Twins Under His Tree

by Karen Rose Smith

  She caught his arm before he moved away.

  His gaze crashed into hers and they stared at each other for a few moments.

  “Thank you for bringing me home.”

  “No problem,” he responded, as if it was no big deal.

  But it was a big deal to Lily. She’d never forget his friendship with Troy. She’d certainly never forget his kindness to her. But something about that kindness and her acceptance of it unsettled her. She had to figure out why it bothered her so much that Mitch would be sleeping on her couch tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Lily stared at the TV that evening, not really focused on the newsmagazine show that was airing. She was too aware of Mitch rattling the back screen door, fixing loose weather stripping.

  Over supper they’d talked about the house and former tenants, needing dispassionate conversation. When they didn’t stay on neutral territory, they seemed to wander into intensity…or awkwardness that came from being alone together. It was odd, really. For the past two and a half years while working with Mitch, she’d found him easy to be with. Now…

  The phone rang and Lily picked up the cordless from the end table. When she saw Gina’s number on caller ID, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hi,” Gina said. “How are you and Sophie and Grace?”

  “I called the hospital a little bit ago. They’re doing okay. And I’m…good. I’m at home.”

  “So you said in your message. I’m sorry I just got it. My plane had a delay taking off. It was a whirlwind trip, leaving yesterday and coming back today. But I didn’t want to be away from Daniel and Logan any longer than I had to be.”

  A baby development expert, Gina had received an offer from a Houston hospital to start her Baby Grows center there, too. Lily was sure Gina would someday not only have an additional Baby Grows center in Houston but many all around the country.

  “So Mitch is keeping you company? How’s that going?”

  “It’s okay. It’s just…he’s hovering. He insists I shouldn’t be alone today. He gave me the option to sleep over at his place, or his sleeping on my couch. So he’s sleeping here on my couch tonight.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure.” But Lily knew her voice didn’t sound sure. A man who wasn’t her husband sleeping under her roof. Is that what was bothering her? Or was there more to it?

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “No,” Lily was quick to answer. “You need to be with your family.”

  “I was going to take off work tomorrow. Why don’t I drive over first thing? Then Mitch can go to Family Tree.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have other things you have to do?”

  “I don’t,” Gina replied. “Tomorrow we can talk about Sophie and Grace, possibly visit them, and maybe I can get some things ready for you.”

  Seeing her twins. Baby talk. Girl talk. That sounded great to Lily. “I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem. Have you heard from Angie?”

  Angie was Gina’s sister, and Lily knew Gina worried about her when she worked on the team. “No. Have you?”

  “No, not since she reached the Gulf. But the disaster relief team really doesn’t have time for anything but helping the victims.” After a short pause, she asked, “Why don’t I stop at the bakery and pick up croissants on my way over?”

  “I’m supposed to be losing weight, not gaining it.”

  “You don’t have that much to lose. Besides, if you’re going to pump milk and then breast-feed, you need some extra calories.”

  “The croissants sound good. That way I can convince Mitch he doesn’t have to make breakfast.”

  “Did he make supper?”

  “He did. And now he’s doing some minor repairs on the house.”

  It must have been her tone of voice when she said it that made Gina ask, “That bothers you?”

  “I don’t want to be indebted to him. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Oh, I know. But remember, Troy asked him to watch over you. That’s what he’s doing.”

  Last fall, Lily had shared Troy’s letter with Gina, Angie and Raina. They also knew Mitch was simply fulfilling a promise. She should be grateful instead of uncomfortable.

  Lily had just ended the call when Mitch strode into the living room. She told him, “Gina’s coming over early tomorrow morning so you don’t have to worry about me.”

  No change of expression crossed Mitch’s face, but there was a flicker of reaction in his eyes that said he would worry anyway.

  “I have a new client tomorrow who will be making decisions about in vitro fertilization and a few follow-up appointments after that. So if you need anything, I can try to rearrange my schedule.”

  She jumped in. “No need. I’ll be sorting baby clothes with Gina and hanging decorations on the nursery walls. I wasn’t prepared for an early delivery, which isn’t like me at all!”

  Mitch set the duct tape he’d carried in on an end table. “You wanted to stay in the pregnant zone as long as you could.”

  Although diplomatic, what he wasn’t saying was obvious. She’d wanted to put off the idea of becoming a mother without Troy by her side for as long as possible. For once in her life, denial had definitely been more palatable than reality.

  But now reality had smacked her in the face.

  “You look lost,” Mitch said, with a gentle edge to his voice.

  That gentleness fell over her like a warm cloak. But then she had to ask herself, did she feel lost? Adrift? Alone? But she wasn’t alone when she had good friends helping her. “No, not lost. Just off balance. I hate the unexpected. And my life has been one unexpected crisis after the other.”

  Rounding the coffee table, he approached her and she wished he’d sit beside her on the sofa. But he didn’t. “Sophie and Grace coming home will be grounding. You’ll see.”

  His dark eyes didn’t waver from hers and she felt sudden heat rising in her cheeks. Not from looking at Mitch! How many times had she looked at him in just that way?

  No. Not just this way.

  “The bedding for the sofa is upstairs,” she said in a rush. “I’ll get it.”

  “Are you staying up there?”

  “I suppose.” She produced a smile. “You’ll have the downstairs to yourself if you want to watch TV or get a snack.”

  “I’ll walk up with you.”

  There was no point in protesting. What would she do? Toss him the bedding over the banister?

  When she swung her legs over the side of the sofa, Mitch was there, holding out his hand to help her up. She could be stubborn. Or she could accept a hand up when she needed it.

  His strong fingers closed over hers, and her heart raced as her mind searched for something to say.

  “Take it slowly,” he reminded her as she rose to her feet.

  Everything Mitch said today seemed to be full of deeper meaning. Although she longed to keep her hand in his, she slid it free and headed to the stairs.

  A few minutes later in the hall on the second floor, Lily stopped by the linen closet and opened the door. Blankets lay folded on the shelf above her head. She reached up but she shouldn’t have bothered. Mitch was there, behind her, easily pulling a blanket from the closet. His superior height and strength was obvious. She could sense both, even though he wasn’t touching her. Jittery, tired and anxious about what was going to happen next, she knew her hormones were out of whack. That was the best explanation she could think of to explain how she was feeling around Mitch.

  He stepped away, bedding in hand. “This is great.”

  “Don’t be silly. You need a sheet and pillow.” And she needed something to do with her hands. She needed something to do with her mind. She needed something to do.

  Choosing a pale blue sheet, she yanked a matching pillowcase from a stack. “The extra pillows are way up on the top shelf,” she explained, moving away, letting him reach.

  He easily removed one of those, too.


  “I wish the sofa pulled out. You’re going to be uncomfortable all scrunched up.”

  He laughed. “Believe me, I’ve slept on a lot worse. You worry too much, Lily. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  Her husband’s name came to her lips, but she didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. Mitch knew.

  He looked disconcerted for a second—just a second—but then he took the sheets from her arms. “Do you have a phone in your room?”

  “My cell phone is in my purse. You brought that up with my suitcase. Why?”

  “If you need something, call me. You might go to bed and an hour from now figure out you want a pack of crackers or a glass of milk.”

  There was only one way to answer with a man like Mitch. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  But somehow they both knew she wouldn’t.

  She went to the door to her room, which was only a few feet away. He didn’t move until she stepped over the threshold and murmured, “Good night.”

  He gave her a slight nod, responded, “Good night, Lily,” and headed for the stairs.

  As she closed her door, she leaned against it and sighed. She wanted to make up the sofa for him so it would be comfortable.

  How silly a notion was that?

  “What do you mean you sent Gina home?” Mitch demanded as he stood in Lily’s living room the following evening, a gift-wrapped box under one arm.

  “She arrived before I was up this morning, as you know. She helped me ready the nursery. She took me to see the babies, and then I told her she should go home to her husband and son.”

  “And she just went?” He seemed astonished by that idea.

  “She protested, but I plopped here on the sofa, told her I’d stay here, and she saw I meant it.”

  Lily was one exasperating woman! There was no doubt about that. But he had to admire her in spite of himself. “What did you do for dinner?”

  “What is this, the third degree?”

  He just arched a brow.

  “Gina made a casserole for lunch and I had leftovers, with a salad and all that. What did you have?” she returned, almost cheekily.

  All day he’d thought about eating dinner with her last night…saying good-night at the end of the day, spending the night on her couch in the strong grip of an insomnia he knew too well. Yet that was better than waking up in a sweat after too-real flashbacks or nightmares. Moments of sensual awareness when Lily had come downstairs this morning had been unsettling enough to push him on his way as soon as Gina had arrived.

  Answering her, he said, “I went to the drive-through at my favorite burger joint.” At her expression, he laughed. “Don’t look so outraged. I have to do that once a week to keep fit.”

  Lily laughed then, even though she tried not to. That was the first real laugh he’d heard from her since before—even he had trouble saying it sometimes—since before Troy had died. He wanted to keep her spirits up. “So…how are Sophie and Grace?”

  “Sit down,” Lily said, motioning to the sofa. “I hate it when you loom. What’s under your arm?”

  “We’ll get to that.” He considered her comment. “And I don’t loom.”

  “Whatever you say,” she said too quickly, with a little smile.

  Shaking his head, he set the box on the coffee table and lowered himself to the sofa. Not too close to her. Before he’d driven over here, he’d warned himself about that.

  “The babies are so small,” she explained, worried. “I can touch them but I can’t hold them, and I’m dying to hold them.”

  “You’ll soon be able to hold Sophie, if not Grace. How’s their weight?” he asked, digging for the bottom line like a doctor.

  “They’re holding their own. My milk should be in soon and I’m going to pump it—” She stopped as her cheeks turned more pink.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m a doctor, Lily. We talk about this all the time with our patients.” Right now he had to think of her as a patient so other images didn’t trip over each other in his head.

  “I know. But it seems different with…us.”

  Yes, something did seem different. Her perception of him? His of her? The fact that they’d been friends and maybe now something more was going on?

  Nothing should be going on. It was way too soon for her. Maybe way too late for him.

  “Can you tell them apart?” he asked, knowing conversation about her little girls would be comforting for her.

  “Of course. Sophie’s nose is turned up a little bit more at the end than Grace’s. Grace’s chin is just a little daintier, a tad more refined. They both have Troy’s forehead and probably his eyes. It’s a little too soon to tell. Sophie’s a half inch longer than Grace, but Grace could catch up if she gains weight.”

  “She’ll gain weight. They both will.”

  “Grace is still on the ventilator.” Lily’s voice trembled a bit.

  Needing to fortify her with the truth, he asked, “What does Francesca say?”

  “Francesca insists they’re doing as well as can be expected and I have to give them time. I just feel like I should be doing something. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sitting still isn’t easy for either one of us.” He patted the box. “That’s why I brought this along. Doing is always better than worrying.”

  “A gift?” Lily tore the wrapping paper off and read the information on the outside of the box. “Oh, Mitch, this is one of those new baby monitors.”

  “It is. The screen is small, but there’s a portable handset you can carry with you to another room. So I’m also going to hook up a larger monitor you won’t need binoculars to see. It’s in my car.”

  “I can’t let you—”

  He shook his finger at her. “Don’t even say it. You’re going to be running yourself ragged when those babies come home. Having cameras in their cribs and a monitor down here so you can see them will help save a little bit of your energy.”

  “It will save a lot of my energy. Thank you.”

  Her blue eyes seemed to try to look inside him, into his heart…into his soul. That unsettled him. His soul was tormented at times by everything that had happened in Iraq. He hadn’t been able to save his friend, and that, along with the PTSD symptoms, clawed at his heart. He quickly replied, “You’re welcome. Why don’t I get this hooked up? That way it will be ready whenever you bring the babies home.”

  “The cribs were delivered this morning. Gina supervised so I didn’t have to run up and down the steps. But I don’t know if she put the bedding on.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can position the cameras with the bedding on or off.”

  “Do you need my help? I can come up—”

  “No.” If Lily came upstairs, she would definitely be a distraction. “I brought along a toolbox and everything I might need. You drink a glass of milk and crochet or something.”

  “Drink a glass of milk?” She was smiling and her question was filled with amusement.

  That smile of hers packed a wallop. It turned up the corners of her very pretty mouth. It seemed to make the few freckles across her cheeks more evident, her face actually glow.

  Had he been attracted to Lily before Troy’s death? If he was honest with himself, he had to say he had been. But attraction was one thing, acting on it was another. He’d shut it down when he’d learned she and Troy were to be married. He and Troy had become good friends and he’d congratulated them both at their wedding, always keeping his distance from Lily.

  Being colleagues at their practice had been difficult at times. But not impossible. He kept their dealings strictly professional. They’d been cohorts, interacting on an intellectual level. He and Troy had been close. He and Lily? They’d just existed in the same universe.

  Until…after Troy had died. When Mitch had hugged Lily that day after her ultrasound, he’d experienced desire and felt like an SOB because of it. That day, Mitch had realized that if he was going to keep his promise to Troy, he couldn’t deny his attraction any l
onger. At least to himself. She didn’t have to know about it.

  But now—

  Now nothing had changed. He had baggage. She had a world of grief and loss and new responsibility to deal with.

  Turning away from her smile, which could affect him more than he wanted to admit, he muttered, “Milk’s good for you and the babies. You’ve got to keep your vitamin D level up, along with your calcium. I’ll go get what I need from the SUV and be right back.”

  Sometimes retreat was the best part of valor. Remembering that might save them both from an awkward or embarrassing situation.

  Lily was emptying the dishwasher when Mitch called her into the living room. She’d been aware of his footfalls upstairs, the old floors creaking as he moved about. She’d been even more attuned to his presence when he’d come downstairs and she’d heard him cross the living room. She’d stayed in the kitchen. Somehow that had just seemed safer…easier…less fraught with vibrations she didn’t want to come to terms with.

  Hearing her name on Mitch’s lips was unsettling now, and she told herself she was just being silly. Yet, seconds later when she stepped into the living room and found him taking up space in his long-sleeved hoodie and jeans, she almost backed into the kitchen again.

  Making herself move forward, shifting her eyes away from his, she spotted the twenty-inch monitor on a side table. One moment she glimpsed one white crib with pink trim and green bedding. The next he’d pressed a button and she spotted the other crib with its pink-and-yellow designs. She could watch both babies by changing the channel.

  “The wonders of technology.” A smile shone in his voice.

  She knew Mitch was good with electronics and especially computers. He was the first at the office to understand a new system, to fix glitches, to teach someone else the intricacies of a program.

  “Are systems like this a side hobby for you?”

  “Always have been. I’m self-taught. The skills come in handy now and then.”

  As long as she’d known Mitch, he’d downplayed what he did and who he helped. “You’re a good man, Mitch.”

  He looked surprised for a moment.