A Baby for Easter (7 page)

She would do better. She wouldn’t start to daydream or
interpret Micah’s behavior in ways that gave her hope that had no foundation.

She had a lot of good things in her life. Easter was less
than two weeks away now. It had always been her favorite time of the year and
would center her mind on what was really important.

Not silly dreams about a man she could never have.

To distract herself, she checked her email and was surprised
to find an email from the library of a small college outside of Asheville.

She’d applied there more than two months ago and had written
it off as a loss when she hadn’t heard anything.

But here was an email, asking if she was available for an
interview next week.

An interview. For a full-time job at a college library. Exactly
what she was looking for.

Almost two hours away.

She really should be happy about it.

On Saturday morning, Micah came over
to bolt her bathroom shelves more securely into the wall, to prevent any
further catastrophes.

He’d set Cara on a mat on the floor of the main room, but
she’d eventually fallen asleep. Alice was ostensibly watching her while Micah
worked, but mostly she was using it as an excuse not to watch Micah, since that
might incline her mind in bad directions.

Micah kept talking to her, though. Just casual small talk
about the big rummage sale the church was organizing and her work in the
library, but she had to keep coming into the hall to stand in the bathroom
doorway so they weren’t talking between rooms.

Which meant she had to see him work.

Her eyes kept slipping to his tight butt and strong legs in
his worn jeans. To his broad shoulders and powerful back beneath the fabric of
his t-shirt. To the way his impressive biceps tightened and rippled as he held
the shelving unit in place.

She wondered what it would feel like to touch him—his arms,
shoulders, back, legs, butt. She wondered what his big, callused hands would
feel like if they touched her.

“Did you hear me?” Micah asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Alice’s cheeks blazed as his voice pierced her heated
thoughts. “What…yes, no…what?”

His brow lowered in confusion as he turned back to
unsuccessfully try to move the now bolted shelving unit.

She forced herself to pull it together, furious with herself
for letting her mind go down such futile paths. Admiring—wanting—a man she
could never have would only lead to misery. “Sorry,” she said. “What did you
say?”

“I said I was wondering if you…” He trailed off strangely,
his eyes still on the shelves. “I was thinking about taking Cara on a hike this
afternoon, since it’s such a nice day.”

Alice recovered enough to hide her previous fluster with a
joke. “How far do you think she’ll make it up the trail?”

Micah laughed, a little distractedly, evidently still
ascertaining that the shelf was stable. “I got a backpack thing for her. It
won’t be a long hike. Just an hour or two.”

“That will be fun.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

Alice blinked. “Oh. Sure. I’ll be happy to help with her.
And I like to hike.” She smiled, since the hike sounded a lot more fun than her
previous plans for the afternoon—which had been to clean house and try not to
daydream about Micah.

He turned partly toward her, so she could see his profile.
He had a strange expression. “Well, I didn’t mean you’d have to—”

Cara cried then, so Alice went back into the living room to
pick her up. She checked her diaper, but it was dry, so she carried her back to
the bathroom.

“Is she okay?” Micah asked.

“Yeah. She’s probably just hungry.” Alice jostled the baby,
relieved when Cara’s crying tapered off into little whimpers.

“I’m almost done here. I’ll take her home to feed her in
just a minute.”

“What were you saying before?” Alice asked, trying to
remember the previous thread of conversation regarding the hike.

“Oh.” Micah turned back to check the shelf one more time,
but it didn’t move—just like it hadn’t all the other times he’d checked it.
“Nothing. I can’t really remember.”

“Okay. Well, what time were you thinking for the hike?”

“About one?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.” She watched as he picked up
his tools. “Thanks for doing that.” She nodded toward the shelves to indicate
his work on it.

“Sure. Of course.” His blue eyes looked up at her face and
then down. Then up again at her face and then down. “It’s my thing. The
apartment, I mean.”

“Of course.” It was a good reminder that he wasn’t working
on her shelves as an act of generosity to her, but because it was his
responsibility.

Micah was a good guy, but he wasn’t going out of his way to
be nice to her. She needed to keep things in perspective.

She suddenly wondered if this hike was a good idea after
all, but she couldn’t bring herself to change her mind and not go.

***

The hike was good—surprisingly easy
and enjoyable.

They drove just out of town to a well-established hiking
trail up a mountain, near where their summer camp had been. Micah secured Cara
in the backpack carrier, and she cooed happily as they walked through the
sunshine and shade of the trail.

They talked about the trail, about the wildlife and growth
that Micah pointed out, about hikes Alice had taken in Asheville, and about
Cara. Micah seemed relaxed. He smiled a lot. And Alice was washed with familiar
feelings of closeness and fondness.

This was Micah. The Micah she remembered. The Micah she
knew. The Micah who seemed to match her in an inexplicable way.

“Oh,” Alice said as the trail bent around through the woods
and then came out on a clearing that sloped down into an expansive view. “It’s
Hanging Rock. I didn’t realize it was so close, since I used to always come up
to it from the other direction.”

The other direction was the camp, from whence she’d often
passed by this location, clearly identifiable by the large piece of rock
extending from the side of the mountain over the trail.

“Yeah,” Micah said, gazing around after turning back to
check on Cara, who had fallen asleep behind him. “I used to come here all the
time.”

“Really? You mean from camp?”

“No. All the time. Once I was able to drive, I’d come out
here. I’d sit right there.” He gestured to a grassy area that had a clear view
of the gently rolling mountains. “And I’d just…”

“Just what?” she asked, her voice strangely breathless.

He glanced away, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Think. Pray.
Work things out.”

“Oh.” She thought about how different her own associations
with this spot were. She only thought about it in connection to that summer,
which meant in connection to him. “We came here a lot,” she said, without
thinking. “That summer, I mean.”

“I know.” The resonance of his deep voice sounded significant.

When she looked over at him, she saw he was gazing at her
with eyes that seemed to promise the same things they had those summer
evenings, when she’d poured out her heart and her dreams to him.

Reminding herself she’d been wrong about what she’d seen in
his eyes then and she was wrong about it now, she gave him a little smile and
glanced away.

But because she was feeling close to him, she couldn’t help
but ask, “Did something happen in college?”

She saw him stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?”

“In college. When you…when you changed. Did something
happen? I always wondered.”

He released a long breath, staring out at the mountains in
the distance. “No. Nothing happened.”

“Then why did you change so much?”

“I don’t know.” He must not have his normal defenses up
either, since he answered much more easily than she expected. “There’s no good
reason for it. Nothing happened. Nothing provoked it. I just wasn’t around
people I knew, people who knew me. So I could be anyone I wanted.”

“But why did you want to be that…that guy? He wasn’t you.”

“I know he wasn’t me.
 
I think that’s why I wanted to be him. I’ve always felt…”

When he didn’t finish, she prompted, “You’ve always felt
what?”

“Like I’m not quite good enough for my family.”

Her lips parted slightly because she was so bothered by the
words. “What are you talking about? You were good at everything, all through
school.”

“I was good at sports, and I had a lot of friends. But I
always felt like I wasn’t smart enough or serious enough to be part of my family.
I mean, Daniel was always destined for seminary. And I couldn’t do anything
more than throw a ball and make people laugh. And ask girls out.”

“Micah,” Alice began, her heart jumping painfully.

“I didn’t feel good enough to be the person everyone thought
I should be. I was just…me.”

“There was nothing wrong with being you. Not everyone should
be preachers. No one expected you to be just like Daniel.”

“I know. But I guess I always felt like the odd man out—so,
when I was away from home and had no accountability, I just…became someone
else.”

“Is that what it felt like? Like you were someone else?”

He nodded and met her eyes. “I didn’t like him, even then.”

“So what brought you back?”

“A lot of things. Daniel and my folks never gave up on me.
And I’d been less and less satisfied with not living what I believed. Then one
morning—it was right after I spent the night with Heather—I looked at myself in
the mirror and just hated myself. I
hated
myself. I saw everything that was ugly in me. And it was like I could hear God
talking to me, saying I didn’t have to be that man. So I just…came back.”

“Do you feel like yourself now?”

His mouth twisted oddly. “More like me.”

“Why not totally like you?”

“I’ve changed too much to be the boy I was in high school.”
He gave her a quick, diffident look. “The one you used to know. I spent year
being that other guy, and you can’t escape those kinds of…consequences. That
other me keeps trying to drag me back, still trying to break me.”

She thought about that for a long time. When she raised her
eyes again, having gotten her her thoughts together, she saw Micah was watching
her, waiting for her response. “I know how you feel,” she admitted.

“I doubt it.” Despite the curt words, his expression was
almost fond.

With an annoyed frown, she replied, “Why wouldn’t I know? I
have another me too, you know. I’ve been trying to…to resurrect my life since
I’ve come home—to not be stupid, to not invest myself in lost causes, to not
make up daydreams I think will make me happy, to focus on what my real
priorities should be. But it’s hard, since that other Alice keeps rearing her
head.”

His expression changed into a little smile. “What do you do
when she does?”

She wasn’t quite ready to tell him about her five rules, so
she said instead, “I tell her to go away. That Easter is coming, and because of
Easter I know the old Alice is already taken care.”

His smile changed to something deeper. “Yeah.”

Alice raised a hand without thinking and placed it on his
chest. “That’s true of that other Micah too, you know.”

“Yeah.”
 
He gazed down
on her, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.

Then Cara started to whimper and flail her arms as she woke
up, and whatever the moment had been was over.

The rest of the hike was pleasant and companionable, but
that moment never came back.

***

A few days later, Alice studied
herself in the mirror, hoping she looked appropriate for a candidate for a
position at a college library.

She wore a pale blue twinset with a gray pencil skirt and,
instead of uncomfortable pumps, loafers with two inch heels. She’d pulled her
long curly hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck and put on a little
makeup.

She looked nice, slightly old-fashioned, but like she was
making an effort. She figured she would fit in at any academic library she’d
ever known.

It would have to do.

It wasn’t even six-thirty in the morning, but her interview
was at nine-thirty, and she had to drive two hours to get there.

At least the college was paying for the mileage for her
trip.

She grabbed her bag and stepped out onto the landing of the
stairs that led down from her apartment to the ground.

As she was making her way down, Micah came out the side door
of the house, holding Cara in his arms.

He must have come out because he saw her, since he walked
over to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

He was watching her with that familiar sober expression, the
one that made her feel so uncomfortable, since it didn’t seem like him at all.
“You look nice,” he said.

His voice wasn’t warm or particularly admiring, so she
assumed he was just being polite. “Thanks. You’re going to be okay with her
today?” She reached over to stroke Cara’s cheek, since the baby looked so sweet
and sleepy.

“Yeah. We’ll be fine. I don’t have to go out today. I
figured I’d finish up the woodwork in the living room.”

“Well, don’t let her play with any power tools.”

He gave her a mild eye roll.

“Okay. I better get going. I want to leave time for any
traffic problems or to get lost.” She leaned over to kiss Cara’s cheek, brushing
against Micah’s body more than she’d intended.

More and more, she was growing intensely aware of him—his
body, his presence—and she wasn’t used to feeling that way around men.

Even with the men she’d been interested in before, even with
the men she’d been engaged to, she hadn’t been so conscious of their
physicality. Not the way she was feeling with Micah right now.

“Well, do well at the interview.” He wasn’t anywhere close
to smiling at her as she stepped back from him and Cara.

“I’ll try.”

She felt nervous and unsettled and not excited about the
interview at all, but she had to do it. To not go to the interview would be
making a decision about staying in Willow Park for the long-term, and there was
absolutely no reason for her to do that.

She hiked up her skirt as she got into the car and waved at
Micah as he stood on the walk with Cara, both of them watching her.

When she turned the ignition, her car made a startling noise
and then nothing happened. She turned it again. Still nothing.

She swore under her breath and inhaled deeply, trying the
ignition one more time.

Nothing.

As she got out, she saw Micah was already on his way over to
the car.

She asked, “Is it the battery, do you think?” She didn’t
know anything about cars, but she knew batteries were a fairly easy fix.