Christmas Surprises

Christmas Surprises

Jenn Faulk

Copyright © 2015 Jenn Faulk

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13:

Other Jenn faulk books

Resolutions

Different Stars

Just Breathe

Best Day Ever

Even Still

Ready or Not

A Little Faith

Promises Kept

Beyond the Game

Just Friends

A New Tune

Pure Fiction

Home to You

Something Better

From Here on Out

Anywhere

Happily Ever After

Perfectly Pretend

Take Heart

So Like Us

CONTENTS

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CHAPTER one

Rachel

It was going to be the best Christmas ever.

That was saying a lot because Rachel Johnson had experienced some wonderful Christmas holidays over the years.  Back when she'd been Rachel Finn, the daughter of college professors who took every school break as an invitation to educate their own children as diligently as they educated hundreds of undergraduates, Christmas had included trips to historical sites in the US, geographical wonders, and, yes, that one Christmas where they'd taken her and her brother, Grant, to New York City, where they visited one museum after another.  Rachel, all braces and long, gangly limbs as a teenager, hadn't been nearly as taken with the educational side of the trip as she had been with the lights of the big city, the holiday decorations, and the fancy dinners, keeping them out late every night, as she counted herself so lucky to be in the most exciting place in the world for Christmas. 

That Christmas had ranked at the top of her list... until she'd met Micah.

And then?  Well, Micah and every Christmas spent with him, no matter where they were, pretty much trumped every childhood Christmas she'd experienced.  (Sorry not sorry, Mom and Dad.)

They had been newlyweds their first Christmas together.  They'd been living in the house she'd owned long before he came along, packing up boxes and getting it ready for the closing day, anticipating life in the huge house they were building out in the country, savoring every moment, every long night, and every sweet second together.

They'd had plans to spend Christmas Day with her parents and his mother both, right on the university campus where her father was now president, where her mother spent almost every night of the week entertaining very important academic people at the president's manor, right across from the library.  Grant and his girlfriend, Maddie, were planning on being there as well, where they'd likely sit around and watch football most of the day, all while stuffing themselves full of whatever Grant was planning on cooking for them all.

Oh, the very thought of all that food had made Rachel queasy during that first married Christmas.  She'd hidden her new, ever-present nausea from Micah, knowing just exactly what it meant, given her nursing career and given the way she'd meticulously charted everything from the minute they'd gotten married.  Being queasy like that meant good news, she knew, which had been affirmed with a home pregnancy test and celebrated with a solo shopping trip to the baby gear superstore, where she had picked up a gift for her husband.

Christmas Day belonged to their parents, but Christmas Eve had been all theirs.  She'd decided to wait until that evening to give him the gift, to let him in on the secret, and to spend the rest of the night dreaming of all that was ahead of them.

But she was horrible with waiting.  Absolutely horrible. 

So, Christmas Eve had begun at 6am.  Technically, that was so totally Christmas Eve, right?  Micah, in his exuberance over having cancelled all of his appointments at his dental practice for the holiday, had intentionally not set an alarm for the morning, but Rachel hadn't needed any help waking up, anticipating the most exciting day of her life thus far, surely.

The most exciting day of Micah's life, too.

He'd still been snoring when she'd climbed out of bed and scurried past the packing boxes and into the living room, where she'd snatched up the present with his name on it and rushed back into their bedroom.

She'd been amazed to find that he was still asleep, that he couldn't subconsciously gather that this was the biggest moment of his life.  No problem, though, as it had given her a reason to climb up on top of him, sit on his thighs, and begin poking him in the chest.

"Micah," she'd said.  "Micah.  Micah.  Micah."

Just as she'd begun to consider tickling him to wake him up (or just smacking him on the side of the head with the gift box), he'd blinked his eyes slowly, peering at her with an obvious question on his lips... just before it disappeared, lost in the smile he gave her.

Wow.  That smile.

"Never gets old," he'd murmured, reaching up to pull her face down to his.  "Waking up and seeing you.  It never gets old..."

It never did for her, either.  All those years of waiting for a happy love story to happen in her life, all those years she'd spent alone, all those years that he'd been making his way to her... well, it all made perfect sense every day that she woke up to him, to being kissed like this, to knowing that it had been worth every single second of singleness --

"Hands to yourself for a second, mister," she'd chided as his hands had started unlacing the string on her pajama pants.  She'd plopped the gift onto his chest.  "Merry Christmas!"

"It's not Christmas yet," he'd said, glancing over at the clock.  "It's barely even Christmas Eve, Rachel.  This was our only day to sleep in, since Grant said we had to be over there at --"

"I know," she'd murmured, leaning over to kiss him again, if only to shut him up for a second.  Not that she didn't love hearing him talk, but wow, she'd needed him to open the gift.  "Open the gift."

He'd just grinned and shaken his head.  "You first," he'd said, his hands on her hips for just a moment before he'd let go and leaned over to his bedside table, opening up the drawer and pulling out a package of his own.

"What's that?," she'd gasped.

"Your gift," he'd answered.  "Knew you'd snoop, so I had to hide it."

She would have snooped under normal circumstances, but she'd been so consumed about the details of his gift that she hadn't even looked for a gift with her name on it.

"Micah, I wouldn't have snooped," she'd lied.

"Sure," he'd laughed.  "But this way I know for sure that you're going to be surprised."

She'd grinned down at him before ripping into the paper, even as he'd put his hands back to her hips, drawing her closer to him, doing his best to distract her from --

"Tickets?," she'd asked, looking at the papers in the box he'd wrapped up for her, papers with a fancy airline logo across the top.  "Are these tickets?"

"Yeah," he'd said.  "Check out the destination."

"Rio de Janeiro," Rachel had read, her heart speeding up.  "Lima.  Buenos Aires.  Oh, Micah, are we --"

"We are," he'd laughed out loud, sitting up to kiss her face to face, sliding his hands up under her shirt.  "Going to see the world with you, Rachel.  Europe last summer, South America this summer."

Summer.  Rachel had done the math in her head and had felt her heart sink.  "Oh, wow," she'd murmured.

"We'll take off for three weeks in August," he'd murmured against her neck, leaving kisses there, his hands roaming and his body moving closer to hers.  "We're only stopping in the city for a few days.  Then, we're going to see the Amazon.  Go backpacking.  Remote, off the grid.  Me and you.  All alone out there."

Except not.  Rachel had known the truth of it even as Micah's mind was already heading that way, given how he began to attempt to take off her shirt --

"I hope you got travel insurance," she'd sighed.

And he'd dropped his hands, backing away just a little, an uncertain smile on his face.  "You don't want to be alone with me?," he'd asked.

"No, that's not it," she'd said.  "It's just that... well, we're not going to be alone in August."

He'd opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but she'd offered none, handing him his gift instead.

"What do you mean --"

"Just open the gift," she'd said softly.

And he had, concern in his eyes as he'd torn apart the paper, the gift there between them, her helping him to open the box, then staring right back at him as he saw the little tiny T-shirt that said
Daddy Loves Me.

"What?," he'd asked, breathlessness in the question.

"It just happened," she'd said, knowing full well that it hadn't
just happened
, as she'd charted it, as she'd counted the days, as she'd known when it was time and had come to bed that night wearing the action shorts.  (Seriously, there was always action when she wore those tiny little shorts to bed because Micah, bless his heart, was predictable like that, and she'd used that knowledge to her advantage.)

So, honestly, it hadn't
just happened.
 

Still, though.  Given the shock on his face, she'd begun worrying that this wasn't welcome news, even though he'd said, from their wedding night on, that he'd celebrate pregnancy just as soon as God granted it to them.

But her worries had ceased when Micah - strong, confident, solid Micah - had looked at her with tears in his eyes and had whispered, "Thank you.  Rachel, thank you."

"You're welcome," she'd managed, as though she'd done it all by herself. 

Which she hadn't, clearly, the memories of it all still so vivid in her mind that morning as he'd put his hands back to her hips, picked her up so gently, and laid her down there next to him, moving over her and leaving her to think that now -- yes, now -- they were really going to celebrate --

But no.  Micah had begun crying.  In that wonderfully masculine, completely consumed way of his, reminding Rachel of all that he'd ever said about how he'd counted himself out when it came to things like marriage, like having a family of his own, like being happy, as he'd leaned over and spoken, not to her, but to someone else....

"Daddy does love you," he'd murmured, leaning down to kiss her right where he'd untied her pajama pants.  "So, so much.  And forever."

Before Rachel had been able to formulate a response to this, her own tears gathering in her eyes, he'd smiled up at her.  "I'll have to be careful with you now." 

"Not too careful," she'd insisted, pulling him down on top of her, marveling over how great Christmas was already.

The next Christmas had been even sweeter.  In the months preceding it, the morning sickness had run its course, the doctor had found two heartbeats instead of one, they'd done a big reveal party with pink everywhere, and their travel insurance paid up so much that it covered the last minute expenses they incurred when Rachel went on bed rest.  By Christmas, Mia and Zoe had arrived, of course, but neither one of them was sleeping through the night. 

No loss there, as the Christmas memory that year was of Micah slowly pacing the nursery with one sleeping pink bundle in his arms, while Rachel sat in the corner of the room holding the second, neither of them daring to speak, only mouthing words back and forth to one another.

Merry Christmas
, his lips had offered her, along with a satisfied smile.

Such a sweet, peaceful Christmas.

Then, there were completely chaotic Christmas celebrations, full of life and sound and movement and so much joy.  The girls were walking, the girls were talking, the girls were old enough to understand that the colorful boxes held toys, the girls would wake them up at 2am on Christmas morning to see what Santa had brought, and the girls were so big, so impossibly grown up, with Micah's brown eyes and Rachel's smile, talking their twin language and giggling at everything and nothing at all, just exactly like girls their age were already starting to do.

Kindergarten.  They were in kindergarten now.  Rachel couldn't fathom how that had happened, how the years of being at home full time with the twins had sprinted by so quickly.  She and Micah hadn't ever seriously discussed having another baby in all that time because two at once always felt like enough, and now that they were older, the thought of starting all over again was just exhausting.

Rachel had lost herself a little in having children.  Okay, so she'd lost a lot of herself in having children.  The minute they were in school, she'd felt the loss of purpose once the house was quiet and still.  After just a short while of that phantom, unsettling peace, she'd declared that it was time for her to get back to being her, and the best way she could figure to do that would be going back to work.