Christmas Surprises (14 page)

"Here, I'll put my arms around you to give us both some room."

"Oh, that's nice," she'd murmured, her cheek on his chest, her body curled into his.

It had been nice... for about five minutes. 

"Sweet mother of all that is good," Micah had murmured.  "You're like a giant space heater, Rachel.  I'm actually sweating.  And while I'm not normally opposed to working up a sweat with you --"

"You know, it's not heaven for me either right now," she'd whispered.  "Just try your best to sleep.  Sweat and all."

And no matter how much they'd adjusted and readjusted, they'd given up. Micah had moved to the floor and was lying there in an uncomfortable looking heap when she'd woken up early, before their kids.

Like she'd done a few times before in their marriage (a few thousand times, actually), she began poking him awake, her finger right into his chest, over and over again.

"Micah, Micah, Micah," she whispered.

Just like he'd done all those times as well, he reached out and pulled her close, except this time, with her in the bed and him on the floor, gravity made his efforts more pronounced, and the result was that they bumped heads before she fell down on top of him.

"Owwww," she moaned as quietly as possible, glancing over to check that the girls were still asleep, even with the small groan Micah gave as she knocked the air out of him.  "Good grief..."

"Head," Micah muttered, even as she shushed him.  "My head hurts."

"I know," she murmured.  "Are you concussed?  Are you even awake?  Open your eyes, Micah.  Let me see if you're okay."

He opened one eye tentatively.  She watched the dilation carefully, holding one finger out in front of his face, moving it back and forth as his eyes trailed it.

"What are you doing?," he whispered.

"Checking to make sure you're okay," she said.  "You should do the same for me."

"You're fine," he said.

"Well, you're not really checking --"

"So, so, so fine," he grinned, pulling her close.

"Fine?  That word went out of style when we were about eleven," she whispered, unable to fight the grin that came with the words. 

"When you were eleven," he said.  "I'm way younger than you are."

"Shut up."

"Wow, that never gets old," he said, grinning.  "Waking up with you like this."

"Merry Christmas," she answered, smiling back.

And just as she came in to kiss him, Zoe rolled over, and Mia gave a sigh.

"Better get out of here and get Christmas set up before they wake up," Rachel said, sneaking a kiss to his lips then standing.

He followed her up, then out to the hallway where they could smell food.

"Grant's been up making breakfast," he said, even as they made their way into the kitchen.  "Guess the roads are really that bad if he didn't leave right away for the restaurant."

That was good news.  Not about the weather, of course.  But about Grant, about him taking some extra time here.

"You want some coffee?," Micah asked.

"I would, if I could drink it," she said.

"Why can't you drink it?," he asked.

"My lip hurts," she murmured.  "Stupid dog."

"Where?," Micah breathed, coming over to her.

"Right here," she pointed.  "She bit me right here."

"Let me kiss it and make it better," he whispered, placing his lips on hers tenderly.  "Better?"

"No," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.  "Kiss it again."

Another kiss.  "Better?"  Another shake of her head.  Another kiss.  "Better yet?"  Her two fingers held up to indicate a little.  Another kiss.  And --

"Well, good morning, roomies," Jacob cooed, coming into the kitchen from the back door, Sugar in his arms.

"Good morning," Micah sighed, pulling himself away from Rachel's lips, still holding her close.  "You took the beast out for us.  Thank you."

"It's like potty training a toddler, standing there and cheering like the Cowboys won the Super Bowl just because the dog peed in the snow."

"Snow?!," Rachel asked, pulling away from Micah and looking out the window.  "Well, no wonder Grant stayed behind."

"That, and Maddie's sick." Gracie said, entering the kitchen herself from the stairs, holding a napping Ben in her arms.  "Came down to get Ben some water and ran into Grant.  Apparently, she had way too much tiramisu last night."

Rachel nearly gasped, thinking of the euphemism she'd sworn to Grant that she'd forget... then groaning.  "Oh, well, I wondered what she was eating last night.  Bless her heart.  Do I need to go check on her?"

"Maybe," Gracie said.  "But first, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"Rachel, I'm so sorry," Gracie murmured in a much subdued voice.  "I've gotten it as cleaned up as I could, but still.  I'm so sorry.  There's probably some residue left over."

Rachel blinked back alarm.  "Residue?"

"Yes," Gracie sighed dramatically.  "We're living out of suitcases and all, obviously, and normally, I'd close the diaper bag up after I use it, but my head is all over the place.  I left it open because I couldn't find a pair of baby socks --"

"Because we have no idea where they're packed," Jacob added.  "Seriously, the baby is going to have to wear my socks."

"Exactly," Gracie said, smiling at him.  "But the bag was open, and Ben got in there and found the baby lotion.  Praise God, he didn't eat any of it."

"Praise God," Micah added, looking over at Rachel, waiting for the bad news with her.

"But he did put it on, you know, like just lathered it on everywhere.  Double, triple coated himself.  Emptied the bottle!"

"Used it as a drum on my head later," Jacob added.  "That's how I woke up.  How Gracie woke up, too, because she fell asleep on top of me --"

"Hush," she said.  "So, anyway, Ben was covered in lotion.  Even had his diaper off.  And a shirt?  Well, forget about it.  That boy is going to grow up to be a nudist.  Well, nude except he does enjoy wearing my high heels.  Naked as God made him, strutting around in my high heels like he's on a runway --"

"Yeah, we've got to get him to stop that," Jacob frowned.

"He had no diaper on?," Rachel asked, thinking of a poop mess to end all poop messes in her beautiful bedroom.

"No diaper," Gracie smiled reassuringly, "but he was clean!  Well, except for the lotion.  And I have no idea what he was thinking, but... well, Rachel, he was so unevenly greased up that he likely just wanted to spread it around.  Which is probably why he went over to the wall and rolled along it, leaving lotion
everywhere
."

"Like his body was a paint roller, and your wall was a canvas," Jacob sighed.

"Everywhere," Gracie moaned.  "Oh, Rachel, I tried to clean it up, but there was so much lotion."

"Kids are such freaks," Jacob grinned.

"Yeah, that's why he's already on his first nap of the day," Gracie said, looking down at him.  "Poor kid wore himself out being a freak and all, all over your bedroom walls."

Rachel opened her mouth to comment... then shut it again, absolutely no idea what to say in offering to this.

"So," Micah offered a second later, just as lost for words as Rachel.  "Maddie.  Sick."

"Mercy, yes," Gracie cooed.  "And Grant said it was the tiramisu, which none of the rest of us even ate, but Rachel..."  She bit her lip.  "I just wonder, you know, because there's a stomach flu going around.  And we've all been here, up in one another's space for nearly twenty-four hours, and my kids' immunity is kaput after the move and no flu shots, so there's just no telling what kind of germs they're going to be able to pass along."

Oh, the very thought.  Rachel resisted the urge to grab a bottle of Lysol and start spraying everyone down individually.

Micah could see the struggle in her eyes, even as she looked to the cabinet where it was kept.

"Hey," he said to the group, his hands to his wife's shoulders, "why don't we go ahead and set up Christmas before all the kids are up?"

And Rachel, thankful for the distraction, simply nodded and went with him.

Natalie

There was a knock on her door that morning, only a few minutes after she'd finished reading her Bible and praying for the day ahead.

She pictured Brian on the other side of the door, ready to wish her a merry Christmas, and she'd smiled as she'd made her way over there, so thankful that the weather had given them even more time together.

But when she opened the door, it was Micah and Joy that stood on the other side.

If that didn't take her back to twenty or so Christmases in her lifetime, she didn't know what would. 

She remembered the Christmas where Chris had opened their bedroom door to an elementary aged Micah and a toddler aged Joy. 

"Dad!," Micah had said.  "There's a batcave under the tree!  Santa brought a batcave!" 

And as was fitting, Joy had Micah's Batman action figure in her mouth, chewing on his head, even as she jumped around like her brother, excited for him.

"Dad, you have to come with us and be the Joker!," he'd said, and Chris had smiled as he'd left the room to much noise and excitement.

Then, there was another Christmas with her children at the door, long before sunrise.  A teenage Micah with exhaustion in his eyes and an exuberant Joy clutching his hand. 

"Santa came!," she'd yelled.  "Santa came!  Dad, he came!" 

Micah had sighed, just as Chris had, and he'd added, with a yawn in his voice, "She woke me up at 3am, Dad.  I couldn't hold her off any longer."

She could still remember the Christmas a few years later, with Micah spending the majority of the holiday sulking over a breakup, with Joy pulling him to the door of his parents' room that morning, proclaiming to them all, "We need to open gifts so Micah will get in a better mood.  It's Jesus's birthday, after all." 

And Chris had said, "You're right.  Happy birthday, Jesus.  And that girl wasn't the right one for you, Micah." 

Which had been true, of course.

The mood had been somber for all of them a couple of Christmases later. 

She remembered every detail.  Micah and Joy at her door on Christmas morning, walking into the room that felt so empty without Chris, who had only been gone a few weeks. 

"Merry Christmas," Micah had said softly.  "We made you breakfast." 

She'd thought about Chris, telling her on all the Christmases past how one day -- yes, one day -- those kids of theirs would be real adults and would wake them up on Christmas Day at a normal hour and only then to tell them that they'd done something spectacularly wonderful for their parents.  A trip to Fiji.  A new widescreen TV.  "I'd settle for them just making us breakfast instead of screaming in here about gifts and how we need to get out of bed already," he'd joked.

She'd heard Micah tell her that they'd made breakfast... and she'd begun to cry.  Which was reason enough for Joy, holding her brother's hand and so close to her own grief as well, to cry, too.  Soon, Natalie was lying down in bed again with both of her adult children holding her, all three of them mourning the loss they felt together.