Their Precious Christmas Miracle

Chapter Ten

Rachel drove to the print shop the next morning feeling surprisingly rejuvenated. She’d dropped off to sleep as soon as David had left, and their dinner together had been … enjoyable. Almost relaxed, as if, with the strain of holding their marriage together lifted, they could just be themselves. In some ways, having the worst happen could be liberating. They’d agreed that he should take over the pet-sitting, but she’d been too tired to switch places with him last night.

Tonight she’d go home. She still had mixed feelings about that, but she’d cope. She was already dealing with separating from David, the—happy—shock of being pregnant and compiling a mental list of the decisions she’d need to start making for herself and the baby. None of it was easy, but it wasn’t impossible, either.

“Morning, May,” she called when she walked into work.

Her boss waved her own hello over a mug of coffee. “Miss Popularity! You’ve already had two phone calls this morning.”

“You’re kidding. Who from?”

“Both from Gina Oster, at the chamber of commerce. Belle showed her some of the recommendations you made for future Christmas brochures, and they want to talk to you about some projects for the spring.” May grinned. “You’re not thinking of leaving me for greener pastures, are you?”

“Don’t worry. I doubt a chamber the size of ours can afford much green,” Rachel said realistically. “But I can talk to them about some cheap independent contracting on the side.” She found herself really eager to return Gina’s call. While Rachel didn’t see the chamber as being a career move for her, it was exciting to think about ways she could use her talents to give back to the town. Mistletoe had given her so much.

“Well, Gina’s in meetings until this afternoon. That’s why she was trying to reach you so early, but if you can help them get organized, I think it’s a wonderful idea. You’ve been such an asset to me.”

Rachel was touched by the warm sincerity in the woman’s voice. “Thank you.”

She’d spent so much time lately feeling underutilized in her current career that she’d lost sight of how lucky she was. She worked for a nice person she genuinely liked, she didn’t have to wear panty hose and she wasn’t bogged down in meetings and corporate bureaucracy. And on particularly busy days, she helped balance a workload no person could manage alone.

It shaped up to be one of those days. They printed a last-minute batch of flyers for the Winter Wonderland dance that would go up all over town, farmed out a rush order for some customized baseball caps, then printed and bound a series of booklets for an upcoming business retreat. She thought about the hiking vacation she’d taken here, the lodge that was just outside town and more rustic than the popular Mistletoe Inn. The chamber of commerce should do more to play up their appeal as a place to “come get away from it all … without having to go too far” for businessmen and even vacationing tourists.

Mistletoe, a great place to bring the family. A great place to raise a family.

“Well, you’re in a good mood.”

She jumped about a foot, then turned to see David. Nonemployees weren’t allowed behind the counter where all the equipment was kept, but May would have made an exception to wave him back. “I thought I was alone. Just me and the forty booklets I promised to assemble by lunch.”

David shoved his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t mean to startle you. In fact, I would have been happy just to stand here and watch.”

“Watch me collate booklets? Make sure you stick around for the exciting encore of watching paint dry in the storeroom.”

He laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re way more interesting than paint.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You had a graceful rhythm going, complete with intermittent musical accompaniment. What were you whistling?” he asked.

“I was whistling? I was just … thinking about family.”

His gaze went instantly to her tummy then came back up to meet hers. “Excited about junior?”

“Giddy,” she agreed. “But not just about that. I was sort of counting my blessings.”

It wasn’t until he looked away that she saw how hurtful her words might be. Was it unseemly to seem so cheerfully content in front of the husband you’d recently left? She was content, though. For the first time in a long time, she was starting to believe that she’d be all right no matter what. That she could survive disappointments and missteps and pick herself up afterward. It was an empowering realization.

“Well,” he said quickly. “I just came by to get Winnie’s key.”

“Right.” Her duffel bags were packed and in the trunk of her car. She’d still feel better if she could talk with Winnie about it first, but shore-to-ship communications were spotty at best. She went to her purse and grabbed the bone-shaped key ring. “Here you go. If the dogs give you any trouble or you can’t find Arpeggio—”

With a wicked grin, David cut her off. “I’ve got it all under control. If I do have any problems, I know where to find you.”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at the role reversal. “Of course you’re completely competent. I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Believe me, I know the feeling.” He leaned forward, surprising her with a quick kiss on her cheek. “Pick you up Saturday?” It really didn’t make sense for them to drive separately to Lilah’s duplex just to pile into Tanner’s car once they arrived.

Rachel nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.” She really was, not only to the fun of shopping and laughing with Lilah, but to being in David’s company again soon.

Which meant either she and David were the most mature, well-adjusted couple ever to split or that her romantic feelings for her husband hadn’t cooled nearly as much as she’d let herself believe.

WALKING into the house was like taking a one-way trip to Rachel’s past. She set her keys on the dented antique table in the front hall—they’d bought it for a great price at this little flea market because of scratches on the surface. David had wanted to restore it, but she liked the imperfections, thought they provided more character than a glossy veneer could. The silence echoed around her, unnatural. Had it always been so quiet here? She’d grown accustomed to the considerable background noise at Winnie’s house. Here, there were no animals, only wall-to-wall memories.

She slid out of her shoes and went straight to the kitchen. Despite grappling with nausea these days, she was starving. Some men living on their own might have cupboards devoid of anything but basic guy staples, but the refrigerator boasted a huge selection of produce, marinated chicken breasts, organic eggs, three types of fruit juice and a nearly full gallon of milk. The freezer was also stocked with an array of choices. She made herself a three-egg omelet with mushrooms, cheese, peppers, broccoli florets and a side of whole-grain toast. Afterward, when she was pleasantly stuffed, she decided she should work on the scrapbook she and Ari planned to give Lilah and Tanner at their rehearsal dinner.

It had been Arianne’s idea, although Rachel freely admitted that not only did her sister-in-law take lousy pictures—half of which included her thumb over the lens—she was no good at arranging them artfully. “You have an eye for these things,” Ari had wheedled.

“In other words, you’re hoping I’ll do all the work,” Rachel had translated with a laugh.

“In a nutshell.”

With Quinn’s help, the two of them had been surreptitiously gathering pictures from half the people in town. Rachel would be shocked if Lilah and Tanner hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Mistletonians weren’t known for their ability to keep secrets. Rachel had an assortment of childhood pictures, sweetheart photos from when the couple had first dated back in high school, individual milestone shots, such as college graduations and Lilah’s first day teaching, and more recent mementos from the previous year, when they’d rekindled their romance. Even though Rachel had been happy to help with the project, she’d been procrastinating. Laying out a visual representation of another couple’s romance while her own was in decline had been difficult.

Now just the opposite was happening. Sure, there was a melancholy twinge when she looked at the timeline of Lilah and Tanner’s love spread out across her coffee table, but staring at their memories, she was also caught up in her own. Good ones. As she cut and glued and sorted through her collection of stamps and die-cut embellishments, she found herself unconsciously whistling again. She paused, replaying the melody in her mind to figure out what it was.

“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.”

Just as she was debating turning on the radio versus the television for background noise, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” David said. “I just wanted to let you know there’s a rerun of Lost on TV tonight.”

“Oh. Okay, thanks.”

“It’s a repeat, but I’m pretty sure it’s that one you missed last fall.”

Because she’d misprogrammed the VCR, she remembered, taping an hour’s worth of some completely random channel. “That’s sweet, David, but I caught that episode. Watched it online.”

There was a pause. “You saw it without me?” They’d watched the show together from the very first episode, speculating during commercials, each having different theories about where the storylines were going and how to tell when Ben was lying (when his lips were moving).

“Sorry,” she said, meaning it. Funny with everything that each of them could legitimately regret about their relationship how bad she suddenly felt about watching an hour of television alone. “You haven’t seen it?”

“No. It’s on in about ten minutes. I was planning to get the dogs settled and sit down with a sandwich for dinner.”

“I’ll turn it on, too,” she decided. “You know how that show is. There are always clues you miss the first time around.”

Once they got off the phone, she got the remote control out of the side pocket of David’s recliner and found the right channel. During the second commercial break, David called to ask her if the episode was going to conclude the way he thought—it wasn’t—and then laughingly argued with her when she refused to tell him how it did end.

“Just wait and see,” she teased. “I kind of like you not having all the answers for a change.”

“Gee, thanks.” The casual affection in his tone belied his words. “Have you been taking brat lessons from Ari?”

“I’m hanging up on you now,” she informed him. “Show’s coming back on.”

Half an hour later, he called back during another commercial break trying to remember where he’d seen one of the guest actors before.

“You know, that’s the sort of thing you could find in about thirty seconds on the Internet,” she pointed out, holding her breath. Would he tell her that the calls weren’t just about the show? Perhaps he looked forward to talking to her the same way she was looking forward to seeing him again on Saturday.

“Yeah, but if I go online, I’m going to look up the episode and see how it ends. I have no willpower.”

She snorted, thinking of his dedicated jogging regimen and the way he pursued goals with determination. “What a crock.”

“Well.” His voice went lower. “I have more self-discipline when it comes to some things than others.”

She sat a little straighter on the couch. “Really?”

“Really. I keep entertaining these thoughts that I tell myself are inappropriate, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking them.” He paused. “Anything like that ever happen to you?”

Only whenever she saw him. Or heard his voice. Or thought of him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

“Any tips on how to handle it?”

Oh, sure—the one time David asked for advice from her, she was clueless what to tell him. “You got me.”

“All evidence to the contrary.” He said it lightly, but there was a noticeable undercurrent.

He misses me. Whether his feelings were spawned by learning about the baby or by the fragile new peace between them or by nostalgia from the preparations for the upcoming wedding, she didn’t doubt that the emotion was legitimate. It wasn’t fair that they were getting along better apart than they had together. Was it because they were both so happy about the baby? It was easier to get along when things were going well, but would their renewed friendship withstand future hardships? That’s where they’d stumbled before. For better or worse. The latter was clearly the more difficult to master.

The blaring notes of some show’s theme song jolted her attention back to the television, where opening credits were rolling. She reached for the remote. “We missed the rest of Lost.”

He groaned. “Okay, now you have to tell me how it ended.”

Once she’d obligingly filled him in, they said their good-nights. With the television off and David gone, the house was more hushed than ever. Unable to get back into her scrapbooking groove, she decided to get ready for bed. And sleep where?

The logical choice was probably the larger quality mattress in the master bedroom, but she hadn’t slept there in over a month. Pondering, she flipped on the hallway light and walked to the would-be nursery where she’d spent her most recent nights in the house.

The room looked different even though nothing discernible had changed. It seemed bigger, somehow, not a place where she felt trapped anymore but a space of infinite possibilities. She thought back to her time on the phone with David, and optimism bubbled inside her. Was there a chance that, by the time they learned this baby’s gender, Rachel would be living in the house with him? She imagined sitting next to him in bed, poring over magazines together, eyeing pink teddy bear motifs or sports mobiles with soccer balls and baseballs.

“I can’t wait,” she said aloud. Was it strange to talk to your belly? “I can’t wait to meet you. We already love you so much.”

Having struggled through the tough decisions—whether to take the drugs, when it was time to stop, whether they should try again—she was exhilarated by the prospect of making the fun decisions. The nursery theme, buying cute little outfits, adding cartoons to her movie collection and finding copies of beloved children’s books. She decided not to sleep in here, whether because of superstition or because she wouldn’t get any rest staring at the walls and trying to picture how different borders and stencils would look, but she took one long last look before turning off the light.

Infinite possibilities. A phrase that suddenly seemed to apply not just to this room, but her life.

“THANKS AGAIN for agreeing to this,” David said, his grateful smile making him so appealing that Rachel lost her breath for a minute.

I want to kiss him. She turned toward the door under the pretext of trying the handle and making sure she’d locked it. “Don’t mention it.”

She hadn’t done any Christmas shopping and, like everything else in her life, she had a lot of catching up to do. Plus, she truly adored Tanner and Lilah. It promised to be an enjoyable day. For all that one heard about pregnancy mood swings, in a way, she was more serene than she had been in months.

“How are you feeling this morning?” David asked as they walked down the driveway. “Everything all right with you and the little one?”

“We’re great.” She broke into a wide smile as a thought struck her. “Just think, if all goes well, this time next year junior will be experiencing his or her first Christmas.”

David grinned with her. “And we’ll get our first shot at playing Santa. I’ll bet …” He trailed off, his smile fading.

“It’s a year away,” she said gently. “A lot could happen.” She didn’t want to make false promises or rush to any decisions, but she was going to keep an open mind.

Even if she and David parted ways as planned, she had every intention of making this split amicable and working out the best possible custody situation for all three of them. Still, the harsh truth was that no method of sharing birthdays and divvying up holidays could replace living together, having both parents there for every milestone. Her heart stuttered. What if she missed the first time their baby rolled over or slept through the night, what if she missed the first step? She couldn’t bear the idea, but she couldn’t begrudge David those moments, either.

His manner subdued, he opened her door for her.

“So, your mom came by to get the key from you?” she asked, fishing for conversation.

“Yeah. I told her we both really appreciated it.”

Susan, who’d once been Winnie’s Sunday-school teacher, would let the dogs out around lunch. Rachel had asked Tanner and Lilah if they could have an early dinner and return from their day of shopping in time for someone to give the pooches adequate attention this evening. David had promised to take them for a long walk if it wasn’t too cold.

It was only a short drive to Lilah’s. Tanner had his own apartment for the time being, but would move in with Lilah after the wedding while they waited for their house to be finished. After some weather delays and switching contractors in the middle of construction, Lilah had grumbled that the next time they had the bright idea to build their own house, she was buying stock in aspirin. Nevertheless, Rachel thought it was romantic that Lilah and Tanner had put such effort and thought into planning their future together, starting from the steel-reinforced concrete foundation and working their way up.

Lilah opened the front door before they even had a chance to knock. “Hey, guys.” She hugged both of them. “Tanner just ran back to the kitchen to grab a cookie tin.”

“Road-trip provisions,” her husband-to-be called.

“We’re not going to be on the road that long,” Lilah reminded him, smiling indulgently. “Thank heavens for Tanner. This might be the first year I don’t gain ten pounds from the holiday treats my students bring in.”

Tanner appeared in the hallway behind her, twirling his car keys. Tucked under his other arm was a blue tin painted with snowflakes. “So, are we all set to hit the road?”

Just as David was saying yes, Rachel interrupted, “Actually, Lilah, would you mind if I use your bathroom first?”

“Be my guest.”

There was nothing remarkable in Rachel’s request—the first time—but she was sure Tanner and Lilah were surprised when she asked him to pull over for their third pit stop before they reached the shopping megaplex.