A Baby for Easter (15 page)

She was well and truly trapped. Micah might leave soon, if
she was lucky, but Daniel would eventually come further into the office and see
that she was kneeling in his closet.

She would be exposed as an eavesdropper and have absolutely
no defense for herself.

She started to pray desperately for a fire or flood or some
sort of distraction to provide her a means of escape.

Daniel continued, “But get it together with God first. You
need to do that first.”

Micah made an impatient sound. “Damn it—I’ve told you over
and over again that it’s not a problem with God.”

“And you’ll have to accept that I don’t believe that’s
true.”

“I don’t have to accept anything.” Micah’s voice faded as
the words continued, and she realized he must be walking out of the office.

“Micah, wait,” Daniel said, obviously following him out.

Alice stumbled to her feet and checked to make sure the
office was empty. Then she limped out of it, out of the outer office, and into
the bathroom, where she sat on the toilet and covered her face with her hands.

She was shaking helplessly and couldn’t begin to process
everything she’d heard.

But she’d never had a prayer answered quite so quickly
before.

***

She was leaving the church and
heading to her car, a rattled, emotional mess, when she ran into Lydia Morgan.

Lydia was just getting out of her car, and she waved at
Alice and started to approach.

Alice didn’t feel like talking, but she had no reason to be
rude to Lydia.

“Are you all swamped with getting ready for Easter weekend?”
Lydia asked, smoothing down her lovely red hair, even though not a single,
shiny hair was out of place.

“Not really. I think I’m caught up, anyway. I was just
heading home.”

“I need to catch Daniel for a minute. Is he there?”

“Yeah. He was there with Micah. They should be…somewhere.”

“Okay, great.” Lydia grinned at her. “How are things going
with you and Micah?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean? Everyone is talking about it.
There’s a big controversy between people who’ve known it all along and those
who think it just came out of nowhere.”

Alice’s cheeks burned at the idea of the whole town talking
about her.

As if she’d read her mind, Lydia said more gently, “Well,
what do you expect? This is Willow Park.”

“I know. I just don’t know if there’s anything to talk about
yet. We’re not a couple or anything.”

Lydia laughed. “Of course, you are. He’s always had a thing
for you. Remember when he used to call you that nickname?”

“Dormouse.”

“Yeah. Well, other kids would call you that—in not as nice a
way—and he’d always go after them and make them take it back. Did you know he
did that?”

Alice swallowed over a lump in her throat. “No. I didn’t
know that.”

“I really thought you two would start dating after his
senior year. After we broke up, I mean. I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t.”

“He was going away for college.”

“Yeah.” Lydia’s face was reflective. “I guess it might have
been bad timing. But the timing is good now, though, right?”

“I don’t know.” Alice was still overwhelmed with the
conversation she’d overheard, and she hadn’t yet fully processed it.

“So what’s holding you back?”

“It’s not always that easy.”

“I don’t know why not. It seems pretty obvious with you two.”
She gave a graceful shrug. “But I’m pretty ignorant about romantic
relationships, so what do I know?”

Alice searched her face, but there didn’t seem to be any
guile or equivocation there. “To tell you the truth, I thought maybe you and he
would pick back up—”

Lydia gave a short burst of laughter. “That would be the
death of both of us. We were never any good together. High school is one thing,
but the real world…oh no. Besides, I really don’t think I’m intended to get
married.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t think I’m called to that life.” Lydia looked
completely calm, completely convinced.

“Why not?”

“For a lot of reasons. But, right now, I’m heading to India,
so a relationship is the last thing on my mind. I really don’t think I’ll ever
get married. Not every woman does, you know. It doesn’t mean I can’t live a
complete, fulfilled life.”

“I know that. I’m just surprised. You’re still young and
things might change.”

“So they might change. I don’t think they will, but who
knows? For now, I’m not worried about it. But I do hope you and Micah work it
out. Something always came alive on his face, whenever he was with you. And
I’ve seen it there again in the last few weeks.”

Alice felt a strange mingling of pleasure and poignancy. To
hide it, she said, “I think it’s great you’re going to India. It’s going to be
really hard, isn’t it?”

“Sure it is. But I’ve been over there before, so I know what
I’m getting into. And my heart breaks for these girls. They’re practically
babies, and they’re sold to the brothels. I really want to help.”

“That’s amazing work. I don’t know how you do it. I mean,
you’ll be giving up so much…I mean…” Alice wasn’t sure how to say what she
wanted to say, but evidently Lydia understood it.

She reached out and squeezed Alice’s arm briefly. “Yeah. But
sometimes you need to do something, no matter what the risk, just because it’s
right.”

The words resonated with Alice, for some reason. She kept
hearing them even after Lydia said goodbye and disappeared into the church. And
even after Alice drove over to the Duncans to pick up Cara.

Then she stopped hearing them because she got a phone call.

The college outside of Asheville—offering her a position in
the library.

They wanted her to start in two weeks.

Micah got home later than she
expected him.

She’d made some grilled chicken and a big salad, but dinner
time came and went and Micah didn’t appear. It made her very nervous, since she
was afraid he might be avoiding her.

She’d told Micah that morning that she wanted to have a
conversation, and he obviously didn’t want to have it. From overhearing his
conversation with Daniel, she understood now why he was hesitating.

But the urgency had increased significantly because she had
to make a decision about the job offer by Monday.

Cara had been feeling a little better that day, but she
declined as the afternoon progressed. So she was crying when Micah came home
just before seven.

Alice had been thinking they might go to the Good Friday
service at church that evening, since Micah was supposed to help out with that
service too. But one look at Micah’s face told her that wasn’t likely to
happen.

He looked different. Closed down, somehow. Like he’d decided
something important in her absence. Something very important to her.

She reminded herself not to read into his expression when
she didn’t know any real answers yet.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, reaching over to take Cara from
her arms and hug the little girl to his chest.

“It’s fine. Is everything all right?” She searched his face,
hoping to see some sort of softening. Surely he’d taken Daniel’s words to heart
earlier in the day. Surely he could see how wrong his thinking was.

“Yeah. Just been a long day.” With a groan, he lowered
himself to the recliner with Cara in his arms.

“I guess you’ll have to get going soon, if you want to get
to the service on time.”

“I’m not going,” he said. “I told Daniel I wasn’t up to it,
with Cara having the ear infection and everything.”

Alice stood very still for a minute, trying to think. While
skipping a church service wasn’t a huge deal, this time it felt wrong. Like it
revealed something not good about Micah’s state of mind. “I can stay with her,
if you don’t want to leave her in the nursery. I mean, if you’re supposed to do—”

“No,” he interrupted, ostensibly speaking casually. “I’m not
going. But you go on ahead. There’s no reason for you to miss it too.”

She frowned. “I can stay here with you and Cara.”

“No. You go on.”

He wasn’t just being polite. He was telling her to leave.
His tone hadn’t been rude, but she understood the undercurrents.

He didn’t want to talk to her. Which meant he didn’t have
anything good to say.

Which meant he’d come to his final conclusions, and they were
going to break her heart.

She felt herself go white, as she stood in the middle of his
living room, gazing at Micah—tired, rumpled, handsome, and so far away from her
now—with Cara squirming in his arms.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He met her eyes for just a minute before he looked away.
“Yeah. I’m sure. I need some time alone.”

“Okay.”

She had to walk away now. Away from him. That was what her
rules commanded her—the only way she could protect herself, the only way she
could keep from being stupid.

If he didn’t want a relationship with her, then she would
have to just move on. She wasn’t going to stay and strip herself bare, beg him
to change his mind, or try to trap him in something he didn’t want.

She’d made all those mistakes before, and she’d sworn not to
do them again.

So she cleared her throat and turned her back on him. Then
she walked over to pick up her purse in the kitchen.

It was wrong. It was all wrong. Nothing had ever felt more
wrong in her life. But she kept walking until she was at the side door, and
then she got into her car—which Micah had fixed for her—and drove away from the
house.

And she told herself that, when the Good Friday service was
over, she’d go back to her little apartment, pack up her things, and return to
her parents’ house. Then she’d accept the job offer and try to resurrect her
life once again, since this attempt was clearly a failure.

If this thing with Micah was over, then it was over.

What she wanted was never what she actually got.

***

Alice cried through most of the
service.

She really tried not to, but she was too emotional, too
upset. She’d sat next to her parents, and she could tell her mom was worried
about her. But there wasn’t anything Alice could do to stop herself.

Micah should be here. She knew he should be here. He
needed
to be here, just like she did.

To know again what forgiveness had cost.

She occasionally saw Daniel glance back toward her, and she
knew he was worried too. Jessica came to find her after the service, and the
other woman gave her a hug. Both Jessica and Daniel obviously both knew what was
going on with Micah.

“Did he say anything?” Jessica asked.

Alice shook her head. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Well, don’t give up on him. I don’t think he’s made his
real decision yet.”

And stupidly—so stupidly—that gave Alice a little hope.

So, when she went back home afterwards, she didn’t go up to
her apartment after all. She knocked on Micah’s side door.

She waited for a minute before he opened it.

He stood in front of her, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a
stiff expression, with Cara in his arms.

When he didn’t step aside, she asked hesitantly, “Can I…can
I come in?”

She wasn’t sure for a minute, but he finally stepped out of
the way. She went into the kitchen and saw he’d cleaned it up since she’d left
earlier.

“How is she doing?” Alice asked, reaching out to stroke
Cara’s face. The baby looked sleepy and unhappy, but she wasn’t screaming.

“I think she might be feeling better.” His voice was
strangely hoarse.

“How are
you
?” she
asked.

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. She could see it in his face. He was trying
for a cool, composed expression, but his eyes were bleeding wounds.

And she couldn’t stand it.

Without thinking through any wise strategy, she burst out, “I
got the job. At the college. They called me this afternoon.”

“That’s great. Congratulations.” He stood stiffly in the
middle of his kitchen, nothing softening in his expression at all.

“Yeah, I guess.” She gulped, realizing he wasn’t going to bring
up what she needed to be brought up, so she’d have to do it herself. “I’m just
not sure what to do. I don’t know if I should take it.”

“You should take it.” His blue eyes were resting on her
face, but they didn’t seem to really see her.

A stab of pain shot through her chest. “You think I should
take it?”

“Of course. It’s what you’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

She twisted her hands behind her back. “I’ll have to move,
to take the job.”

“So you should move.”

“You think…you think that’s best?” It hurt so much to ask.
Hurt so much that he obviously meant it.

“Yeah. You should go where the job is. There’s nothing tying
you here.”

She gasped from the pain of it and dropped her eyes to the
floor, fighting to keep her composure.

She understood what Micah was telling her. There could be no
confusion or doubt about it. Not anymore.

She should just accept it and move on. That was what her
rules would have her do. No hoping for a future with a man who wouldn’t offer
her one.

Micah obviously wasn’t offering. There was nothing left to
hope for here.

He might want her—she knew he did—but he didn’t want her
enough.

Even knowing that, she couldn’t keep from asking, rather
raspily, “That’s really what you…what you want?”

“It’s not about me. It’s about you. And Willow Park can
offer you nothing in the long run.” His voice was hoarse, but it didn’t falter.

She stood by herself, shaking and trying to force back
rising sobs, while Micah stood with Cara a few feet away.

Everything she wanted.

Everything she wasn’t going to get.

“Alice,” Micah said, obviously affected by her visible
emotion. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s really for the best. You’ll
never get what you want and need here. I think you’re just remembering the way
it used to be—when we were at camp together. It was really good. For both of
us. But that’s not the way it is anymore. That’s not the person I am anymore.
And Willow Park will just end up breaking your heart.”

She almost choked on a surge of grief. “Don’t you
understand, Micah? It’s breaking my heart right now.”

He still didn’t answer—just stood frozen, staring at her—and
that was answer enough.

She nodded her head through her tears. “Okay. I’ll accept
the job. I’ll move out tomorrow and stay with my parents until I leave town.” Then
she gave a jerk as she realized something. “Unless you need me to give two
weeks’ notice because I’m working for—”

“Of course not. We always knew this arrangement would just
be temporary.”

“Okay.” She stepped over and pressed a kiss on Cara’s warm
cheek, the last time she’d be able to do so, and she gave a few tight sobs
before she controlled herself again. “Goodbye, sweetie.”

And that was it. There was nothing left to say.

Whatever spiritual battle Micah was fighting was strong
enough to drown out everything else. She wasn’t going to hang around to be a
casualty of it.

So she wiped away her tears and walked to the door of the
kitchen.

She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder one time at
Micah and Cara.

But he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t taken one step toward her. He
didn’t want her enough to do that.

***

Alice took a shower and changed into
her pajamas, but she couldn’t even come close to sleeping.

She cried and prayed and called Jana, her friend from
Asheville, but at one in the morning she was convinced that she’d left too much
unsaid. She hadn’t done everything she should have done.

It was breaking all of her rules—the rules that were
supposed to protect her heart—but that kind of protection seemed to be a moot
point now anyway.

This was wrong. It was simply wrong in every way. And, no
matter what she risked, she needed to do what was right.

So she put on her slippers and went outside, walking down
her stairs and across the path to the house in the dark.

She knocked on the door, but no one answered. Then she looked
in the garage and saw that the SUV was gone.

Micah had left, and he must have taken Cara with him.

She was almost shaking with the absolute compulsion to tell
him what needed to be said. He wasn’t here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t
reach him. She didn’t think it through. She just returned to her apartment,
found her phone, and called him.

He didn’t pick up, so she just burst out into a long,
rambling message—one that was supposed to capture everything she’d been
thinking about, everything she needed to say.

“Hi. It’s me. I know it’s late, but I just went over to the
house and you weren’t there. I hope you’re all right. And I hope Cara is all
right. I didn’t say everything I should have said before. I was too scared. But
I want to say it now. I overheard part of your conversation with Daniel today.
I was filing in the closet in his office, and you all came in and started
talking before I could let you know I was there. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,
but I heard what you said—about how you think you’re too broken…for me. And I
just don’t think that’s right, for you to make decisions based on that idea. I
know you’re trying to come to terms with your old life and your new life, but I
don’t think it’s good for you to act like that’s true. I think it’s still based
on what you were telling me before—that you always felt like you weren’t good
enough for your family. I think you’ve always compared yourself to Daniel and
to other men and think you’ve come up short. But the truth is all of us come up
short. I come up just as short as you do when I’m compared to the person I
should be. So it’s just wrong to assume you’re somehow too broken. And—”

The voice mail cut her off, so she redialed until it picked
up again. Then she rambled on. “Sorry. Me again. I think Daniel’s right about
it being a spiritual issue. You know, Daniel and I know you better than you
know yourself. And we both know that you’re wrong in making this decision. I
wonder if maybe you’re just afraid. Because you’ve never been in a serious
relationship, and it’s so different from the way you’ve been with women in the
past. So all this stuff is finally coming up. You think I’m seeing you only as
the boy from high school, the one I spent the summer with at that camp. And
that’s not true. I did love the boy you used to be, the one I knew back then. I
really did love him. But I love the man you are now too—and I love him more and
deeper and more fully than I ever loved the boy. I think there’s more of him now
to love. And I really do know who you are. I know how you didn’t live out what
you believe for all those years. I’m not fooling myself about that. And I love
you anyway, and I trust you anyway—because I’ve messed up just as much as you
have, and—” She growled with frustration when the voice mail cut her off again
and she immediately dialed back.

“It’s like you don’t think you deserve to be happy, when you
know, you know, you
know
it’s never
about what we deserve. I’ve been doing the same thing. Not letting myself
believe in something good because I’ve made so many mistakes before. I think
both of us are expecting too little. Because it’s not just about Good Friday.
It’s about Easter morning. And that means he doesn’t just fix what’s broken. He
makes it new. He makes it beautiful. Think about Cara. He took your broken life
and gave you
her
.”