The Baby Tree (Christian Romance)

by Beverly Farr

  She’d forgotten how beautiful Michael was. Tall and lean in jeans and his leather jacket. The sight of him in her doorway made her heart pound. “Come in.”

  “Thank you.” He looked around her sparsely decorated apartment. “You haven’t unpacked yet?” He sounded hopeful.

  “Most everything is in storage. I don’t know if I’m eventually going to buy a house, but I would need to sell the one in Dallas, first.”

  “You’re planning to stay here permanently, then.”

  She looked into his cool, blue eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.” Much of her future decisions would depend upon him and what they discussed today.

  He sat on her couch. Crick jumped onto his lap.

  Olivia sat across from him in a recliner.

  Michael spoke. “You were right about Mary Ellen. I talked to her and worked out how we’re going to handle the media attention.”

  “I’m glad.” She’d seen a picture of the children on the Internet, but most of the newer information about Marielle focused on her progress on Super and not on her biological children.

  Michael said, “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I keep thinking that somehow I can control the attention my children get. That I can make them have a normal childhood -- whatever that is. But I can’t. They’re quintuplets. I can’t hide them away forever.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “I’ll still try to limit the circus aspect, but the most important thing is for them to have a happy family with a father who loves them. If I have a calmer attitude, maybe it won’t be so traumatic for them.”

  Olivia nodded, pleased. It sounded like Michael was more at peace. “What about me? How do I fit in?”

  Michael’s gaze seemed to burn through her. He walked over to her chair and knelt on the floor before her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m proposing,” he said seriously and took her hand in his. “I want to do it right this time. I don’t have a cravat or a British accent --”

  “You don’t need that.”

  “ -- but I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to be the mother to my children.”

  Olivia heart softened. That was what she wanted, too.

  Michael said, “But that’s up to you. You have a new job here. You may have decided I’m not worth the heartache.”

  Olivia spoke slowly, “When you didn’t call or try to reach me, I felt rejected. I thought you didn’t love me, after all.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You did hurt my heart,” she admitted. “But you were the one who had brought it back to life. Before I met you, I was merely existing.”

  “You’ll give me another chance?”

  Olivia looked down at the man she loved. Was it wise? Should she trust him? She felt a glowing warmth that seemed to radiate from within. Was that God’s reassurance? “Yes,” she said seriously. “With all my heart.”

  He kissed her hand, then stood and drew her towards him. They hugged and kissed again.

  Olivia felt as if she’d finally come home.

  A few minutes later, they sat curled on the couch, making plans. Olivia would give reasonable notice at her job and return to Dallas. Michael’s father would perform the ceremony and Michael’s mother would help plan a reception. Olivia grew teary eyed, thinking of her parents and her siblings who wouldn’t be there, and started to tell Michael about their death.

  “Mrs. Shuman told me,” he said quietly.

  She should have known. “When?”

  Michael held her close. “Two days ago. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “I do want to,” Olivia said, relieved that it was out in the open at last. “They died when I was away at college. Our house caught on fire.”

  “From the dryer?”

  “Yes. The firemen came and saved the house and most of the stuff, but everyone died from the smoke.”

  “In their sleep?”

  “I don’t think they suffered.”

  Michael said seriously, “I promise you that we will have the best fire and carbon monoxide alarms. And we’ll never run the dryer when we’re asleep.”

  “Thank you.”

  Michael was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry I won’t get to know your family. I was looking forward to meeting everyone.”

  She appreciated that. “You would have liked them. My dad was a high school biology teacher. He named all our pets after famous scientists. We had a mean Siamese named Mendel.”

  “And your mom?”

  “She was an excellent cook. That was her Snickerdoodle recipe I used.”

  “Now I really wish I could have known her.”

  Olivia liked his gentle humor. She sensed that she’d finally found someone who would listen to all her memories. “I would have told you before, but people get so weird about it. If I tell people too soon, I’m forever labeled as the girl who lost her entire family. That happened in college. It was hard to relax and have fun with my friends because everyone expected me to grieve constantly. Not that I didn’t grieve -- sometimes I still do -- but it makes people uncomfortable.”

  “People don’t know what to say.”

  “I understand that, but I learned to keep my history more private. I told John after we were dating, and he grew protective, as if I were a delicate, fragile creature. I know he loved me, but sometimes I wondered if half of his devotion was merely feeling sorry for me.” Olivia sighed, remembering what an excellent man he had been. Part of her would always love him, but she’d build the rest of her life with Michael.

  “Then he died, too.”

  She nodded. “And I was in the hospital.”

  “Did you feel like Job?”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But John’s family was wonderful. They knew I didn’t have anyone, so they were very supportive, very kind.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She looked into Michael’s eyes. “I wanted you to know me for myself, without the baggage. I’m more than just a list of the hard times I’ve had.”

  He said, “Just as I’m more than the divorced father of quintuplets.”

  “Exactly.” She was glad he understood.

  Michael said, “Isn’t that what we all want -- to be loved and accepted for what we are? Or more accurately -- in spite of what we are?”

  Olivia smiled. Her dad would have approved. “I love you,” she said and kissed him again.

  Crick meowed, interrupting them and demanding attention.

  Michael laughed and petted his head. “I love you, too, Crick.”

  EPILOGUE

  SEPTEMBER

  Michael came back after changing Grant’s diaper. He looked around the church reception hall which was decorated with white netting and flowers. The room was full of their friends and family. Olivia, beautiful with her hair arranged high on her head and wearing an elegant white wedding dress, stood over by the refreshment table, talking with Shannon, who was her matron of honor. Several of her other friends were bridesmaids. Brent was his best man.

  The children, their children now, were dressed in white formal clothes with pale blue bow ties, or in Amelia’s case, a blue satin ribbon tied around her white dress.

  Miss Kate hovered in the background, wiping sticky hands and trying to keep the children from escaping.

  His Dad had performed the ceremony.

  What a difference a year made. Michael remembered feeling lost and overwhelmed, wondering if God had forgotten him.

  But God had not forgotten him. He’d placed him next door to the woman who would be an ideal companion, an ideal mother. He thought of the verses that seemed to describe Olivia best:

  Charity suffereth long and is kind.

  Charity envieth not;

  Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

  Doth not behave itself unseemly,

  Seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

  Rejoiceth not in
iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

  Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

  Charity never faileth.

  Being with Olivia made him want to be a better man.

  He prayed that he would never fail her.

  He thought briefly of his first wedding, but without pain. Marielle had been the runner up in the Super competition, but that had been good enough, because she had a new recording contract and was currently on tour with a best selling album. As long as she kept her distance, he wished her well. There were occasional media contacts about the children, but none that interrupted their lives.

  Sometimes he worried how they would feel as they grew older and realized that their biological mother cared so little for them. “Don’t borrow tomorrow’s trouble,” Olivia said, and he knew she was right.

  Wash, Grant, Linc, Jeff and Amelia were all happy and healthy, approaching their second birthday and asserting their independence. “No,” was their favorite word.

  Olivia saw him watching her and walked over and took his hand. “How are you, husband?”

  How he loved her. How infinitely precious she was. He kissed her. “Excellent now.”

  The End

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I hope you enjoyed The Baby Tree. I’m a quilter like Olivia and I also watch too many Jane Austen movies.

  FYI: all the cute things the quintuplets did in this story, my kids did. As for the not-so-cute things, I plead the fifth.

  If you’re interested in reading more of my books, you might like Forgotten Honeymoon , Baby Comes First or Her Ex Next Door.

  If you want to learn about new books and free short stories, you can sign up for my newsletter at my blog www.beverlyfarr.com.

  I love to hear from my readers. You can email me at beverly.farr.author@gmail.com or post a review on Amazon or Goodreads. I’d greatly appreciate it.

  Thanks.

  Beverly