A Baby for Easter (4 page)

She could lie, but there wasn’t any point in that. She and
Jana had always been honest, even about embarrassing things. “Maybe on my side.
Not on his.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s pretty obvious. It’s getting a little better
now, but he’s just not himself around me. He doesn’t smile or laugh like he does
around other people. I don’t think he likes me. He’s just not…himself.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. You’ve never done anything to
him. And you said he’s come back to the church and his faith and everything,
right?”

“Yeah. But I don’t know. It’s like he’s…” She trailed off as
she tried to articulate what she’d sensed in Micah ever since she returned to
Willow Park.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Like he’s always holding something back. With
me.” She sighed. “I don’t know why. We used to be friends. I’d like to be
friends again now.”

“Okay, tell me the truth. Wouldn’t you like to be more than
friends with him?”

“Maybe. But I’m not going to be stupid anymore. I’m going to
follow my rules. I’m not going to dream about him and trick my feelings into
hoping for something that will never happen.”

“But do you want it to happen?”

“I
can’t
want it.”

“But
do
you want
it?”

Alice sighed, a bleak heaviness settling into her chest.
“Yeah. It’s not like I’ve been pining for him all this time, but as soon as I
came back and started seeing him regularly again, all those feelings came back.
But I’m a grown-up now and I know better. I’m not going to indulge them. I’m
not
.”

“Good for you. You stay strong.” It sounded like Jana might
have been laughing, but her voice changed as she asked, “Do you think you want
the boy he used to be, rather than the man he is now?”

Alice had no idea how to answer that question, so she didn’t
even try.

“Because, you know,” Jana continued softly, “the boy is
never coming back.”

Alice knew it was true, and it made her sad for some reason.
At least the boy had been Micah as he really was, and she wasn’t sure she’d
seen that Micah for years.

***

A couple of days later, Alice was
reading a book on Micah’s couch, waiting for him to get home.

He was out checking over several projects that his crew had
been working on that week. He was usually around a lot more than he’d been in
the last few days—since he’d had to spend so much time caring for Cara—so Alice
figured he was getting anxious about the work that had been going on in his
absence.

He’d been a contractor for several years now, and he’d built
a really good business by being trustworthy and hardworking. Even in the years
he’d been playing around in his private life, he’d done a good job
professionally.

It was almost eight now, though. It seemed kind of late. She
was going to have to put Cara to bed soon. While she didn’t mind babysitting
late, Micah hadn’t implied he was going to do anything but work.

Of course, he didn’t have to tell her everything he did. He
could go out on a date, if he wanted.

It would just have been nice to know when he was coming
back.

The week had gone fairly smoothly, considering. Alice had
moved into the little apartment and had furnished it with the bare necessities.
Cara was a healthy and fairly good-natured baby, so she hadn’t been unusually
difficult to care for. Alice felt like she’d figured out the basics pretty
well, and even Micah was learning to feed and change her without a lot of
hassle. Having her at the church while she worked was sometimes rather
distracting, but Daniel didn’t seem to mind. Other than that, the week had
passed quickly and everyone was kind of in a holding pattern, waiting to see
what would happen with Cara’s future.

Whether Micah would decide to try to raise her on his own
was still in question. Alice was sure not even he knew that yet. He was talking
to a lawyer and getting a paternity test, so nothing would be decided until
that was figured out.

Finally, Alice put her book down and went over to pick up
Cara, who was bouncing happily in the little seat Micah had bought her. “Are
you ready for a bath?” she asked Cara. “Then you can go to bed.”

Cara babbled out some excited sounds.

Glad she was in a good mood, Alice carried her into the
bathroom and filled her little bathtub with warm water.

She was kneeling next to the tub, since there wasn’t a sink
in the old house big enough to fit the baby tub, and giving her a bath when she
heard Micah call out from the side door, “Alice? I’m home.”

“We’re in the bathroom.”

A few seconds later, a voice said from the doorway, “Is everything
okay?”

She glanced back to see him leaning against the doorframe.
He wore khakis and a black t-shirt and needed to shave. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’s
bedtime, so I’m just giving her a bath.”

He came over to kneel beside her, blinking when Cara splashed
water enthusiastically.

“She’s happy to see you,” Alice said, feeling rather soft
and sappy at the baby’s excitement about seeing her daddy. Or, the man who was
probably her daddy.

It was all a little awkward not to know for sure.

Cara babbled incomprehensibly and splashed a little more.

Micah chuckled and reached over to his daughter, and Cara
grabbed his finger and didn’t let go.

Alice finished bathing her, with Micah pretending to help
but mostly getting in the way. Then they wrapped her in a towel, and Alice
said, “I’ll just go put her down. I made some stew earlier and there’s plenty
left over, if you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not.”

“I haven’t had anything. But you didn’t have to make
anything for me.”

She shrugged. The truth was she’d made enough for Micah on
purpose, but she didn’t want to admit it, for fear he might misinterpret. “It’s
hard to just cook for one person. Just help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“And there’s some bread there too,” Alice added, carrying
Cara into the second bedroom which Micah had set up for the baby.

The room had been empty before, since Micah owned very
little furniture, only things that could be easily moved from place to place.
Now it had the portable crib/playard, a lightweight changing table, and a chair.

Alice put her in a clean diaper and some pink pajamas. Then
turned on music and sat on the chair to rock her for a few minutes, in the
hopes that she’d go to sleep without fussing.

She cuddled the soft little body against her and talked to
her soothingly about how it was time to go to sleep. Cara blinked up at her and
babbled a little, and Alice found herself smiling like a dope.

Cara really was a sweet little thing. She couldn’t imagine
how anyone wouldn’t want her.

After a few minutes, Cara started getting sleepy and nestled
against her. Alice kept rocking her, but she definitely understood why most
nurseries had a rocker in them. As small as the baby was, it was rather tiring
to keep manually rocking her for several minutes.

When Cara seemed to be asleep, Alice stood up. And almost
jerked when she realized that Micah was in the doorway, holding a bowl of what
must be stew.

He was just standing there, gazing at her, his face utterly
sober.

“She’s asleep,” Alice whispered, telling herself not to feel
uncomfortable, as if she’d been caught doing something secret.

All she’d been doing was getting Cara to bed, exactly as she
was supposed to do.

She laid her down in the crib and then left the room, with
the door partly open, the music still playing.

She shook out her arms as she walked with Micah into the
kitchen.

“That recliner in the living room rocks. You can use that if
you want.” He must have noticed that her arms were tired.

“Oh. I didn’t think about that. Thanks.”

“This is really good,” he said, eating a spoonful as they
walked.

“Thanks. It’s my mom’s recipe. You just dump a bunch of
things in the pot.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to explain how easy
it was. She could have let Micah believe it was a complex, difficult recipe and
she was a master cook.

He put his bowl on the kitchen counter and reached into the
refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of beer and offered it to her.

She hesitated only briefly before she accepted it. She
normally left to go to her apartment when Cara was in bed and Micah was home,
but maybe he wanted to talk over some things.

He got a beer for himself and cut some bread from the loaf
on the counter, and then carried his meal into the living room.

She followed and sat beside him on the couch, since he
clearly expected her to.

“How was everything?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything
immediately.

She knew he was an easy talker, so it seemed strange he was
so often quiet around her.

When he looked at her questioningly, she added, “With your
jobs or projects or whatever. Your crew was doing fine this week?”

“Oh. Yeah. Everything was fine.” He seemed to be focusing on
his stew, which was quickly disappearing.

“Good.”

They drifted into silence again, and Alice was starting to
feel a little annoyed. He was the one who’d acted like he had something to say
to her, and now she was stuck sitting awkwardly beside him, feeling like he
didn’t want her there.

She sipped her beer and tried again, “Cara did well today. She
was in a good mood all day. She loves her little bouncy seat.”

He glanced over at the seat in question, which seemed
strangely out of place amid the rather Spartan interior of the old house.
“Good.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Alice decided she would
just sit there until Micah decided to say something himself.

If he didn’t say something soon, then she would just leave
and walk the path to her little apartment and leave him to his stew and
silence.

 
He finished his bowl
and set it down on the side table. Then he leaned back against the couch with
the piece of bread in his hand. He looked over at her.

“What is it?” she asked, rather softly because the look in
his eyes worried her. “Have you heard something about Cara?”

“I got the results from the paternity test. She is my
daughter.”

“Oh.” Alice cleared her throat. Then swallowed. Then cleared
her throat again. “Well, I guess that’s…that’s good to know. Are you…” She had
no idea what to ask. “How do you feel about that?”

“I think it’s…good.” He spoke as stiltingly as she had. “It
would be hard, at this point, to find out she wasn’t mine. She just…feels like
mine.”

“Yeah.” Alice could definitely understand that, and she
thought it spoke well of Micah, since he clearly didn’t want to just get her
out of his hair because it was easier for him.

“But I don’t know what to do now.” He slouched down so his
head rested against the cushion and closed his eyes. “She needs a good life,
and I don’t know if I can give that to her.”

“I’m sure there are hundreds of couples who would love to
adopt her, so that’s always an option.”

“I know.”

She studied his face and thought she saw reluctance there.
“But maybe she needs her daddy.”

He opened his eyes and met hers, and they gazed at each
other for a minute.

“I just don’t know,” he said at last, glancing away. “It’s
not fair to her, if I can’t do it…right.”

“You wouldn’t be alone.” When Micah’s eyes flew to her face
again, with some sort of wordless question, Alice felt flustered and added
quickly, “I mean, you have your family and everyone from the church, and there
would be plenty of people to help you. What does Daniel say?”

“I haven’t told him about the results yet.” He sighed and
took a long sip of beer. “I haven’t told anyone.”

She was someone. At least, she thought she was. Maybe Micah
didn’t really count her as someone important, though.

She shook off the glum reflection and made herself focus on
what was important. “Well, you don’t have to decide immediately. You’ll need to
discuss things with your lawyer before you do anything definite.”

“Yeah.” He sighed and gave her a half-smile. “How do you
always have such a level head about things?”

She didn’t think she had a particularly level head. And, for
some reason, the question bothered her, as if he thought she were some emotionless
drone who was just there to keep things running smoothly. “Just lucky, I
guess,” she said, trying to sound light. She stood up and glanced at the time.
“I better get going. I have to be at the church early tomorrow. I’ll be over
tomorrow morning at around seven, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah.” He looked surprised, but he stood up too, leaving
his beer bottle next to the empty stew bowl. “That’s fine.”

He followed her into the kitchen, where she quickly emptied
the leftover stew into a plastic container and put it in the refrigerator. She
filled the dirty pot with water and told him to just leave it for her to clean
and put up tomorrow.

He made an impatient face, which she was pretty sure meant
the pot would be cleaned and put away when she got there the next morning.

She was about to walk out the side door when he said, “Oh,
wait. I have something for you.”

She blinked. “You do?”

He reached into the bag he’d put on the counter earlier and
pulled out a box of chocolate, cream-filled Easter eggs. He handed them to her,
his expression diffident.

She stared at the candy in startled bewilderment. “These are
my favorite,” she breathed at last.

“I know.” He paused. “I mean, I know they used to be.”

She remembered one long conversation they’d had one evening
at summer camp, when she’d been raving over how much she loved Easter and how
these eggs were her favorite sweet in the world.

But she couldn’t believe he’d remembered.