by Lynn Bulock
Mike was at her elbow again. He set down the infant seat softly on the floor, freeing both hands. “Do you need me to carry you? You’re not dizzy or anything?”
“No, everything’s just catching up with me. If I could walk to the truck yesterday, I can surely walk around my own house today.” Besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea to have Mike pick her up. That would definitely distract her from the business at hand. In his arms she would melt. And melting just wasn’t on the agenda right now.
Lori made it down the short hallway and into Tyler’s room. Every drawer of his dresser was dumped on the floor. What on earth had someone been looking for? The mattress was half off the bed and his blankets strewn about on the floor. Still, nothing was broken or torn.
Her room was much the same. The closet had gotten serious searching. Lori hoped the creep had enjoyed going through her meager possessions. Did he get a real charge out of the silly cardboard box full of memories? The three snapshots that were her wedding pictures? That crumpled envelope that held Tyler’s lock of pale blond hair from his first haircut? Whoever had been in here had pawed through it all, for sure.
The history of her life was on her bedroom floor. Lori sat down there and quietly gathered it all up. All the pieces went back into the heavy cardboard box. As she smoothed the last crumpled piece of paper under her hands, she read it. How macabre. It was Gary’s death certificate. And how very strange. “This can’t be right,” she murmured.
“What?” Mike, ever vigilant, was down on the floor beside her. Mikayla stirred a little when he set her down this time, but settled back to sleep, one small foot kicking out under the blanket.
“See here? I didn’t see this before. It says ‘cause of death: undetermined.’ But the officers were very plain about what killed him. They said he ran off the road, the car went into that pond and he drowned.”
She looked over at Carrie. “Yesterday I heard something in the E.R. Something about Gary and illegal drugs. Do you think this ‘unknown’ business could be related to that?”
“I can check on that later if you like. And I’m sorry you heard something like that in any case. But for now we have to get back to what’s happening in the trailer.” Carrie sounded impatient. “But is there anything missing or broken?”
“Nothing I can see. But I think I want to take this box with me when we go back…to Mike’s.” She almost said back home. Funny how this trailer didn’t feel like home in any way. Maybe it never had. It was sort of a way station, like a bus terminal waiting room. “Should we call the police?”
Carrie looked at Mike. He shrugged. “Your call. Somebody’s been here, for sure. But the lady says nothing is missing, and nothing has been damaged. Whoever is watch commander is going to be really ticked about bringing somebody out on a holiday for a report that isn’t going to go anywhere.”
Lori roused herself from thought, still sitting on the floor. “Let’s just lock up and go back to Mike’s. We can call the police from there tomorrow. We don’t need to ruin anybody’s Christmas over this.”
“Anybody else’s, at least.” One corner of his mouth turned up. It made Mike look even more boyish and even more appealing, if that was possible. “It probably did a good job on yours.”
“Not really. Like we said, nothing is gone or broken. And I don’t have a clue what they were looking for. They left me the few things of value.” She lifted the box. “I could replace those awful kitchen dishes at a garage sale, but nobody else has a lock of Tyler’s hair.”
Mike shook his head. He looked like Dogg worrying a bone. “Lady, you are incredible. Let’s get you back to the house before you run out of steam.”
“More importantly, let’s get back before this baby wakes up. She has to be changed and fed again soon, and it would be a lot easier at your house than on the road in Carrie’s SUV.”
“Now that’s being practical.” Mike stood up and hefted the infant seat with one hand. He held out the other one to Lori. “Let’s go.”
His outstretched hand with its long fingers looked like a lifeline. She took it and let him help her off the floor. His hand was incredibly warm and the strength that flowed from him engulfed her. This would be so easy. Just to let somebody else take over, do the hard stuff for a while. Especially if that someone was Mike.
No, she still had to be strong. To keep it together, and let God do the managing for her, not some other human being. Or did she? What if Mike is just managing things for God? It was a new thought. Maybe Mikayla Hope wasn’t the only miracle here after all.
Maybe God had sent her a trio of guardian angels. Gloria seemed perfectly happy when they left her to haul games out of the basement and play with Tyler while they were gone. That was a gift in itself.
Lori stifled a giggle. It was too much. Thinking about Mike this way, sprouting a halo and wings, was hard enough. But the image that came to mind of a matching set of equipment on Dogg did the trick.
Then Mike cocked his head in puzzlement, much like his canine buddy probably did. That brought on the laughter in earnest. “Yes, let’s get going. I think I’m getting a little goofy.”
A little goofy? Mike didn’t say a word, but the look he exchanged with Carrie said it all for him. He obviously thought she’d gone around the bend. Lori let go of his hand and followed him out of the trailer.
This time she was sure they turned off the light and locked the door. If there was any more tampering with the place after this, she would know.
Chapter Seven
Mike stood in his mom’s guest room, kicking himself again. Where was this baby going to sleep? How could neither he nor Gloria anticipate that they needed a crib or a bassinet? Him, he could understand. Mikayla was the first baby he’d ever been this close to. It was natural that he wouldn’t know what they’d need. But why hadn’t his mom thought of this?
Lori picked up on it immediately. “Now what’s the matter?”
He shrugged. “No crib. I don’t know what I thought you were going to do with the baby. Put her in your pouch like a kangaroo, I guess. She can’t sleep in that thing all night.” He motioned toward the infant seat Mikayla still occupied. She’d fallen asleep on the ride home from the trailer, and slept peacefully. At least she was unaware of the lack of preparation that had been made for her.
“She could if she needed to.” Lori looked around the room. “What do you think I was going to do with her back there? Did you see a crib?”
“Come to think of it, no. What were you going to do with her?”
“The same thing I did with Tyler. Watch.” Lori set the seat down on the carpet and walked over to the antique dresser with all the little porcelain whatnots on it. How his mom ever dusted all this stuff, and why she would want to, was beyond him. It was her guest room, though, so if she wanted to put all this froufrou in it, that was no skin off his nose.
Lori opened the lowest drawer and set it on the floor. She took out the sewing patterns and other contents then removed the scented drawer liner paper. At least that was what the stuff printed with violets seemed to be. Mike didn’t know until now they made such a product, much less that anybody bought it. However now that he was aware that somebody made it, there was no surprise in knowing his mother used it.
He watched as Lori folded one of Mikayla’s blankets into a rectangle that fit the drawer. “See? Instant crib. Folks have been doing it this way for generations. In fact, as old as this dresser is, it was probably used this way before.”
“I don’t know about that. Martin babies have probably had hand-carved cradles for generations.” As soon as Mike said that, he wondered. If that was the case, where was that cradle? If Gloria had been in possession of such an item, surely she would have hauled it out of one of the numerous attic nooks of the old house last night when he mentioned a baby. He made a note to ask her about it once their guests were settled.
“Well, maybe Martin babies have been using high-class furniture, but Harper babies definitely use dresser drawers for
a couple of months. Then when they get too big for the drawer, we go looking for a secondhand crib.” Lori said it without any sign of pain or regret.
“It’s really very practical that way.” She smoothed the blanket, and settled the drawer next to the bed. “I mean, bassinets and cradles are pretty useless pieces of furniture unless you have a huge house. And we’ve never had a house, let alone a huge one to store anything in.”
He must have shown the pang of guilt he felt, because Lori crossed the distance between them quickly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. That’s just the way life is. I mean, we’re still better off than the Birthday Boy, aren’t we?”
“Huh?” Okay, so it wasn’t eloquent. He was too short on sleep to be anything but dense.
“Jesus, silly. He didn’t have a house to be born into. The best His folks could do was a stable and a feeding trough in a strange city. And things turned out okay after that. I figure in comparison, we’re doing great.”
Then why was her lip trembling? Mike followed his instincts and put his arm around her. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”
She leaned against him and he was overpowered by the scent of her. It was warm and clean and comforting all at the same time and he fought the urge to bury his face in her hair, lift her off her feet and envelop her.
Instead, he just leaned his forehead down to touch the top of her head. She felt so slight in his arms, and her shoulders trembled for a moment. “I know. I know. But sometimes it’s just so hard.”
“Being both mommy and daddy to Tyler, and now the baby, too?”
“Mostly that, I guess. The hardest part is knowing I don’t have to be both all the time. That God really is in charge and looking out for all of us every minute of every day. That, Mike, is the hardest part. I feel better when I’m holding the reins.”
“Well, sure. Don’t we all.” His arm tightened around her instinctively.
“Yes, but see, it doesn’t have to be that way. That’s the beauty of really knowing Jesus. You can let go of the worries and the wondering. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. If you’re good enough at it, I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.”
“But you don’t know for certain?” Mike used his finger to tip her heart-shaped face up to him. She felt so wonderful. Could he kiss away the pain that he saw there? No, this wasn’t the time. He let go of her face.
Her eyes glowed with unshed tears. “No. Not for certain. Because I’m never good enough.”
“Lady, if you’re not good enough, then I definitely don’t want to know that God you talk about so much. Because if somebody like you doesn’t measure up, nobody will.”
Lori’s head sank, and her eyes closed. “Then I must not be good enough even at explaining all this, because that isn’t what I meant. I think I’m just too tired to have this conversation, okay?”
He had to get out of here. If he didn’t, soon he was going to be picking her up and tucking her into the frilly white sheets on Gloria’s guest bed. The urge to take care of this young woman was way beyond his control. “Fine.” He looked around the room. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Just the things out of the bags Carrie brought back. And Tyler, of course, if your mom will let go of him.”
“I can probably persuade her. They must have read every old picture book in the house by now.”
“Then send him back here, and I’ll see you in the morning. I still think we should be setting up housekeeping next door instead of here.” How could anybody look that determined and that girlish at the same time?
“No way. Not until you’re a few days farther from birthing that baby. And we have a phone installed in that place. And I make sure all the doors and windows lock, that there’s food in the fridge…”
“Okay, I get your drift. Go get Tyler before you upset your halo.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Lori blushed; he was sure of it. It was appealing and attractive. “Nothing. Nothing that makes sense, anyway. Just let me get everybody settled and get some sleep. I promise I’ll make more sense in the morning.”
That was almost a shame. This slightly goofy, vulnerable side to Lori was very attractive. Once she had her wits about her in a day or two, it was likely to disappear. And Mike knew he’d miss it when it was gone.
This bed was almost too comfortable. Lori knew she ought to get up. It was daylight and both children were still asleep in her room. Both children. That thought still took some getting used to.
Tyler slept in a sleeping bag on the plush carpet. He had one arm flung out in classic little-boy fashion and the rest of him wound up in the sleeping bag. Mikayla looked like an angel baby in her makeshift crib. And soon she would be big enough that she’d sound like one, but not yet. All that sighing and squeaking kept Lori awake a good deal of the night.
Now it was morning and she should take advantage of both of them sleeping to grab a shower if she could. Heaven knew when she’d get this opportunity again.
The hot shower was bliss. Lori decided it was the first miracle of the day. Why not hot water as a miracle? Definitely the source of the water, being in the Martins’ house and taken care of in this luxury, was a miracle.
Mikayla didn’t wake up while Lori dried off and got dressed. That had to count as at least half a miracle. Sweats and leggings still made up most of Lori’s wardrobe that fit. Her prepregnancy jeans looked impossibly slender. She sighed and folded them back up, sliding them into the bottom of a bag. So every miracle didn’t happen on her timetable. The thought actually made her smile.
Now what? Breakfast and some brainstorming about how to get a phone installed next door on her limited credit. She agreed with all of Mike’s conditions for her to move in there. They needed working utilities, a phone and a full refrigerator. She needed to retrieve her car from out at the trailer, and look over things one last time to see if she’d missed anything someone had stolen or tried to find. It was a mystery to her what anybody wanted out there, but obviously somebody knew something she didn’t.
She left the door to her room open and went to the kitchen. It was a good thing she’d showered and done her hair, because Mike was already at the table drinking a cup of coffee. And he was the kind of person who woke up clear-headed and good-looking.
Of course he went to bed good-looking, Lori thought, making it an easier process. How had she been this close to him for several days without noticing how handsome he was? Maybe because she was busy seeing the good heart inside him. That good heart was packaged in nice wrapping, she had to admit. Mike looked freshly showered, too; dark hair slicked back and face shaved to show off that cute cleft in his chin.
“Good morning.” Lori should have been expecting him to speak. But why did it make her jump?
“Hey. Happy Boxing Day.”
“Sure. Want to go a few rounds?”
Lori giggled. “Not that kind of boxing, silly. Don’t you have any class? It’s a British thing. The day after Christmas you go visit the relatives and bring goodies…”
“And boxes?”
“One would assume. It’s one of the many strange holidays I know about.”
“Is there a girl manual you people are issued that gives you instructions about those things? I swear my mother knows all that stuff, too.”
“No manual. But I used to love parties when I was a kid, could never get enough of them. So I found every excuse I could to make one.”
“Good. We need more parties around here.”
“Oh?” Lori found a coffee cup set out next to the pot, and poured herself a cup. Maybe she should have waited to be served, but this morning she needed the real stuff. “I would have thought your mom would be a party expert.”
“She is, but hers tend to be on the gala side. I like backyard barbecues and Monopoly marathons better.”
Lori nodded. “Sounds like more my speed. Did we keep you up any last night?”
“Not a bit. My apartment is too far f
rom where you are to hear much. How about you? Is my namesake the model baby?”
Lori looked around, wondering how to ask about breakfast. “She is, to tell the truth. I mean, she didn’t sleep through the whole night, but people who are two days old seldom do. She got up twice, ate and went back to sleep.”
“Good.” Mike got up from the kitchen table. “I’m forgetting my manners. Mom will shoot me when she gets up. Can I get you some breakfast? I don’t eat much myself in the morning, just toast or cereal or something. You’re probably starved.”
“I could eat,” Lori admitted. “But I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Cereal would be fine.”
He led her to a walk-in pantry. Lori kept herself from going goggle-eyed. It was the size of her kitchen. There were appliances she couldn’t identify, and enough boxes and cans to stock a small grocery. “Wow. Your mom really likes to cook.”
Mike laughed. “That she does. Now, when she has those parties, the gala ones, somebody else caters. But for us, cooking is her relaxation.”
“Sounds like you reap the benefits of her relaxing.”
“We work things out. I do most of the outside stuff around the place, the yard anyway. We lease out the farm land mostly, when she doesn’t run her goofy goats.”
Lori picked a box of cereal off one of the shelves. “She sounds like a woman of many talents.”
“I guess. Between you and me, the goats are more of a pain than an asset. But they are as friendly as dogs around her. I’m surprised she didn’t have Tyler out seeing them yesterday.”
“I think she did. Now I understand his comments about feeding the funny-looking dogs while we were gone.” Lori giggled. “I guess they were funny looking, for dogs.”
Mike had a nice smile. She could get used to seeing him this cheerful. “They bark funny, too. The real dog just goes nuts trying to figure them out. Now let’s get you fed before you starve.”
Lori waved him off. “I’m okay, really.”