The Baby Tree (Christian Romance)

by Beverly Farr

  Michael brushed the dust off the box and read the label. “A good brand,” he said, then opened the box and flipped through the instruction booklet. “Do you have any tools?”

  “A hammer and a few screwdrivers.”

  “What about a ladder?”

  She pointed

  “If we need anything else, we’ll get it from my house.” He smiled with confidence. “We'll have your door fixed in no time.”

  “Great. I'll get out of your way and let you boys have your fun.”

  As she walked back to the house, she heard Brent say, “You didn't tell me how cute she was.”

  #

  They were attaching the rail strap to the header bracket. Brent placed the power head on the top of the ladder so the rail was parallel to the floor. “Tell me about Olivia,” he said.

  Hands off, Michael thought, but didn't say it. He didn't have the right to keep Brent away if he were interested in her. “I thought you were seeing Cheryl in accounting.”

  “We’ve gone out a few times,” Brent said. “But it's not serious. She's got two kids. She's still messed up over her ex.”

  That was the problem with divorces. No one ever got a completely clean break. “Tough.”

  “Yeah.” Michael could tell that Brent didn't want to talk about it. Brent repeated, “So tell me about Olivia.”

  “She's a graphic designer, grew up in Pennsylvania. She has two cats.”

  “Is she dating anyone?”

  “How should I know?” He hadn’t seen anyone lately, but he tried not to spy on her. Michael tightened a flange nut on the rail strap.

  “I don't want to move in on your territory.”

  Michael picked up the instruction booklet that had fallen to the floor. “Just because she lives next door, it doesn't mean she's in my territory. We're friends.”

  “Friends who want to be more, or just friends?”

  “Look,” Michael said flatly. “If you're interested, ask her out and see what happens. The worst she can do is say ‘Date a geek like you? You've got to be kidding.’”

  Brent laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Michael looked at the printed instructions for the opener and changed the subject. “Where are the mounting straps?”

  #

  Olivia walked out to the garage and surveyed their work. “Wow, you’ve made a lot of progress.” It looked as if they were almost finished. She added, “I’ve made some lunch. Do you want to come in and take a break for a minute or have me bring it out here?”

  Brent and Michael looked at each other, then Michael said, “Take a break.”

  They followed her back to her house. Brent’s eyes widened when he saw her old fashioned kitchen decor, but he didn’t comment. He took a big bite of a roast beef sandwich and said, “This is great.”

  Michael petted Crick who greeted him like a long-lost friend. He downed a glass of lemonade. They all sat at her kitchen table for a few minutes, relaxing. Michael noticed the laptop on her kitchen counter. He motioned towards the paused image on her computer screen. “What’s that?”

  She had to look. She often listened to television shows while she did dishes. “Oh. It’s Super.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “It’s another one of those reality talent contests,” Brent volunteered.

  “I’ve never seen it. Is it any good?”

  “Standard routine,” Olivia said. “But this girl - I don’t know her name - is pretty good.”

  Brent said, “Yeah, Muriel Something. I’ve seen her. She’s small but she’s got this huge voice. It’s amazing.” He turned to Michael. “You should hear her.”

  Olivia stood. “Do you want me to hit play?”

  Michael said, “No. I’d rather get back to work.” He took a sandwich and carried it outside to the garage.

  Brent made a face as if to say, “What’s wrong with him?” He thanked her again for the sandwich and followed after his friend.

  Olivia glanced back at the computer screen, wondering what had bothered Michael. The singer was a pretty young woman with bleached blonde hair, too much make-up, a leopard print cat suit and blood red fake nails. Her costume was tacky, but not as sleazy as some of the other contestants’ attire. But then, she remembered, Michael was a minister’s son. Maybe he thought the entire show was a waste of time.

  He was probably right.

  Too bad she hadn’t been listening to Jane Austen or Charles Dickens. At least she would have appeared more intelligent.

  An hour later, they were finished. Olivia clicked the remote control and watched the garage door open smoothly. “How wonderful. It no longer sounds like a dying walrus.”

  “Thanks to a little oil,” Brent said. “If you oil the rollers once a month, even once every three months, you shouldn't have any problems.”

  Spoken like a true engineer. She smiled. “I think you are both very clever. Thank you.”

  “It was fun,” Michael said. Now that the project was finished, he seemed to be in a better mood.

  “Can I use your bathroom to wash up?” Brent asked.

  “Sure.” Olivia pointed to her back door. “First door on the right. Watch out for the cats. I don't want them to escape.”

  “Have they ever gotten out?” Michael asked.

  “Once. Watson cowered in the bushes, but Crick headed straight for the trees. It took fresh salmon to lure him back down.”

  “Smart cat.”

  Olivia glanced up at him. It was nice to stand next to him, enjoying his company. She really did like him. She hugged herself, thinking she should have worn something a little heavier than a sweater.

  He asked gently, “How’s the job hunt?”

  “A few interviews. Your headhunter has helped, but there’s nothing solid yet.”

  “Well, good luck. I hope you find something soon.”

  “So do I.” She sighed. She was beginning to think that she’d have to look outside the DFW area. She didn’t want to sell her house and move.

  She’d miss Michael.

  Once Brent was safely inside the house and out of earshot, Michael said, “He asked about you.”

  Olivia raised one eyebrow. “Did you tell him what a good kisser I am?”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. “Sorry. That was a long time ago.”

  “Four months.”

  Did he keep track?

  Michael looked uncomfortable. “I told him we were just friends.”

  “Good. I mean, No, you’re right. We are just friends.”

  He nodded. “He’s probably going to ask you out.”

  Olivia looked at Michael closely, trying to gage his reaction. But she couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those cool blue eyes. “Sure,” she said finally. “Why not? He seems like a nice guy.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Olivia and Brent went to a Country Western dance club down in Deep Ellum, but it was too crowded, so they left after two songs. They talked about going somewhere else, but ended up eating fajitas at a Mexican restaurant on Greenville Avenue. Brent drank two margaritas and spent the rest of the evening talking about a girl named Cheryl.

  “I have no idea why she'd call you up at two a.m. to talk, and then hang up,” Olivia said sympathetically.

  “But it's not rational,” Brent insisted.

  Olivia hadn't been very rational herself, lately. That evening she'd sprayed half a bottle of hair spray on her hair to hold a cascade of curls in place. She'd spent more than an hour applying her make-up, and she'd worn her shortest skirt with her highest heels. Now, if she'd done all this to make a good impression on Brent, it would still be foolish, but somewhat understandable. But no, she'd undergone all this torture to impress the man next door, who might, just might, peek through his window to see her as she left on her date.

  She slid her foot out of one of her pumps and rubbed the back of her heel. Just as she suspected, a blister.

  Not
smart.

  Maybe it would be best if she did get a job somewhere else and had to move.

  Start over again.

  Brent lifted his salted glass. “Are you sure you don't want one of these?”

  “Positive.” She didn’t drink alcohol, but she didn’t want to make an issue of it.

  She smiled at Brent. How foolish they both were. He was half in love with Cheryl and she was half in love with Michael, yet here they were, pretending to have a good time. Two lonely people going through the motions.

  Olivia sighed. It was much easier to watch movies with her cats. While Brent talked, she mentally debated which movie she should watch tonight when she got home. Darcy was always a good choice.

  Two hours later, they sat in Brent’s car in her driveway, talking. Eventually he said awkwardly, “Well, I guess I'd better get home.”

  They walked to her back door.

  “I had a nice time,” Olivia said politely. “Thank you.”

  Brent reached out to shake her hand, but she reached up and gave him a brief hug instead.

  “I hope Cheryl comes around,” she said.

  “Thanks for listening.”

  She stood at the door and watched Brent drive away. Lord, he’s a nice man. Please help him to be happy. She came back into the house, locked her door, and slipped out of her painful shoes. And please help me not to go on any more dud dates.

  Someone knocked on her door.

  She looked through the blinds. Michael? This late at night?

  She unlocked the door. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. He reached forward, caught her shoulders and kissed her -- brief and hard.

  Olivia was too startled to respond.

  He pulled back and watched her intently.

  She gasped. “What was that?”

  “I like you,” he said, and kissed her again. A little longer, a little softer this time.

  Things were definitely looking up. Olivia felt deliciously out of breath. “I like you, too,” she managed finally.

  “I don’t want you to go out with Brent.”

  Another kiss.

  She could get used to his style of punctuation. “Fine with me.”

  She smiled and he seemed to relax a little. He said seriously, “I want to give our relationship a chance. To see if it could become something more.”

  For a man who had been riding the emotional brakes for months, he seemed to be going full speed ahead now.

  Michael waited for her response. “Well?” he prompted.

  Instead of speaking, Olivia reached up and kissed him. She slid one hand up along the back of his neck to bring his head down closer to hers.

  Eventually she sank back down on her heels and rested her head against his solid chest.

  His hand smoothed her hair. “Is that a yes?”

  She gave a little shaky laugh. “What do you think?”

  “I think you like me, too.”

  “I do.”

  She felt him let his breath out in a shuddering sigh. “I’m glad.”

  They were both silent for a few seconds, then he stepped back and she reluctantly let go of him.

  He said in a bemused tone, “You curled your hair. I’ve never seen your hair curled.” He reached out to pull one curl.

  “And what do you think of the dress?”

  He smiled and gave her a leisurely once over. He raised one eyebrow. “Nice.”

  She blushed. “Too short?”

  “You’ve got the legs for it.”

  “You noticed.”

  “I’ve been noticing your legs for a long time now.”

  Now that he was finally talking, she liked what he was saying, but she felt a little self-conscious. “Do you want to come in and sit down?”

  “Can’t. The kids are all asleep next door.” His words were practical, but his eyes gleamed with adoration. “Any minute now, one of them is going to start screaming.”

  Dating a man with five toddlers was going to be a new experience. “So what now?”

  “I’d like to get to know everything about you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can make plans.”

  “Good night.” Olivia watched him walk back to his house, then closed her door and locked it. She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Thank you, Lord.

  #

  Two nights later, Olivia came over to Michael’s house for dinner. After the kids were fed and put to bed, they sat down to watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice. Michael looked at the DVD box. “Is this your favorite version?”

  “No, but at only two hours, it’s the one of the shortest. I want to get you acclimatized gradually.”

  “Thanks. I’m not ready for the ten hour version.”

  “I don’t think there is a ten hour version.”

  “It just feels like ten hours.”

  Olivia playfully smacked him on the chest with the DVD box. “Careful.”

  In a few minutes, they were comfortable on the couch, his arm around her shoulders, an afghan she’d brought draped over their laps. Olivia tried to pay attention to the movie, but she found herself observing Michael’s reactions more than the television screen. Part of her was amazed that he was willing to watch it with her. John, although he was a wonderful man, never had the patience for Jane Austen. He preferred adventure movies with spies and things getting blown up. Whenever he did agree to watch one of her period dramas, he fell asleep. It had been one of their jokes.

  As she spent more time with Michael, she was often reminded of John. It was inevitable -- the comparisons between the man she’d loved before and the man she loved now. Some of it was familiar -- the feeling of happiness that seemed to flood her heart, the feeling of belonging. Intellectually, she found it fascinating that she could love two men who had such different personalities, but she wasn’t going to over-analyze it. Instead she was going to be grateful that God had answered her prayers and given her a second chance. She felt that John, if he were aware of her life now, would be happy for her, too.

  As they watched the movie, Michael asked a few questions and laughed at the appropriate places. When it was over, he said he liked it.

  “What was your favorite part?”

  “Mr. Collins.”

  “Yes, he’s great. Weird, a little creepy, and yet still sympathetic.”

  Michael wound a strand of her long hair around his finger. “Have you ever dated a guy like that?”

  “No, thank goodness. Although I’ve had my share of date disasters. What about you?”

  “None. You and Mary Ellen are the only women I’ve ever dated.”

  She was stunned. “You married your high school sweetheart?”

  “Guilty. So I don’t have any date disasters, just a marriage disaster.”

  She’d known they were going to have to discuss Mary Ellen some time, just as there were things in her life that they’d have to discuss as well, if their relationship became more serious. But was this the time? At least his children were all asleep. “You want to talk about it?” she asked quietly.

  “I guess so,” he said. “What do you want to know?”

  Start simple. There was no need to get to all the painful parts right away. “How’d you meet?”

  “Her family moved into town when we were in middle school and they attended our church.”

  Church. That was something else she and Michael were going to have to discuss. She could tell he was Christian, but church attendance was also important to her. But rather than ask questions, she let him talk.

  “We started dating in high school. I was a year older, so I went off to college first. When she graduated from high school, we got married.”

  “You were young.”

  “Probably too young.” He stared at his living room carpet. “I thought we were happy. I thought we wanted the same things, but over time, she changed. Eventually, nothing I did wa
s good enough. I was holding her back. I wasn’t supporting her dreams.”

  “That’s rough.”

  He looked at her. “The quints were the final straw. It was a very rocky pregnancy.” His voice lowered as he discussed the past. “She spent four months in the hospital, having to lie down. I thought that once the babies were born, and she could see them, she’d change her mind. But she didn’t.”

  Her heart ached for him. She knew how much it hurt when she lost John. But he still loved her; he hadn’t chosen to leave. Michael’s pain must have been so much worse.

  “Do you want children?” he asked suddenly. “I mean your own children?”

  Olivia took a deep breath. Here goes -- one of the painful parts. “I can’t have children.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “That car accident,” she said slowly. “It messed up more than my legs. So I can’t have children. I assumed one day I’d adopt.”

  “That’s --” He stopped, uncertain of what to say.

  She watched the conflicting emotions on his face. “Admit it. Part of you is relieved.”

  He smiled faintly. “A little, but I know that must have been devastating for you. You’ve got a big heart and you’re a natural with children.”

  He had a big heart as well. She reached over and kissed him briefly. “Thank you. But if we ultimately decide to stay together, to become a family, you don’t have to worry about adding any more to your quiver.”

  Michael stiffened and she realized that she was jumping ahead too fast. He’d said he wanted to see if their relationship could be something more, but he hadn’t mentioned marriage. She should know by now that he was a careful man. He wasn’t a risk taker, but she trusted that when he did make up his mind, he’d be committed to her one hundred percent.

  She gathered up the afghan. “You mentioned cookies earlier. Where are they?”

  #

  MARCH

  Olivia stood in her kitchen, by the back door, kissing Michael good night.

  Her knees already felt weak, and if she kissed him much longer, she was afraid she’d melt into a puddle on the floor. But it was so wonderful in his arms, she didn’t want to let go.

  One more kiss, she thought, but instead, he lifted his head. “It’s time for me to go home.” His voice was husky.