A Baby for Easter (9 page)

Alice chuckled and adjusted her position so she was closer
to the baby.

“Do you want to try?” he asked, handing her the spoon.

She took it immediately and spooned out a little cereal, guiding
it toward Cara’s mouth. The baby smacked her lips around it and got a little
into her mouth.

Micah frowned. “She eats it a lot better from you.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

He took the spoon from her hand again and tried to feed Cara
a bite. The baby flapped her arms and knocked the spoon, flinging the cereal so
far it landed on the grass past the blanket.

“See. I told you.”

Alice couldn’t help but laugh at Micah’s aggrieved
expression and Cara’s flailing enthusiasm. “I’m sure it’s not personal. I’ve
been feeding her a lot. Try it again.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh and spooned out more cereal. “So
the interview was okay? How did you feel about it?”

“Everything went smoothly. Everyone seemed nice. I guess
I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Did you get a sense of whether you’d—” His question was
interrupted when Cara grabbed the spoon from his hand, waving it around with
complete disregard to the food it had been holding.

It wasn’t holding the food anymore. The cereal landed with a
splat on Micah’s chin.

Alice burst into laughter at his expression.

He gave her a narrow-eyed glare. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Sorry.” Alice tried to restrain her giggles, but was mostly
unsuccessful. “Cara, be a good girl and eat for your daddy.”

Cara babbled out a response that was made up mostly of repeated
“ga” and “ah” sounds.

“That’s right,” Alice said, as if she’d understood the
words. “Your daddy is doing the best he can, given the circumstances, so you
should show him a little pity.”

Cara’s eyes were now following the spoon which Micah had
retrieved and was guiding toward her little mouth. She flung out her arm, but
he was watching for it this time, and he maneuvered the spoon around it. She
deigned to take the spoonful, spitting out only half of it.

“Very good,” Micah murmured, his voice warm and his eyes
fixed on his daughter. “That was kind of a bite.”

“It was a good bite,” Alice argued. “Don’t raise the bar too
high for her.”

Cara took a few more bites, which seemed to please Micah
inordinately. Then she grabbed the spoon again and, because Micah was leaning
toward her, she flapped it toward his face.

“Ouch,” Micah said gently, taking the spoon out of her hand.
“We don’t use the spoon to wallop daddy on the nose.”

Alice felt a sudden wave of emotion—warm, tender, completely
unfamiliar because the feeling had nothing to do with
her
at all.

She wondered if there was any way Micah would be able to let
Cara go, now that he’d learned to love her.

***

A few hours later, Micah pulled the
SUV into the driveway of his house.

Cara was sound asleep in her seat, and Alice had drifted
into a light doze herself for the last hour.

She was startled and disoriented when she realized they’d
arrive home. Then she felt a little embarrassed for falling asleep. “Oh,
sorry,” she said, straightening up quickly and smoothing back the thick curls
that had slipped out of the knot.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For falling asleep. Not very good company.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to entertain me.” He hadn’t yet
gotten out of the car. He was just looking at her with that same quiet
expression she saw so often.

“Oh. Okay.” Feeling awkward and uncertain, Alice busied
herself with slipping on her shoes and grabbing her purse and Cara’s bag.

Micah got out and leaned into the back seat to unlatch the
baby seat from the base.

Alice walked around to stand next to him. “I can come in and
get Cara fed and changed.”

Micah set the carrier on the ground and took the baby bag from
Alice’s hand. “You’re tired.
 
I can do
it. You should just relax for the rest of the day. You don’t have to work.”

“Oh. Okay.” She lowered her eyes, not saying anything
because it felt strange to admit that feeding and changing Cara didn’t really
feel like work to her.

“So how do you feel about things?” Micah asked, his voice
sounding a little strange—stretched or something.

Her eyes shot up, suddenly terrified he’d seen through her.
“About…Cara?”

He gave a huff of dry amusement and looked off to the side
for a moment. “No. About the interview, I meant. Do you think you’d like to
work at that college?”

“I don’t know. I guess. The people seemed nice.”

“And the job?”

She didn’t know why he sounded so diffident, but it was making
her feel rather flustered. “It sounds like the kind of job I’m looking for. But
they might not hire me, you know.”

“But they might.”

“Yeah. I suppose.” She swallowed hard, wanting to look down
and hide her expression but compelled to keep gazing up at Micah’s handsome, hesitant
face.

“Why do you sound like you don’t think they will? Didn’t the
interview go okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. But things haven’t exactly been falling in
my lap lately, so I’ve gotten so I don’t expect good things to happen.”

His odd hesitance transformed into a frown. “Why wouldn’t
good things happen for you?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know theoretically they could. But
it just feels like…” She felt too vulnerable admitting such a thing, so she
trailed off and looked down at the ground again.

He lifted her chin with one hand so she was meeting his
eyes. “It feels like what?”

“I don’t know. It sounds silly, I’m sure, but it just sometimes
feels like the world is taunting me with…with…” She thought for a moment for an
appropriate analogy. “…with a big basket of beautiful flowers, making me think
they could be mine. But then, when I reach out for them, all I get is a broken
dandelion.”

Micah was frowning again. “Why would you think that? Because
you lost your job and those fiancés proved themselves to be ass—” He broke off,
glancing down guiltily at Cara. “Jerks.”

“Not just that. It’s just…everything.” She couldn’t really
explain, not without admitting too much. You could hardly to admit to the man
in question that the big basket of flowers you really wanted was him and his
daughter.

“I’m sure there will be flowers for you, Alice.” His voice
had changed, gotten soft, almost rough.

She felt shaky and emotional, and she was afraid to look at
his face. For some reason, she instead focused on his broad shoulders, the way
his shirt stretched over the lines of his chest and abdomen.

Suddenly, she wanted to touch him. So powerfully the feeling
swept through her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way before.

Then she realized she
was
touching him. She’d reached without realizing it and put a hand lightly on his
chest.

“All kinds of flowers,” he went on, thicker than before. He
raised a hand to cover the one she rested on his chest. “And much better ones
than dandelions. You deserve so much more than that.”

She couldn’t resist the urge to look up then, and her breath
hitched when she saw his expression. He looked like he meant what he said. Like
there was rich feeling almost tangible in his expression.

She drifted toward him unconsciously, wanting to be close to
him in every way, wanting to feel his body, his lips, his heart, in a way she’d
never wanted to feel a man before.

Even more than she’d ever wanted to feel the boy she’d known
in summer camp.

Then Cara made a funny little sound as she started to wake
up, and Micah released a strange shuddering breath. He lowered her hand from
his chest and pulled his own hand away.

“I better get her in,” he said, his tone still strangely
thick but very different now. He’d turned away from her as he leaned to pick
the baby up.

“Yeah,” she said to his back. “Thanks for driving me.”

“No problem. Have a good night.”

And then he was walking into the house, carrying the carrier
and the baby bag, leaving Alice alone with a lot of lingering feelings—some
physical and some emotional—and nothing at all to do with them.

She gave a silent, bitter laugh as she walked up the stairs
to her apartment. What else would she have expected?

Another broken dandelion.

The dinner at Daniel and Jessica’s had
been rescheduled from last Friday to the next Friday because Daniel had to do a
funeral the previous week.

Alice arrived at their lovely old house at exactly six
o’clock, which was when Jessica had told her to come. She’d gone to her parents’
house from work to get the salad bowl she needed and had just made the salad
there so she wouldn’t be late.

She knocked, wrapping one arm around her salad bowl to hold
it steady.

“It’s open,” Daniel called out from inside. “Come on in.”

She opened the door and was greeted by a big, pure white,
long-haired dog.

“Well, hello,” she said to the dog, who wagged its tail
happily and then sat down, obviously expecting to be petted.

Alice obliged, laughing when the dog panted enthusiastically
and then jumped up and turned a couple of circles.

“It’s okay, honey,” she heard from what must be the kitchen.
She recognized Daniel’s voice. “No one is going to care.”

“It’s not okay. It’s terrible. I can’t ask anyone to eat
it!” That was Jessica, and she sounded very upset about something.

“It tastes fine. It really does.”

“But the consistency—” Jessica broke off as Alice stepped
hesitantly into the kitchen. “Come in,” Jessica said. “Sorry. I was just having
a minor food catastrophe.”

“Oh.” Alice looked at the food in question—a loaf of bread
that had just been sliced. “It looks good. Did you make it yourself?”

“Yes!” Jessica wailed, wiping her hands on her pants.
“That’s why it’s a disaster.”

Daniel was leaning against the counter, laughing
uninhibitedly.

Jessica swatted at him. “Stop laughing at my trauma and go
take the salad from Alice.”

He grinned and winked at Alice as he took the salad bowl, as
instructed. “Ooh,” he said, looking down in the bowl. “Are those strawberries”

“Yeah. I tried to dress the salad up some.”

“Thank you so much for making it.” Jessica cut a little
chunk of the bread and handed it to her. “You’re a lifesaver. Now try this and
tell me if it’s edible.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Alice said, popping the piece in her
mouth. When the taste was good, she nodded and mumbled, “Mm hmm.”

“Just wait,” Jessica warned, while Daniel laughed some more.

Alice chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And
finally managed to swallow. At Jessica’s mournful look, she said, “It tastes
good. It’s just a little…chewy.”

“Nice try,” Daniel said, elbowing her in a friendly way.
“But she’s not going to believe you.”

“I’ve already called Micah and told him to pick up a loaf on
his way over. So we won’t be breadless.” Jessica leaned over to peek in the
oven. “Hopefully the roast turns out all right.”

“Well, if it’s as chewy as the first one you made, at least
it will match the bread.” Daniel sidestepped out of the way when Jessica tried
to swat him with a hot pad. He was grinning as he grabbed the hot pad and then
grabbed Jessica in a quick hug.

Growing up, Alice had always understood Daniel to be the
serious Duncan boy and Micah to be the laidback, laughing one. But they seemed
to have switched characteristics lately.

Then Alice processed something that had been said earlier.
“So Micah is coming to dinner too?”

“Yeah. He and Cara are coming. They’re just late because he
had to get the bread. Oh, and help yourself.” Jessica gestured toward a plate
of crackers and cheese on the counter, while Daniel started to pour out red
wine.

Then Alice glanced over to the table and saw it was only set
for four. “No one else is coming?”

“No. Just us.” Jessica smiled casually. “You may have
noticed that cooking isn’t my forte, so smaller dinners work better for me.”

“Okay. Sounds good.” Alice was actually relieved, since
she’d been expecting a bigger group, which would mean she’d have to be “on.”
This would be more comfortable, and maybe Micah would be more himself around
his brother.

She went to slice off some cheese and put it on a cracker,
so she had something to focus on when she heard Micah’s cheerful voice from the
front door. “We’re here. The bread crisis is averted.”

Alice turned around and moved into a corner out of the way,
sipping her wine and holding her cracker in the other. She saw as Daniel went
over to take the bread from his brother and make a dry comment about “delusions
of bread grandeur.”

Micah had Cara in one arm, her baby bag over one shoulder,
and her empty carrier in his free hand. He wore khakis and a slightly better
shirt than normal, and he was grinning at his brother and at Jessica when she
ran over to him.

“Hello to you too,” he teased, when Jessica grabbed Cara out
of his arm and hugged the baby.

Then his eyes finally drifted over to where Alice was
standing, and she saw it happen. He stiffened, almost imperceptibly, and his
grin faded. “Alice,” he said, obviously surprised.

Clearly he hadn’t been told of the guest list either.

“Hi,” she said, trying for casual, although she was hurt by
the way he’d lost all his warm, teasing demeanor when he’d seen her. She’d
thought they’d been getting along pretty well lately. “I had to get the salad
bowl from my mom, or I guess we could have ridden over together.”

Micah’s blue eyes shifted from her to Jessica and then to
his brother, but he didn’t say anything.

“Alice made the best salad,” Jessica said. “It’s got
strawberries and what looks like glazed pecans and, ooh, blue cheese on it. Put
it on the table, will you, Micah, and, Daniel, cut the bread and stop eating
all the cheese.”

Daniel grabbed another slice of cheese before he went to
slice the bread. Alice wasn’t sure what to do, so she poured a glass of wine
for Micah and handed it to him when he returned from putting the salad on the
table.

Jessica had to relinquish Cara, so Alice went to put the
baby back in her seat and brought her over to the table. Since she seemed quiet
and content for the moment, she settled the carrier in the dining area and
hoped the baby would give them a chance to eat before she started to fuss.

Dinner was better than she’d expected. Micah was quiet at
first, and Alice was a little uncomfortable, but Jessica and Daniel were in top
form, and soon Alice was giggling and Micah was more like himself. They talked
about the church and about how far along Micah was in the house he was flipping
and about Alice’s interview at the college. They talked about Cara’s
grandparents—Heather’s mom and dad—who had come into town yesterday to spend
time with Cara. And they talked about Bear, the big white dog who sat at
attention during the entire meal, obviously hoping to be rewarded with a bite.

She’d given Cara one disdainful sniff and then studiously
ignored her—perhaps seeing her as competition for attention and food.

The meal was good, since it was supplemented with bakery-bought
bread, and Alice was enjoying herself when Cara started to whimper, evidently
tired of being left out of the excitement for so long.

Micah reached for the baby and pulled out a prepared bottle,
since she was probably getting hungry.

“Oh, can I feed her?” Jessica asked, scooting her chair back
from the table a little.

Micah handed Cara over, and Alice watched as Jessica cradled
her and offered her the bottle.

Cara didn’t care who was offering the bottle, as long as it
was offered. She sucked greedily.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jessica murmured, glancing over at
Micah. “Those are definitely your eyes.”

Micah gave a half-smile. “She’s a lot prettier than me.”

“Thank God for that,” Daniel put in.

“That’s right,” Jessica cooed at Cara. “You’re much prettier
than your daddy, aren’t you? He’ll have to scare all the boys away when they
start to come around when you get older. He’s not going to like that at all.”

“Jessica,” Daniel murmured. His voice was low and gentle but
held a kind of quiet authority.

She looked in surprise at her husband, who gave her a
significant look and made a slight gesture of his head toward Micah.

Jessica obviously understood the look. Her expression broke
with regret. “I’m sorry, Micah. I wasn’t thinking. I know you haven’t made any
decisions yet, and I didn’t mean to assume…I mean, I’d never put any pressure
on you to—”

“I know,” Micah assured her, smiling, just a little
poignant. He looked suddenly tired as he glanced over to Alice briefly before
his eyes rested on Cara. “I know you weren’t. And the truth is…the truth is I
don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go now.”

He sounded so vulnerable and the words made her so
happy—irrationally so, since it wasn’t her business whether Micah kept Cara or chose
adoption instead—that Alice was suddenly emotional. Her eyes burned
unexpectedly.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel said. “Good that you know. And I
think it’s a good decision.”

“Do you?” Micah leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know. I
can’t help thinking she’d be better off with someone else.”

“No,” Alice put in, unable to not say the words. “That’s not
true. She’s better off with her daddy. With you.”

He met her eyes, and there seemed to be a question in his
expression.

So she nodded, affirming her words, in response to the
unspoken question. “You’re really good with her. And you’ll learn the things
you don’t know now, just like everyone else.”

He was breathing heavily, but something relaxed in his
expression. “Yeah,” he said on an exhale.

When Alice was finally able to look away, her cheeks flushed
when she remembered they weren’t alone in the room. Daniel seemed to be scrutinizing
her thoughtfully, and she had no idea what was going through his mind.

Jessica had been watching too, but now she looked down at
Cara. “Did you hear that, Cara? Your daddy might not know a lot now, but he’s a
pretty fast learner. You’ll be happy to have him as a daddy, won’t you?”

Cara let the bottle slip out of her mouth and stared up at
Jessica, a little formula dribbling out of her mouth.

Jessica smiled and lifted her up, patting her back until she
burped up an impressive amount of what she’d swallowed. “Very good. You must
get that burping ability from your uncle.”

“Hey,” Daniel objected to this unprovoked sally.

Jessica laughed, which made Cara laugh too, and then Jessica
pulled the baby into a spontaneous hug.

Alice saw her meet Daniel’s eyes over Cara’s little head,
and the other woman mouthed something to him that looked like, “I want one.”

Without thinking, Alice turned to see Daniel’s response. He
clearly was aware of no one in the room but his wife. His brown eyes were full
of something akin to adoration, and he replied just as silently to her.

Alice wasn’t entirely sure, but it looked like he’d mouthed,
“Just say the word.”

And, for no good reason, witnessing the intimate little
moment pushed Alice’s emotions into overdrive. Jessica and Daniel understood
each other so well—they could communicate almost without words—and they loved
each other and enjoyed each other and respected each other.

And cared for the other more than they did themselves.

And it made Alice cry. A tear actually slipped from one of her
eyes.

Micah was sitting there at the table too, right next to her,
but there was no way she could look over to see what he was thinking. Not when
what she really wanted was the same kind of relationship with him.

Horribly embarrassed, she excused herself briefly and
hurried to the bathroom.

She got her emotions under control quickly enough, reminding
herself of her fifth rule. No daydreaming about a future when none had been
offered to her.

When she returned to the table, the mood had shifted, and
Jessica was playing with Cara, asking her how she would like to have a couple
of cousins as friends.

But, when Alice sat down, it caught Cara’s attention, and
the baby reached out for her.

“Oh, no,” Alice told the baby. “You play with your Aunt
Jessica.”

Cara was not swayed by this piece of instruction. She just
reached out more insistently and started to whimper.

Micah chuckled and took Cara to hand her over to Alice.
“Don’t take it personally,” he told Jessica. “She likes Alice better than
everyone.”

Alice cuddled Cara, feeling ridiculously relieved to have
her back in her arms. “That’s just because I’m around her so much.”

She wiped a little smear of formula off Cara’s chin with her
finger and smoothed out her dark hair, rocking the baby a little in the hopes
that she might drift back to sleep.

When she glanced up, she saw everyone was looking at her.

“Did Micah tell you about what happened when he tried to
give her a bath last night?” she asked, using the first thing to come into her
mind as a diversion.

“Hey,” he said, giving her an aggrieved look.

She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Jessica said. “Do tell.”

“He, uh, didn’t get the diaper on quickly enough afterwards.
He made the mistake of holding her before he put it on.”

Daniel gave a burst of laughter. “Did she pee all over him?”

“Oh no,” Alice said, while Micah muttered and glared at her.
“She didn’t pee.”

So they all had a good laugh at Micah’s expense, and Alice
thought of a couple more choice incidents to share, which led to even more
laughter.

Then Micah, naturally, sought retribution by narrating in
extended detail her attempt to move the shelving unit in her bathroom and how
he’d had to come rescue her.

They were all laughing over his entertaining story, and
Alice was feeling happy and relaxed, smiling at Micah over Cara’s head.

He seemed like himself. The Micah she remembered. He
appeared to be enjoying himself, enjoying
her
.