murmured to Micah that she was going to check on Cara, mostly because she was having trouble sitting still.

  Alice realized it was a good idea when, even before she got to the nursery, she heard Cara crying.

  She hurried into the nursery and ran over to take Cara, whom a helper had been holding. “Wouldn’t she stopped crying?” she asked.

  “She’s been crying the whole time,” the helper told her. “Is it her first time in a nursery?”

  “Yeah. But she’s had a little cold, so maybe she’s still not feeling good.”

  She sat down in a rocker and cuddled Cara, whose cries quieted a little but didn’t stop. She tried to feed her a bottle, but the baby refused it. Alice felt her face, but it didn’t feel particularly hot.

  The lead attendant of the nursery came over and said, “She looks like she might be sick. She doesn’t have a fever, but maybe she has an ear infection. They don’t know enough at that age to know where the pain is coming from, so they just cry. You might want to take her to the doctor tomorrow.”

  “You don’t think we need to do something about it tonight, do you?”

  “I don’t think so. Not unless she gets worse.”

  Alice kept rocking Cara, and she grew more worried, despite the other woman’s assurances. Cara didn’t look like she was in horrible pain, but she just wouldn’t settle down.

  A few minutes later, the door to the nursery opened and Micah appeared in the doorway. He took one look at Alice and Cara and immediately strode over to them. “Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know. She might have an ear infection.”

  Micah knelt down next to the rocker and reached out to cup Cara’s little face. “Do we need to take her to the doctor?”

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough,” the attendant said, smiling and walking over to them. She looked down on them with maternal understanding. “Babies get ear infections all the time. Nothing to worry about.”

  Micah didn’t look reassured. “Should we take her home?” He was obviously asking Alice the question, as if she were some sort of expert on what to do with infants with possible ear infections.

  “Don’t you need to do something at the end of the service?”

  “I can just tell Daniel I need to take off. They can find someone else.”

  “It’s up to you. I can just stay with her until the service is over. It should just be another fifteen minutes.” She felt crowded and exposed in the nursery, and she would be very glad to get home to take care of Cara in peace. But the baby was Micah’s daughter, not hers, so he needed to make the decision.

  Micah’s eyes rested on Cara, who was squirming and whimpering. “I’ll just tell him we need to leave.”

  “Okay. Whatever you think is best.” She hugged Cara closer to her, relieved that he’d made the same decision she would have made.

  “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “I’ll go ahead and get her in the car.”

  She was hooking Cara into the car seat when Micah came out, and the baby was crying again. Micah reached over to put a big hand on the little cheek.

  “I don’t think she has a fever,” Alice said.

  “No. She doesn’t feel hot.” He stood next to the open door of the car, looking down at his daughter.

  Alice could see he was concerned, uncertain, helpless, and she knew it was hard for him. He was used to being so perfectly competent in everything he did. Something so out of his experience and knowledge-base must be stretching him considerably. “I’ll sit in the back with her,” she said gently.

  “Okay. Thanks.” He reached down again and felt Cara’s cheek. “Do you think she’ll be okay?

  Alice gazed at his profile and the breadth of his shoulders beneath his black dress shirt, and she had the sudden urge to cradle him. She murmured, “I think so, but I just don’t know that much about babies. I’d call my mom to s
ee if she thought we should do something tonight, but they go to bed at eight.” When he raised his eyebrows, she added, “They get up at forty-thirty every morning.”

  “Yeah. You shouldn’t wake them up.”

  “Why don’t you call your mom? She had babies. She would know.”

  He looked down at her, not moving for a moment.

  She reached up and put a hand on his chest. “Why don’t you want to ask your mom for help?”

  He made a face and glanced away from her.

  “She thinks…” Alice paused and restarted. “She thinks you think she’s ashamed of you, but she’s not.”

  Micah’s eyes shot back to her face.

  “She’s not,” she said softly, realizing he needed to hear this. “She told me she’s so proud of you and she’s so happy to have Cara as part of the family. She’s not ashamed of you, Micah. She loves you.” She felt suddenly emotional as she saw the feeling process on his face. “I think…I really think she would want to help. It would mean a lot if you’d ask her. And it would make us feel better to get advice from someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone we trust.”

  He took a breath and then reached in his pocket to pull out his phone.

  Alice sat down on the edge of the backseat while he called his mother. She must have picked up right away because, after just a few seconds, he was saying, “Hey. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  After what must have been earnest assurances, he said, “We think Cara might have an ear ache. At least, that’s what the woman in the nursery thinks…No, she doesn’t have a fever…She ate okay earlier today, but she didn’t want a bottle this evening…She had that little cold for the last couple of days…She just won’t stop crying…Okay. That’s a good idea…Yeah…Yeah…Okay. We’ll do that…Yeah, she’s with me. She wasn’t sure what was best to do either…Okay. Thanks. Sorry if I bothered you…Okay. Yeah…Thanks…I love you too…Okay. I’ll call after. Thank you. Bye.”