Christmas Surprises (11 page)

For all of, what, ten minutes of sunrise?  Not likely.  Grant would need to be there earlier than that.

She could see all the hesitations on his face.  And she could see Maddie disappearing even more into herself.

"Hey, Grant," she said, breaking loose of Micah's hold.  Hey, he'd behaved badly enough out of righteous, protective anger over his mother.  She was entitled to the same with her sister-in-law, right?  "I need to talk with you in the kitchen."

She didn't even wait for a response, just went in there expecting that he would follow, which he did.  Because even though he was her older brother and never let her boss him around once in his life, he knew she meant business when she got her crazy eyes on.

And her crazy eyes were most definitely on after the day they'd had.

"What?," he asked as they got in, and he shut the door behind them.  "Want to get on to me for potentially ruining Mom's big Christmas celebration?  Rachel, I'll make sure the food gets there even if I'm --"

"I don't care about Mom's Christmas," she said.  "That doesn't matter at all."

"Then why were you yelling at me out there, in front of everyone?," he asked.

"Because your wife, you idiot," she said  "Your wife is disappearing out there, and you haven't even noticed that you have a problem!"

He watched her for a minute, then shook his head.  "She's just... it's just the pregnancy," he said.  "And her book sales aren't what she thought they'd be.  She's got a lot going on."

"The greatest of which is that her husband doesn't seem to ever slow down and spend any time with her," she said.  "Grant, it's none of my business, but --"

"You're right," he said.  "It's none of your business."

Well, like that had ever stopped her.

"You're working on Sundays now," she said.  "Your restaurant is open seven days a week, and --"

"Because the money is so good," he said.  "I need the money to get out of debt --"

"That debt didn't need to be paid off so quickly," Rachel interrupted.  "Especially not if it's pulling you away from church and your small group in the process."

"I still go to our small group," he muttered.

She knew he didn't, though.  Or she'd suspected it because she'd been able to get Maddie on the phone those nights they were supposed to be at Bible study with their small group.  Grant was working, which meant Maddie went alone.... which meant Maddie eventually stopped going, too.  Or would, if things continued on like this.

"And I still go to church," Grant said.  "When I can.  It's just different now, Rachel.  I have a family to take care of, to provide for."

"And a wife to still love," Rachel said.  "She has to know you love her, Grant.  You have to make an effort to show her."

"I'll have you know," he said, lowering his voice, "that I made her tiramisu."  He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

What in the world did that mean?

"Okay, if that's some euphemism or something, I'll repeat myself and say that it's none of my business," she said.

"Euphemism?," he sputtered.  "What I meant was --"

"But honestly, if you're intent on going there," she kept right on going, "it's obvious that Maddie hasn't been getting any tiramisu lately, Grant, if you know what I'm saying.  And married women need some tiramisu.  And I would know, because I'm a
happily
married woman who gets tiramisu any time I want it."

He stared at her for a long moment.  "Wow.  We both need to forget what you just said.  For our own sanity and general mental health.  Honestly."

Yeah.  Probably not the best topic for a brother and sister to be discussing and all.  Although Grant really did need to hear all of this from someone!  (Just not her, obviously.)

She nodded after a moment.  "You're right.  Forget I said any of that."

"Forgotten," he said.

"But my point is still --"

"I get your point," he said, "and I understand what you're saying.  But the best way to love Maddie right now is to keep a roof over her head.  And it would be nice if it was a bigger roof by the time the baby gets here, you know?"

"But, Grant," she said, thinking of how a bigger place wouldn't matter if Maddie was gone by the time he'd earned it.  You couldn't put off today what would jeopardize tomorrow.  "She needs --"

"You don't understand," he said very curtly.  "You don't have any idea what it means to be a provider.  To have a family counting on you to be a success, to bring home an income.  You don't have any clue how stressed out Micah probably is half the time, trying to pay for this home, for your car, for everything the twins need, for that really expensive dog you've got now, for that pool you're going to build, that driveway he needs to have fixed, and a million other things.  It's a lot.  It's a lot to have everyone needing you."

And that?  Was like a slap in the face.  A woman couldn't just be a wife and a mother.  She'd already been struggling with that.  But to hear this from her brother, about how being a stay at home mom when she could do so much more to help out would be like being a giant mooch, the very essence of anti-feminism.

He hadn't said that really... but he had!  He might has well have said it because she heard it, loud and clear, and it sounded like every speech she'd ever heard her mother give.

"Why, thank you, Barbara," she managed in her most sarcastic voice.

Grant tilted his head at her.  "What?  What does Mom have to do with me taking care of my wi--"

"I'm calling you Barbara!," she yelled at him.  "Because you're a feminist!"

He frowned.  "Have you lost your mind, Rachel?"

Probably.  Just a little, maybe.

"Maybe I don't want to work!," she yelled.  "Maybe I'm just fine staying at home for the rest of my life without ever putting my scrubs back on and going to work!"

That was the first time she'd said that out loud.  The first time she'd let herself really think it, honestly.

She meant it, though.  She really meant it.  She didn't want to go back to work!

Wow.  The freedom of admitting this.  The freedom in even considering it. Too much, so much...

Why had she said this to Grant if she'd never even been able to admit it to herself?  Why hadn't she said it to Micah, who would care to hear it?

"I don't care," Grant said, echoing her thoughts.  "Good for you.  Whatever.  But you're wrong about the restaurant and Maddie --"

"I'm just done, Grant," Rachel hissed, thinking that she had enough problems of her own (clearly, right?) without owning her brother's as well.  It was making her head hurt as bad as her lip.  "Ruin your marriage, whatever.  It's none of my business."

None of her business. 

"I'm not ruining my marriage!," he hissed after her.

But she simply made the shushing noise, covered her ears, and did her best to leave that mess in the kitchen.

Natalie

"Gammy, it's not too late for another story!"

They'd all made arrangements for the night and all of Rachel's unexpected overnight guests.  Joy and Taylor to their suite, like normal.  Grant and Maddie to the room that would end up being one of the twins' rooms, once they grew up enough to no longer want to be roommates.  (If they ever did.)  Jacob and Gracie to Rachel and Micah's bedroom, where there was enough room for their kids to be in there with them, until they could be moved long term to the two spare rooms that Natalie and Brian would be taking for the night.  Micah and Rachel would sleep with the twins, though it was doubtful now as she watched her granddaughters that the girls would leave Brian alone long enough to get any sleep anyway.

"Yeah, Gammy," he sighed, reclining in the spare bed, each twin nestled underneath an arm, a book held out in his hands.  "With that storm blowing in, we've got loads of time."

And like that, Natalie's attention was forced back to her granddaughters, both of whom had settled in with her fiancé, their fingers already pointing him to the first line of the story, both of them grinning.

Completely identical, with Micah's eyes and Rachel's smile... but in the way they smirked even now, they reminded her of Chris.

Her mind went back to their tiny student apartment and Chris, all of twenty years old, stepping back from their bed, which doubled as a changing table (because there was no room for a changing table and no money for one either), his shirt streaked with pee, smirking over at her.

"Should've figured that would happen," he'd said, laughing out loud.  "Micah, you're a stinker.  I think you were aiming for my face."

Micah had been a stinker even then. 

But he'd been more as well.  She could see Chris sitting on the same bed with him in a different house, more grown up, so much more grown up as he'd put his arm around five year old Micah's shoulders, and told him about how Mommy's tests had come back from the doctor, how the baby was going to be very special, how she'd need her big brother more than most little sisters.

And those memories naturally led to the memory of him sitting there with Micah a few years after that, Joy in his arms, as Micah prayed and told Jesus how he'd live the rest of his life for Him.  To another ten years later, as Micah, beaming from ear to ear, had handed Chris the letter about the scholarship, then a few years later, another letter to dental school, which Chris had celebrated with a laugh, a bear hug, and a, "Dr. Micah Johnson!  Going to take care of us all in our old age!"

And then, not so long after that memory, another remembrance of that same bed, that same house, Micah kneeling there... but no Chris.

Just her, lying there, sedation for the shock not so far away now, blissful sleep so she wouldn't keep imagining the wreck, but not before she could hear Micah whisper, "I'll take care of you.  You and Joy both."

She'd been asleep before she could tell him that he didn't need to, that she'd be okay.

No wonder he was acting like this now, feeling like he was being kept from keeping a promise he'd made in his heart to his father, his own way of grieving the loss.

Chris.  Her mind went back to him, how she'd spent those early years of grief imagining him sitting there on that bed, just like he was really there, for every big moment.

Joy was going to get married.  She'd imagined Chris wiping away tears with her as she'd thought through the details, about how Joy was everything they'd prayed she would be, perfect in her own way and so wonderfully everything to a young man who treated her with such care and tenderness.  Then, Rachel.  Oh, Rachel, bringing out the very best in Micah because he was her best friend.  Natalie had imagined telling it all to Chris, had imagined his smile as he'd heard about her, as they'd announced an engagement, as Natalie had come back to her house after the wedding, no one to celebrate the joy of having raised two children who loved the Lord so entirely, the joy of being truly empty-nested...

Empty.  Oh, so empty.

And a new season.  It had been Christmas, not so long ago, when she'd gotten the breathless call from Micah.  A baby.  Then, a few weeks later.  "Mom... oh, Mom... there are two heartbeats.  There are TWO!"

She'd marveled at the news, cried over the joy, and had imagined Chris, celebrating his grandchildren as well.

"Twins?," he'd asked in her mind, sitting there on the edge of the bed, looking for all the world like he was still twenty, just a kid himself, hearing that he was going to have grandchildren.  The Chris she'd known, the Chris she'd missed.  She'd taken a shallow breath, imagining it all, her phone to her chest, sliding down to the floor to sit as the tears had done the same down her face, missing him so much, wishing so entirely that he was really there, that he'd celebrate this incredible moment with her.