Only in Oklahoma (At the Altar Book 6)

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Only in Oklahoma (At the Altar Book 6) Page 10

by Kirsten Osbourne


  "Hope you're using birth control then."

  Michaela nodded. "We are. I just—I feel bad for telling him 'no' but I really want a little time to just be alone. To establish my career. I just graduated."

  "Yeah, I understand. How does he feel about birth control then?"

  Michaela shrugged. "He knows he's not touching me without it, so he's using it, but he's not happy. He won't let me talk to him about it, though. He wants to wait two weeks and see if either of us change our mind."

  "That doesn't sound like him. He always counsels couples to talk about whatever bothers them."

  "He told me if he was counseling a couple who had been married for less than a week, he'd counsel them to wait and discuss it after a little while, because things have a way of working themselves out." Michaela shook her head. "I can't see how this would, though."

  Samara made a face as she pulled into the Mexican restaurant. "Well, he's a smart man, and a good one. Give him the time he wants and then talk about it. I'm sure he has his reasons."

  "I'm sure he does. I just wish I knew what to do."

  "So is he mad at you about it? What happened?"

  Michaela opened her mouth to tell her friend everything, but then she closed it. It wouldn't be honoring to her husband to talk about the fight they'd had. She wouldn't do that to him. Especially not to a member of his congregation. "We just don't agree."

  Samara studied her for a minute before nodding. "You will never believe how well my girls are reading. I can't wait for you to meet them. They're pretty special." She went on to talk about Avy and Abby, obviously not needing a response.

  Michaela was glad her friend dropped the subject. It was definitely the right thing to do. "Our wedding was fun. Jon had me meet him at the door to the bridal room and we prayed together before we ever met. And you know Lachele. She wouldn't even let us get a look at each other or talk other than the prayer."

  Samara laughed. "That sounds like both of them. Were you happy or disappointed when you found out Pastor Jon was a pastor?"

  "It was mixed. I hate the idea of having to live in a fishbowl like pastors and their wives do, but I was so happy to have found a godly man. He's a really good guy." Michaela grinned as she thought about the threats her dad had made, and how Jon had calmly put up with them. "He took me to Plymouth, Massachusetts, for our honeymoon. I'd been, but it was nice seeing it with him. And we got some of the best saltwater taffy in the world."

  "Sounds good to me. Wait—wasn't there just a storm in Massachusetts?"

  Michaela nodded. "Our hotel was on the beach and had to be evacuated. We spent the night in the apartment of one of my friends who lives there in Plymouth. Very frustrating."

  "Oh, I'll bet he was still calm and peaceful. I don't think anyone has ever seen Pastor Jon raise his voice or lose his temper. He's amazing."

  Michaela grinned, saying nothing. She'd seen both, and it made her feel like she had a real relationship with the man if he was letting her see a side of him other people didn't get to see. "He's a calm man, isn't he?"

  Samara's eyes grew wide. "You've seen him lose his temper! Over the hotel or the baby thing?"

  Michaela didn't respond to her friend's question. "What's good here? I know you said you want enchiladas, but I think I'm hungry for fajitas. Are they decent?"

  Samara sighed. "You're not going to tell me any of the good stuff. Darn you, Michaela! What's the good of having a friend who is married to the pastor if she won't tell me the good stuff?"

  Michaela just continued to look at her menu.

  "Fine, I'll tell you. The fajitas are good." Samara put her menu down. "Don't even know why I'm looking. I want the chicken enchiladas with the sour cream sauce. They're the best thing on the menu."

  "You'll have to give me a bite," Michaela said, taking a sip of her water.

  "You know I love you, right?" Samara asked.

  "Right."

  "Good. Then you won't take it the wrong way when I say I want to scream right now."

  "Why is it such a bad thing that I won't tell bad stories about my husband?" Michaela asked. "I can't talk bad about him and feel like I'm doing the right thing as a Christian wife."

  "It's not wrong. I've just never even seen him angry. One time Henry told me he was annoyed when he found out the girls' Sunday School teacher had been rude to a boy in their class. That's the only time ever. He's practically perfect."

  Michaela nodded. "He's a good man, and I'm happy that I'm married to him." The stories she had to tell would never be told. Why would she risk people changing their opinion of Jon?

  "So the babies are due in three weeks," Samara said. "I don't know yet what I'm doing with the twins."

  "Oh! That reminds me. I start a job with Ronda somebody or other from church tomorrow. I'm going to be her assistant director at a daycare."

  "Oh, yeah. I know her. She's sweet."

  "You think?" Michaela asked.

  "Oh, definitely. And she's so good with the kids. They all adore her."

  "That's good to hear. I'm looking forward to the job. It sounds perfect for me. I'll be working from six in the morning until two in the afternoon."

  Samara laughed. "That's perfect for you? You're going to want to kill someone after two mornings of getting up stupid early."

  Michaela grinned. "You know me so well. Do you know that Jon does not yet realize that I'm not a morning person? How long do you think I can hide it?"

  "Oh, until tomorrow morning, probably. Has he ever seen you when you had to get up early?"

  "Only on Sunday, and that was more like six. I'll have to get up before five for this job."

  Samara held her stomach as she laughed. "Oh, that would to be fun to watch. I hope you have a whole pot of coffee before you leave, and there'd better be a coffee shop on the way."

  Michaela groaned, resting her head on the table. "I know. I'm so busted. He's going to realize that I'm a mess in less than twenty-four hours. Oh, well. At least he can't fall out of love, because he isn't there yet."

  "What makes you say that?" Samara asked.

  "I told him I was falling for him this morning, and he didn't respond. If he had feelings, he'd have said something."

  "Probably. Maybe. Pastor Jon has had so many women chasing him in the past couple of years, he may not say anything. He's really been through a lot from what I hear."

  "Been through a lot? Because women were interested in him?"

  "Maybe that's the wrong way of putting it, but I know a lot of women from the area have just shown up at his house. A bunch changed churches. It's been crazy how many of them have pretty much said they'd do anything to be married to him. It's pretty sad and funny all at the same time."

  Michaela frowned. "I hope word gets around that we're married soon then. I wouldn't want to have to stab anyone in the eye with a fork."

  "Jealous? You? Weren't you the one who went out with the same guy for six months, and never even kissed him, and when you saw him kissing some skank on campus you didn't even care?"

  "Well, yeah, but the difference is, I have kissed Jon. Once or twice."

  Samara laughed. "I'm sure you have. Is he a good kisser?"

  "A true lady never kisses and tells," Michaela said, raising her nose in the air for a moment. "But since I'm not a lady, I have to say, he's incredible!"

  "Oh yeah? Bet Henry's better..."

  "Since neither of us will ever kiss the other's husband, I guess we'll never find out, huh?"

  Samara grinned. "Lachele would kiss them both. We wouldn't even have to pay her."

  Michaela laughed. "She would. She's nutty like that. I need to call her soon."

  "Why? Are you going to tell her about your honeymoon?"

  Michaela made a face at her friend. "Maybe, but she'll be sworn to secrecy."

  "You're mean!" Samara leaned forward. "Just tell me this. Does he snuggle you close after? That's the best part!"

  "The best? Really? Henry must not be doing the rest of it right
, then." Michaela winked at Samara, and they both laughed. "Let's stop talking about my honeymoon. Tell me what you still need for the baby. Now that I'm here, I can get you a gift."

  "Everything!" Samara said, shaking her head. "I haven't even had a shower!"

  "Are you kidding me? Why not?"

  Samara shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I haven't been here long enough to be on the radar and no one has thought of it? I keep busy with my family, so I haven't made any super close friends."

  "This sounds like a job for your friend Michaela! I'll do it. Can I host it in your house, though?"

  "You don't know enough people to invite to a baby shower. You've got to be kidding!"

  "Oh, I'll make this happen if it kills me." Michaela pulled out her pen and found another piece of scrap paper. "Now, where are you registered?"

  They spent the rest of lunch talking about Samara's baby shower. "Do you need me to come over and clean for it? You're awfully round to be doing heavy stuff."

  "I can handle it. Mostly. Well, I need someone to mop my floors. Can you mop?"

  "Of course, I can," Michaela said. "I can do it today or come over after work one day. We'll plan the shower for a week from Saturday, because then I can just give out invitations at church on Sunday. No, wait. That's when my wedding shower is going to be." She frowned. "I know! I'll call Nancy, and we'll turn it into a joint wedding/baby shower! Then I won't have to be the center of attention, and neither will you!"

  "I like how you think! And then it doesn't have to be at my house. But could you still mop for me, because my floors are gross, and Henry is the worst mopper on the planet. I swear he doesn't even sweep first!"

  Michaela nodded. "I'll go to your house and sweep and mop right after lunch." She frowned. "You don't happen to have a crock pot I could borrow do you?"

  "I have two! I got two as wedding gifts, and I thought there'd be times I'd use two, but I haven't, so one is all yours."

  "Yay! I'll take it. Thank you!"

  "You can have it as payment for my floors," Samara said with a grin.

  Michaela reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. "I'm so glad you're here. It's going to be fun to hang out with you again."

  "Just try to remember me when you're the center of the social whirl at the church. You might not think of your friend, SamiSunflower."

  "Are you kidding me? If I neglect you, Lachele will fly out here and knock me upside the head. Do you know the woman recruited me? I was never planning to go to Matchrimony. She came up to me after church one day and insisted she'd found the man of my dreams, and I'd better get my butt up there, before she gave him to someone else."

  Samara laughed. "I do love that crazy woman!"

  "It's hard not to. I tried, but it just didn't work. My mom is so happy that she found me a man, she just can't contain herself."

  "What about your dad?"

  Michaela grinned. "He threatened to castrate him if he didn't treat me right."

  Samara laughed. "I love him, too."

  "He's a good daddy." Michaela pulled out her phone. "My sister couldn't make the wedding, but I have the latest pictures of my niece and nephew."

  "Oh, do I have to see them? Two uglier kids have never existed. Why did Hannah marry Mark anyway? They make ugly kids together!"

  "That's what Mom says too. Oh, well. As long as they grow up to be smart, productive members of society, does ugliness matter?"

  Samara made a face as she looked at the picture Michaela handed her. "Well, as long as they don't try to procreate, I think all will be good."

  Chapter Nine

  Michaela swept and mopped Samara's floors and borrowed her crock pot before heading home. She wouldn't be able to cook in it that night, but the rest of the week while she was working was what really mattered.

  She fixed dinner and straightened the apartment, before taking the laundry to the laundry mat. She hadn't packed enough clothes to last her for long, and she didn't know how long it would take Haley to get her things to her.

  She thought about waiting there for the laundry to wash, but she needed to finish dinner, so she hurried back upstairs, and found Jon waiting for her.

  "Where were you?" he asked. "I was about to get worried."

  She grinned, hurrying to him and kissing him. "I was starting a load of laundry. I have a job starting tomorrow."

  "Are you kidding? That was fast!" He hadn't even determined if he wanted her to work yet, and already she had a job. It seemed strange to him. "What will you do?"

  "I have the job that Nancy mentioned at lunch yesterday. I'll be the assistant director of a Christian daycare and preschool. We decided to do a two month trial period to see if I liked it, and she liked having me do it."

  "What are the hours?"

  She sighed. "That's the bad part of it. I have to be there at six in the morning. I'm not sure how we're going to swing that with only one car."

  He frowned. "We can look for a good used car this weekend. For now, I'll call Steve and have him pick me up. If I give him a few bucks for gas, he'll be fine with it."

  "Do you mind?" she asked, biting her lip. She hated to put him out that way.

  He shook his head. "Not at all. It'll just take a bit of finagling this week, and we'll have a car for you next week. How did lunch with Samara go?"

  Her face lit up at the mention of her friend's name. "Oh, it was so much fun! She asked some questions that I wasn't comfortable answering, but she backed off after a while."

  "Like what?"

  "She asked about the storm, and I told her we were evacuated, and she wanted to know if it annoyed you. It seems like everyone thinks you're perfect, and they want me to tell them your faults. I just keep saying I haven't seen any yet."

  He laughed. "Yeah, everyone has been trying to get me to lose my temper since I got here. I really am even tempered most of the time. You're the only person who has seen me really angry in years." He frowned. "I'm sorry about that."

  "I'm glad to know you're human. No need to be sorry."

  She went into the kitchen and pulled dinner from the oven. "I hope you're hungry, because I made a bunch. There should be enough left for us each to take leftovers for lunch tomorrow as well."

  He grinned. "And people say I'm perfect. Do you tell them I have a long way to go to be as good as my wife?"

  Michaela shook her head. "If only that was true. Wait 'til tomorrow morning. You'll see the real me."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

  She bit her lip, wondering if it was best to just tell him straight out. "I'm not exactly a morning person."

  He shrugged. "Neither am I. So?"

  "No, I hate mornings. They make me angry. I tend to throw things and be a bit less than kind in the mornings."

  He grinned at her. "You do not."

  She sighed. "I do. I had a reputation at my college for throwing pillows at my roommates. And alarm clocks at walls. And—well, you get the picture. Everyone knew to leave me alone until after seven."

  "You did fine on Sunday."

  She nodded. "A day or two I can handle. Five days in a row of being up before five in the morning? You're going to see some very bad behavior. I'll do my best, but I make no promises."

  "I'm not even sure what to say to that confession."

  "Tell me you won't leave me after a week of marriage when I'm mean to you in the morning," she said with a grin. She was only half joking.

  "I won't leave you." He frowned. "Are you still going to cook breakfast for me? Having bacon and eggs the last two mornings has been a real treat."

  "Do you really want to get up before six to eat them?"

  He shrugged. "I'm not a big fan of mornings, but they don't make me homicidal or anything."

  She frowned. "Everyone keeps telling me you're perfect. That may be the proof they need right there. Dang it." She really wasn't good enough for him. She didn't want a baby right away. She didn't think she should obey everything he said—especially not if he told h
er to do something stupid. Maybe Lachele had made a mistake.

  "I'm not perfect. Do you not remember me yelling at you for disagreeing with me?"

  "I hold that memory close to my heart. Maybe I should do something else to make you mad so you'll yell again, and I can quit worrying about not being good enough for you."

  "Do you remember what was in my refrigerator when you met me?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

  She nodded. "A bottle of ketchup and three cans of Coke. I wrote it down so I'd never forget."

  He laughed. "You're not allowed to tell anyone."

  "I would never tell the world about your imperfections. How could I? No one would believe me anyway."

  He shook his head at her. "Is it time to eat yet?" he asked, desperately wanting her to forget about his supposed perfection.

  "It is. Sit down and I'll serve you," she told him. "And after supper, I'd love it if you took your perfect butt down to the laundry mat and switched the loads over for me while I do dishes."

  He sighed. "I'm a man. Perfect men don't do women's chores do they?"

  "They do if they don't want their wives to be too tired for their wifely duties," she said with a wink.

  "I have this strange desire to go switch the laundry from the washers to the dryers. May I do it now, dear wife? Or should I wait 'til after supper."

  She laughed. "Probably not ready yet. After supper is perfect."

  While they ate dinner, she told him about lunch with Samara. "No one has given her a baby shower yet, so I told her I'd do that. Do you mind?"

  He shook his head. "Not at all. When?"

  "I thought I could share my wedding shower with her. I'll talk to Nancy about it, of course, but I'd think the same people who want to go to my wedding shower would want to go to her baby shower."

  "Sounds good to me. I don't have to go, do I?"

  She sighed. "No, you don't have to go. You and Henry should take the girls to the park or something while we're both gone."

  "Kid watching duty?" he asked. "Oh, the horrors!"

  "Really? You're the one who wants kids right away. Who do you think is going to watch them while I'm at women's only parties? It won't be me!"

 

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