Their Precious Christmas Miracle: Mistletoe Baby / In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Baby By Christmas. Tanya Michaels
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wanted to talk to me about?”
“Move back home.”
“What? But—”
“Not with me,” he clarified. “I’ll stay here.”
She walked into the living room, and he followed. He would have liked to sit with her on the couch, but that would put him in maddening proximity to those wonderful curves. He chose a striped wing chair instead.
“It’s quiet,” he noted.
“The dogs are out back.” She tucked her feet up under her. “Either they didn’t hear you approach, or they’ve just gotten used to you.”
“I think they like me,” he said. “Which works out nicely since I’m proposing you let me take care of them.”
She shook her head, her smile rueful. “You’re just not happy without others to look after, are you? It seems irresponsible to dump them on you. I made a promise to Winnie.”
“That her animals would be in good hands, and they will be. You’d be more comfortable at home, wouldn’t you? Sleeping in your own bed.” He lightened his tone. “Or at least hurling in the privacy of your own bathroom.”
“Ew.”
“No offense to Winnie, but her mutts aren’t the most disciplined in the world. Just look at last week when you tried to walk them and Hildie got away.” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d made a tactical misstep. Rachel was scowling. “Of course, that could have happened to anyone.”
“Probably not to you,” she grumbled.
“Never mind. What happened the other morning wasn’t really my point, I was just grasping for an example. What about the cat? Isn’t there something about pregnant women not being around litter boxes? And what if one of those dogs jumped up on you? Rach.” He glanced at her belly, trying to imagine what it would look like as it expanded with their child, wishing he could kiss her right above her belly button. “According to Dr. McDermott, everything looks great with the pregnancy. Why take any unnecessary chances, even small ones?”
Rachel hesitated, obviously pondering the points he’d made. Then she laughed. “Does it ever get exhausting, being right all the time? Still … I feel weird about swapping places without Winnie’s permission.”
“I’ll be a model pet-care provider,” he swore.
“There are five of them, counting the rabbit. The instructions were pretty lengthy.”
He smiled, sensing victory. “We can talk about it over pizza. Which should be here in about five more minutes.”
“David!” She laughed as she said it, a good sign.
“I’ve missed your laugh,” he told her, knowing he was probably pushing his luck but unable to stop himself. “I’ve missed seeing you happy.”
“I’ve missed being happy.”
He sat forward. “And you think you will be without me?”
“I don’t know. I know I wasn’t happy with who I became with you. That’s not blame,” she added quickly. “Not anymore. I was going through a lot and somehow ended up feeling like a second-class citizen. And logical or not, the resentment I was stifling turned me into someone petulant. Someone I don’t recognize and don’t want to become.”
“I want to apologize,” he said slowly, determined not to repeat this morning when they’d each said whatever popped into their minds and left each other with fresh scars. “But it feels disingenuous when I’m confused about what I’m supposed to be sorry for. A second-class citizen? That’s …”
“What, ridiculous?”
Yes. “Everyone in Mistletoe knows how much I love you,” he insisted. “I went out of my way to do things for you.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “I know. And yet you just proved my point. I tried to share something difficult and personal, something I’m not proud of, and your response, no matter how polite, was to tell me why I was wrong.”
“That’s not what I was doing! You—” He broke off, catching himself that time. “Hmm.”
She laughed, taking pity on him. “If you’re serious about taking care of the animals, follow me. I’ll show you where the rabbit is, and we’ll see if we can convince Arpeggio to come out from under whatever bed she’s chosen this time. Winnie said that the cat is still sulking about the puppy and has been fairly antisocial lately.”
With the dogs outside, they were able to coax Arpeggio out from under the guest room bed. The tricolor cat hobbled out, its gaze curious but its ears twitching back with suspicion as it approached David. He waited patiently, stretching his hand out and sitting perfectly still until the cat rubbed up against his fingers. Then he began scratching her back in earnest, and the calico started purring.
“See?” David said softly. “I’m not so bad.”
Rachel sat on the carpet next to him. “I can’t believe I don’t know the answer to this, but did you have pets growing up?”
“A few hamsters with short life spans,” he said. “Arianne had one of those beta fish. Dad’s allergic to cats and Mom’s allergic to dogs. They had a poodle when they were first married, but I don’t really remember her. What about you?”
“My mom was dead set against pets and I never really thought much about it. But Hildie’s been growing on me, despite my occasionally wanting to throttle her. Maybe I’ll get a dog,” Rachel mused.
Maybe I’ll get a dog. Ouch. It should have been something they’d done together. Why had he never considered during those long, frustrated months when she had so much love to give but no baby to lavish it upon, that she might appreciate a fuzzy friend who cuddled by her side when she was blue? Instead of just telling her to cheer up or have hope, he could have surprised her with a pet rescued from the local animal shelter. He’d asked himself—and her—what more he could have done, but maybe that was a cop-out. In retrospect, there was probably more he could have tried. Had he truly worked at staying emotionally connected with his wife or had he assumed, because of their vows, that she’d always be there?
Till death do us part. A lofty goal, but had he really worked toward it the way he did other aspirations? He’d once coached four-year-olds in the community soccer program, and they were hysterical to watch. They understood the basics, that the ball was supposed to go into the goal, but some of them seemed to think those events would just unfold, as they milled around on the field, not really making the connection between what they wanted to achieve and their own part in making it happen.
Maybe Tanner would be a better husband than David had been. He’d lost Lilah once. Having to win her back helped ensure that he appreciated her worth, knew how miserable he’d been without her.
David’s experience might be coming later in life, but he liked to think he was a quick study. “Hey, I talked to Tanner earlier. He wanted to ask us a favor.”
“Does he need something for the wedding?”
“Actually, no, he wanted to recruit us for some Christmas shopping.”
“You mean he’s looking for help finding Lilah a present?”
“He wanted to know if we’d go with them out of town this weekend for a holiday shopping spree.”
The doorbell gonged, startling them both.
“That’ll be the pizza.” David stood, reaching for the wallet in his jeans pocket. “Is it okay that I took care of dinner plans?”
“In theory, it was high-handed.” She smiled up at him. “In practice, I am a pregnant woman who didn’t entirely realize how hungry she was or how tired she was getting until about ten minutes ago. And here you are, summoning food as if by magic. So you’re forgiven. This once.”