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Authors: Lynn Bulock

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BOOK: Looking for Miracles
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“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “We were so busy getting stuff for Tyler and the baby. I didn’t think about you.”

Lori shrugged. “I thought about calling Carrie, to have her go by the trailer, but then I realized I didn’t have a phone number for her at home.”

“You could have called me.”

Her snub nose wrinkled. “I most certainly could not have called you. I needed girl stuff, mister. It’s one thing to horn in on somebody’s Christmas dinner. It’s a whole ’nother ball game to ask a strange man to go through your underwear drawer.”

Mike could feel the color rising from his collar. “I see what you mean. Do you want to stop by there on the way home?”

Lori shook her head. “I’d like to, but I don’t think I’m up to it.”

“Let me,” Carrie said firmly. She was carrying a bag full of hospital supplies, bringing up the rear in the parade down the hall. A nurse pushed the wheelchair with Lori and Mikayla in it, while Mike followed behind with Tyler and his fire engine.

There wasn’t much activity in the hospital on Christmas Day. Everybody who could possibly go home had gone. Carrie insisted on being the one to go by the trailer, over Lori’s protests. “You have a family, and it’s Christmas. We can make do until tomorrow, and then I can get Mike or his mom to take me over there, I’m sure.”

Carrie wouldn’t be swayed. “My family is very understanding. And there isn’t that much family. They’re used to postponing holiday dinners because of my crazy schedule anyway. How often do
you think I get a whole day off even on Christmas?”

“That’s probably true. Let me give you the key.” Lori giggled as she fished through her battered pocketbook. “I hope I remembered to lock up. We were kind of in a hurry.”

“You might say that.” Carrie’s eyes sparkled. “It was worth the rush, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely.” They both looked down at the bundle in Lori’s arms.

Mike still didn’t get it. She was probably real pretty, for a baby less than a day old. But the two women seemed infatuated by her to a degree he couldn’t understand. The nurse joined them in their cooing. He looked at Tyler.

Here he had an ally. The boy shrugged his shoulders and held on to his fire engine. “Must be a girl thing,” he said softly. Mike held back laughter as the elevator opened to let them out in the lobby of the hospital.

He discovered it wasn’t a universal girl thing when he brought everybody home. Gloria met them at the door. She was warm to Lori, and made noises over the baby. But Tyler was definitely the man she wanted to talk to.

Mike didn’t complain. Her attention to Tyler and his shiny new fire engine gave them time to get Lori settled on the leather couch in the family
room, setting the infant seat beside her. Dogg padded up to greet her, sniffing the baby gently, then putting one large paw on Lori’s knee.

“Yes, she’s mine. That’s what all the hurry was about yesterday.” Lori stroked his pointed ears and Mike watched his big, tough dog melt. “Don’t you look festive.”

“Mom’s doing. I do not put plaid ribbon on Dogg, no matter what the occasion.” Lori would probably think the dog would look cute with ribbons. It just wasn’t a guy thing, though. “Can I get you something before dinner? Eggnog or anything?”

Lori shook her head. “No eggnog. I’d take a cup of tea if you can handle that.”

“I can handle that. Boiling water is my specialty.”

She had a great laugh. “Good. Boil a whole pot of it then. Sitting here on this couch with Mikayla and a pot of tea is my idea of a lovely Christmas Day.”

Mike wanted to tell her she didn’t have very high standards. Christmas Day, or any other day, ought to be made up of better moments than just parking on the couch with the baby and a pot of tea. Then he took a minute to review what he knew about Lori.

She was the only adult in charge at her place.
And
place
was being nice. There was no leather sofa in that mobile home, no crackling fire across the room and certainly no one to make her a pot of tea. So maybe he better keep his mouth shut and boil water.

Lori looked around the family room of the Martins’ house. She had never seen so much comfort in one place in her life. The furniture was plush upholstery or burnished leather. The fireplace took up nearly one wall in brick and stone, flanked by wood bookcases that held more books than she’d ever owned. Maybe more than she’d checked out of libraries in a lifetime.

So this was how the other half lived. Gary had always phrased things that way, and Lori had never taken it in until now. This kind of luxury, which her hosts took totally for granted, was what Gary had meant. It was what he wanted to provide for them, even if he went about it in a warped manner.

Gary had always been working and scheming so that they could see how the other half lived. But she had been happy with the way they were living. Especially for that brief time early on when Gary was still in school and she had dropped out to work to bring in money. She would have kept at it, too, even after Tyler was born. Surely between the two of them they could have worked out a schedule. By
then she was the assistant manager at the Kwik Stop and she could have taken the undesirable night hours herself for more money. But Gary wouldn’t hear of it.

No wife of his was going to work, not with a new baby. He would quit school and be the breadwinner. Unfortunately the jobs he was qualified for with only two years of a four-year science degree didn’t pay as well as her job at the Kwik Stop.

How different would life be for all of them right now if she could have convinced him that God really fulfilled all their needs? Was she really such a mutant for believing in those promises? Everyone around her seemed to think so. Gary certainly had. And look where it had led him.

Trusting himself to provide for his family without any help from God, Gary Harper was dead before he turned twenty-eight. He’d done time in jail for using that half a chemistry degree to make illegal drugs. And never once during the time he was alive did he really get to see how the other half lived.

It was so sad. Lori looked around the room again. Her tea would get cold if she mused much longer about this. And Mike had gone to a lot of trouble. He’d found one of his mom’s good teapots—Lori was sure there was more than one in a house like this. The one on the table beside her was
heavy English stoneware in a Christmasy green. A matching mug sat beside it. Nothing was chipped or dented here.

Lori felt like shaking her head. If this was what Gary had been after, he shouldn’t have bothered. The Martins had a beautiful home. Fine furniture was everywhere, and even the dog was decorated for Christmas. But somehow there was an emptiness that made Lori miss the trailer.

As the afternoon progressed, she grew even more uncomfortable. Mike’s mom was serving an excellent dinner off more matching china and silver than Lori had ever seen outside a department store. There was even Christmas-print cloth napkins, which Tyler had to be instructed on using. He’d never seen a napkin that didn’t come in a paper package of three hundred.

But there was so much missing. Dinner wasn’t over yet, and she could already feel the tension building in her. Tyler was going to pipe up with a comment any minute that would dampen the lovely atmosphere, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him.

“Hey, guy, you ready for dessert?” Here it came. Mike’s innocent question was going to set off the firestorm. Lori looked at him, trying to warn him of what might be coming, but no such luck. He was looking at Tyler, who was a sight.

“Sure. It’s Christmas. My favorite.” Tyler was grinning so wide, he looked like a jack-o’-lantern. Where he was going to put dessert after that much turkey and ham and green-bean casserole was a mystery.

“Mine, too.” Lori tried again to catch Mike’s eye, warn him somehow that he and Tyler weren’t on the same track. Before she could do that, Mikayla woke up and it was time to take her in the other room for her own dinner.

“Need any help?” Lori could tell the words were a reflex for Mike. He was used to helping women around this house.

“No, I think I’m on my own for this one.” Lori tried to hide a grin at his blush.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I could use a big glass of water.” Lori remembered this part from Tyler’s first few months. She needed to get into the habit of drinking something every time Mikayla nursed.

“Sure.” Mike was up in a flash. He settled the tumbler of water at her elbow as she got comfortable leaning on the arm of the leather sofa in the family room. Carrie’s fluffy receiving blanket made a nice tent for the baby. “This still looks like magic to me.”

“Not magic. Maybe a little miracle. But one that sure happens for a lot of people.”

“I guess.” Mike looked across the long room into the kitchen where his mother was working on a dessert tray. “What was baby feeding like nearly thirty years ago? This must be a familiar picture.”

Gloria looked startled. “Heavens. I didn’t ever… I mean, you…”

“Nursing wasn’t too fashionable for a while, Michael. Even the doctors didn’t push it much,” Lori said. Gloria gave her a grateful look, as if she’d saved her from something. It was puzzling. The whole exchange made Lori wonder, but the thought was there and gone so fast, she lost it.

“Definitely.” If Lori knew her hostess better, she would say that was relief in the older woman’s voice. “Everybody bottle fed. Mostly that lovely soy formula. I remember my friend Helen saying she never did get the spit-up stains out of her favorite chair.”

“Charming.” Mike headed back to the table. “I’m so glad I asked.”

Lori could hear Mike and Tyler help clear the table, with lots of clanging and rattling in their help. Mike didn’t seem much more gentle with his mom’s good china than Tyler.

Coward that she was, she urged them not to wait for her for dessert. Maybe Tyler would keep quiet if he didn’t have her to make faces at.

Then Gloria brought her delicately arranged tray
to the table. Here it came. “Oh. Cookies.” Tyler’s voice sounded flat, even to Lori.

“Sure. What did you expect?” Mike sounded puzzled. Even without seeing him Lori knew his broad forehead was wrinkling.

“Birthday cake. And ice cream.” Tyler’s scornful tone told everyone listening that any idiot knew that.

“Isn’t that for your birthday, Tyler?” Gloria’s voice was gentle but confused. Lori wanted to blurt something out to stop Tyler from his reply. He was much too young to know that his innocent beliefs might hurt someone else’s feelings, or make them uncomfortable. And after all that Mike and his mother had done for them already, challenging their beliefs was the last thing Lori wanted.

“Yeah, that’s for my birthday. It’s the only other time we have it. Then on Christmas we have birthday cake and ice cream again, for Jesus. I guess having cookies means we’re not going to sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ either. I like telling Jesus happy birthday.”

The table was silent. Then Lori could hear Gloria stifle a giggle. “Birthday cake for the baby Jesus. Now why didn’t I ever think of that?”

There were footsteps on the polished parquet, then a soft smack. Without even looking around the corner, Lori knew Tyler’s reaction to being kissed.
He had to be rubbing whatever portion of his head or face had gotten Gloria’s lipstick kiss. “I can’t whip up a cake on this short notice, Tyler. But there’s chocolate ice cream in the kitchen freezer. And we can definitely sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Now come and help me scoop, okay?”

“Okay!” The thump of Tyler’s tennis shoes hitting the floor was followed by him racing across the room.

“Walk in the house,” Lori called out as loudly as she dared without waking Mikayla. The baby was back to sleep, satisfied and full now. And it was Lori who felt foolish.

Tyler hadn’t embarrassed anybody. Like always, he trusted God in his childlike way, and said what was on his mind. So now he was getting his chocolate ice cream and they would all sing “Happy Birthday.”

Maybe how the other half lived wasn’t so different after all. Lori settled her daughter back in the infant seat. Chocolate ice cream sounded pretty good. And Gloria looked like a good substitute for the doting grandmother she’d always wished Tyler could have. And then there was Mike, already working his way into her heart in so many ways. “Thank you. And happy birthday,” she whispered. It was a quick prayer, but a heartfelt one.

Chapter Six

O
kay, what did they do now? Mike stared into the fire wondering how to handle having strangers spend the tail end of Christmas Day. This was one time when he wished his mom hadn’t converted to gas logs. He had nothing to stir around, and no reason to go outside for wood.

How did they all stay comfortable? Tyler’s “birthday party” had kept things going for a while. But now the fire was dying, it was getting dark outside and the dishes were done. Christmas Day had just about run out of steam.

Tyler was stretched out on the couch with Dogg’s big head on one knee. Maybe he could take the two of them for a walk, if the kid had a coat. It would burn off some excess energy.

Mike looked at Lori, sitting in the chair where she had nursed Mikayla earlier. She was asleep sitting up. It had to have been a rough day for her. This was the first Christmas without her husband, and her first full day of being the mother of two. He couldn’t even imagine how much pressure that put on a little thing like her.

The baby was sleeping in her infant seat. She was so tiny. Definitely getting better looking as the day passed. Time was making her look less red and squashy. She was still awful pink. But that nose was getting some shape, was maybe going to be pug like her mom’s. What color were her eyes? Or did all newborn babies have kind of bluish eyes like kittens? It was a good question, one he had no answer to.

He wasn’t going to wake Lori up to ask her. The nap would be over soon enough anyway. Naps always were, even on Christmas. Mike moved in his chair and Dogg perked up in response. His big brush tail thumped the floor, hoping for some more attention. He was getting plenty from Tyler, but there was always hope in his canine heart for more.

BOOK: Looking for Miracles
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