The Baby Tree (Christian Romance) Read online

  “No. I don't think there would be a big demand. There are only about a hundred quints in the country. Besides, I'm not even sure it will work. The first version collapsed on me.”

  “I think a lot of parents would be interested in something like this,” she said. “Especially if it came in different sizes. You could sell it on your website.” Her mind jumped ahead, designing a product logo. The words 'baby stockade' could be written in rope in script with the end of the rope forming a lasso around several babies wearing cowboy hats.

  He fitted poles into plastic joints. “Perhaps.”

  He didn't bother to look at her. She could tell that he wanted to work on his project, instead of wasting time, gabbing with her all day. “Well, good luck,” she said, and walked back to her car.

  #

  Michael forced himself to pay attention to the baby stockade instead of watching Olivia walk back to her car. Did she have any idea how attractive she was in that damp Cowboys t-shirt and shorts? Her legs went on forever. And it wasn't just her physical attributes that made him notice her. After Mary Ellen, he knew that beauty could be just skin deep. Olivia was different. She was pretty, but there was a glow about her, something sweet and clean as if life's harsh realities hadn't hardened her. Against his better judgment, that sweetness drew him to her, like a bee to nectar.

  As he finished setting up the stockade, he kept looking at her, stealing glances in her direction. She finished rinsing the Honda and started drying it with an old pink bath towel.

  “Are you ready now?”

  He startled. It was Miss Kate, holding Amelia.

  “Yes, it's done.” Michael put his hammer down on the rocking chair and then climbed over the mesh wall into the center of the stockade. He held out his hands to take his young daughter. “Bring them all out, and let's test it.”

  #

  Olivia wandered over to the fence to watch. She hadn't seen all five of his children yet. Miss Kate carried each baby, one at time, and handed them to their father, who set them carefully down by his feet on the tarp floor. They were beautiful, fair skinned, fuzzy haired babies, with pudgy arms and legs, all dressed in identical sleeveless navy blue rompers.

  How could anyone tell them apart?

  Four of the babies loved the stockade and immediately started crawling around, investigating. They scratched at the tarp floor and tried to bite it. The fifth, sat down, turned red and cried. Michael picked him up. “It's okay,” he whispered and gave the baby a hug.

  Her heart seemed to melt. He was a good father, gentle and patient. I want a child, she thought.

  One of the babies pulled himself up by a support bar. The stockade wobbled slightly, but it stood firm. Unlike the baby, who wobbled, let go, and sat down, thump, on his diapered rump. He looked surprised, but didn't cry, and turned around to crawl in another direction.

  “It looks like a success,” Olivia said loudly. “Congratulations.”

  Michael smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

  Miss Kate interrupted them with, “If you don't need me outside any more, I'm going inside to run the vacuum.”

  “Good idea.” After Miss Kate left, he said to Olivia, “It's hard to find time to vacuum. Linc is terrified by the noise, Wash wants to follow it around to take it apart, and Jeff wants to chew on the electrical cord.”

  “And if they're asleep, it wakes them up?”

  “You got it.” He smiled. “Would you like to meet my children?”

  Olivia wasn't going to give him a chance to change his mind. “I'll be right over.” She hurried down her driveway to the gate that opened from his side yard into his backyard.

  The gate wasn't locked, so she let herself in.

  She came to the edge of the stockade. “Who's who?”

  Michael lifted the child in his arms a few inches. “This one, my snugly boy, is Linc. The boy who wants to stand up, is Wash.”

  Her arms ached to hold them. “Is that Jeff who is untying your shoe?”

  His look was thoughtful. “You remembered him.”

  “It's not hard. I like children.”

  “Then come on in.”

  She thought he'd never ask. She took his outstretched hand for support and swung her leg over the side of the stockade.

  #

  Olivia was a natural with the children. She sat on the ground and let them climb all over her. Amelia chewed on the end of her braid. Jeff was fascinated by her shoelaces.

  “Watch out for Grant, he's a spitter,” Michael warned, but Olivia didn't seem worried. She held Wash on her lap. “Who’s this? Tell me about him.”

  “That’s Wash. He's the biggest and the most advanced physically. With multiple births, it can take a while for them to catch up to their chronological age.”

  “Oh. Like preemies.” Wash anchored his feet on her legs and grabbed her t-shirt to pull himself upright. “He's determined,” she said. “Is Wash short for Washington?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. “At least you didn't name one Bush. Or Taft.”

  “I wanted to give them names to live up to. By the time everyone started teasing me and humming Hail to the Chief, it was too late. Linc looked like a Lincoln to me, and Grant like a Grant.”

  “And Amelia is after Amelia Earhart?”

  “Since there haven't been any women presidents, yet, I had to look elsewhere for her role model.”

  Without warning, Wash grabbed her glasses and stuffed one lens in his mouth. She gently pulled the glasses out of his grasp, and tried to hide them behind her back, but he squirmed to get free so he could find them. “Oh, you're smart,” she said. “I can't fool you, can I?” She put the glasses back on, but he had slobbered on them and the lenses were too cloudy for her to see through. She wiped them on her t-shirt, but that only smeared them further.

  “Sorry about that,” Michael said.

  “Would you hold them for me, out of the way?”

  Michael took her glasses and put them in the pocket of his plaid short sleeved shirt. Linc watched with interest and tried to grab them, too, so Michael set him down on the ground. He protested and clung to Michael's leg. Michael pulled a teething ring out of his other shirt pocket and handed it to Linc, distracting him, and quieting him.

  Olivia smiled. Without her glasses, her eyes looked bigger and a deeper blue. A man could get lost in eyes that blue. She said, “I'm going to have to start wearing contact lenses or get a seeing eye dog.”

  “Let me wash your glasses.”

  She waved her hand. “Don't bother. I'm just a little nearsighted. If I squint, I'm fine.” She sat Jeff on her lap and ran her hand over his smooth round legs. “His skin is so soft.”

  Jeff turned his head and put his droolly mouth on her arm.

  “That's a kiss,” Michael said.

  Olivia hugged the baby to her. “What a sweetheart. Tell me about Jeff.”

  Michael patted Jeff's head and he turned to look up and smile at his father. “Ah ya dada ba,” he jabbered.

  “Jeff's our talker. He's always chatting. We just don't know what language he's speaking.”

  “And Grant?”

  Grant climbed over Amelia, who happily pulled at his ears. “Grant and Amelia are best friends. They're usually inseparable. They scream and won't go to sleep unless their cribs are next to each other, so they can reach through the bars and touch each other.”

  “I've heard of that with twins, too.”

  Grant spit up a quarter sized spot on Amelia, who didn't notice. Michael took a clean baby blanket and wiped the white goo off her. “Grant's a reflexive baby.”

  “What's that?”

  “He spits up a lot. His digestive system isn't as developed as the other kids. He should grow out of it eventually, but until then --”

  “Watch out!” Olivia supplied. She wiped at a similar white stain on her shorts.

  “It's gross to us, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He's a very cheerful baby, and he's certainly getting enough to eat.” Grant w
as as chubby as the rest of them.

  “And Amelia?” Olivia asked. Amelia turned and looked at her, recognizing her name.

  “Amelia's our detail person. She is fascinated by little things, like pieces of lint and thread. She can turn pages in books and will stare at the pictures for fifteen, twenty minutes sometimes. Everyone else just wants to rip pages and eat them.” Michael quickly added, “Not the books you gave us. I'm keeping them on a higher shelf.”

  Olivia smiled. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. I was rude that day and didn't thank you properly. They're very nice books.”

  “I'm glad you like them.” She watched Amelia scoot back toward Grant.

  Linc crawled over to Olivia and put his head on her lap. He rubbed his face against her leg, then relaxed. Michael watched as Olivia smoothed Linc's fair hair with her fingers. Linc sighed and patted her leg gently.

  She'd make a good mother someday.

  She looked up at Michael. “They're wonderful.”

  He separated Grant and Wash who were grabbing at each other's hair and fussing. “They're great kids,” he agreed. “But it's tough at three in the morning when they're all crying and they all want a bottle and they all want to be held.”

  “Do you have any help at night?”

  “Not yet, but I'm thinking about getting a night time nanny, too.” Amelia started crying and Linc looked as if he would join along. “It's lunch time,” Michael said suddenly. “I'd better get them inside before they all start crying.” One crying baby was difficult enough for non-parents. Five were overwhelming. He picked up Linc under one arm and Amelia under the other. Wash pulled himself up, holding onto Michael's pant leg. Jeff grabbed at Wash. Grant sat several feet away, watching them with interest.

  “I'll help,” Olivia offered. She knelt down to pick up Jeff. She glanced at Michael. “You look like a baby tree,” she said, then stopped and stared, looking first at him, then at the children, and back at him. “That's it!” she exclaimed and rose to her feet.

  He was startled. “What's it?”

  “Later,” she said quickly. “I’ll tell you later. Got to go.” She patted Amelia and Linc on the head and hugged Michael. “This is wonderful,” she said breathlessly. She bent down to address Wash, Grant and Jeff, too. “Thank you, thank you.” She climbed out of the stockade and ran through the gate to her yard.

  Michael felt a little dazed himself. What was that all about? “What about your glasses?”

  “Later!” she called, and the screen door swung shut behind her.

  Michael shook his head in disbelief. Olivia might be sweet and charming, and great with children, but she was definitely strange.

  #

  Olivia looked through the proofs on her drawing table. The brochures for the line of women's business wear looked good. She glanced at her watch. Just in time. She was meeting with the vice president to finalize the production order over a light lunch.

  Olivia stood and tucked her silky blouse into a narrow skirt. The only downside of working with a clothing designer was becoming self-conscious about her clothes. She turned around to check the back of her skirt to make sure everything was smooth.

  “Hi there.”

  Olivia looked up abruptly. It was Larry, a young man she’d met through the Christian dating service. He was five foot ten, twenty eight, reddish brown hair, nice chin. He smiled and held up a big white bag in front of himself. “You said you usually ate at your desk, so I thought I'd surprise you with Chinese.”

  What a sweet idea. Olivia wished she weren't in such a hurry. She bit her lip. “I'm sorry,” she said contritely. “But I've got a lunch appointment. Business,” she added quickly, when she saw his disappointment. “But it was a great idea. Really.” She sniffed. “And it smells wonderful.”

  Larry brightened a little at that. “Do you want me to leave it here and we can eat it tomorrow? Do you have a refrigerator?”

  Tomorrow. If he came by tomorrow, her co-workers would start asking questions, assuming there was more to their relationship than there was. Part of her wished she’d never mentioned where she worked, but then she hadn’t thought he’d show up, either. She knew he was trying to be proactive and spontaneous, but she also didn’t want a stalker. “Are you free tonight?” she asked. “We could meet at my house and eat it for dinner.”

  “I'd like that. Should I come by at seven?”

  Olivia mentally sighed. She'd hoped to go home, strip out of her professional clothes and spend the evening in a t-shirt and shorts, working on her new book idea. But it was too late now. “Make it six-thirty,” she said. Hopefully she could kick him out of her house by nine and still have a few hours to work.

  #

  SEPTEMBER

  “Beep, beep, convoy coming through.”

  Olivia stood in the frozen vegetable section of a grocery warehouse, wondering if she had enough room in her freezer for both a five pound bag of French fries and a bag of Chinese vegetables. She turned around to see Michael with two of his children strapped into a huge double seater shopping cart. She smiled. “Hello. Where are the rest of them?”

  “I traded them for this neat shirt in the clothes section.”

  Olivia eyed his vivid green striped shirt with suspicion. Maybe all engineers were fashion-blind. “I think they got the best of the deal.”

  “Actually, they're home with Miss Kate.” He grabbed one of Jeff's shoes and one of Linc’s and wiggled them, making the little boys smile at him. “I like to take the kids with me when I run errands, but if I take more than two, I don't get much done, and it draws too much attention.”

  “I can imagine.” Even with the green striped shirt, they made an attractive picture: the tall, dark, good-looking man and the two cherubic babies. She saw a woman holding a package of frozen cauliflower watching them with interest.

  Linc spit out his pacifier and it clattered on the floor.

  “I'll get it,” Olivia offered, and reached for it at the same time Michael did. For a second his hand covered hers, then she pulled away.

  Michael put the pacifier in his jeans pocket. “Sorry, Linc,” he said as the baby protested. “At home I wouldn't mind giving it back to you, but not here. Too many germs.” He scrunched up his eyes and mouth, making a silly face, which distracted Linc. “Eeeuuuww,” Michael said. Jeff laughed and waved his arms up and down.

  Olivia could see the special bond of love they shared. She watched, feeling like an outsider. She said, “Thank you again for returning my glasses.” After her visit to his backyard, he'd wrapped her glasses in tissue paper and put them in her mailbox.

  “I rang your doorbell, but you didn't answer.”

  “No, I don't answer the phone or my door when I'm working.”

  “Working on what?”

  “A picture. I'm an artist.” She didn't want to tell him her idea yet, not before it was more polished. She'd found that if she shared her ideas too soon, she worried too much about what others would think, and she lost her creative edge. “I haven’t had a new idea in a long time, and last week when I was with you, it just hit me. Like a bolt of lightning.”

  “And you needed to strike while the iron was hot.”

  “That's right.” She was glad he understood. “How many weeks worth of diapers is that?” she asked.

  Michael had two carts, one with the boys and one filled with two huge boxes of disposable diapers. “We go through two hundred a week, so it's about a month's worth.”

  Olivia was amazed. “You should make a deal with one of the diaper companies. Put your children in the commercials in exchange for free diapers.”

  He stiffened and his eyes were like ice. “Absolutely not. It's my job to support my family. Not the other way around.”

  She hadn't meant to offend him. “I just th--”

  “You just thought I should take advantage of having quintuplets. Exploiting my children and turning their lives into a media frenzy.”

  His tone was harsh.

&nb
sp; Olivia said, “No, I hadn't thought of it that way, but I can see your point. And I respect your position.” Not many people would feel so strongly about it.

  He stood, staring at the floor, his mouth set in a firm line as he struggled with his emotions. “I'm sorry,” he said finally, in a calmer tone, and looked up at her. “That's one of my hot buttons.”

  She had a few topics that were off-limits herself. “Then I guess I won't make a million selling tickets in my backyard.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.” He looked in the boys' cart. “I forgot the wipes. Would you mind watching the boys for a minute while I run back and get them?”

  I like you, his look said. I trust you.

  This was his way of making amends for getting angry. “I'd be happy to.”

  “Thanks.” He touched her arm briefly. “You're a life saver.”

  What flavor, she thought, but didn't say it. He was already halfway down the aisle.

  Both boys watched their father disappear around the end of the aisle. Linc pushed out his lower lip. “Ba ba ba,” he said and tears filled his eyes.

  Olivia hugged him. He smelled like soap and sour formula and his shirt was a soft, huggable, cotton knit. “Don't cry, sweetie,” she said. “Daddy will be back in a minute.”

  Jeff pulled at her hair and grabbed her earring. “Ouch!” She took her earrings off and slipped them into the pocket of her skirt.

  “I gave up wearing jewelry when my children were babies.”

  Olivia looked over to see a grandmotherly woman standing next to her. “It is certainly safer,” she agreed and rubbed her sore earlobe.

  “How old are they?”

  Olivia had to think for a minute. “Ten months?”

  “It's hard to keep track, isn't it?” The woman smiled at the boys and they grinned in response. “They're beautiful. They have your husband’s hair and eyes, but they have your chin.”

  Olivia wasn't sure that was a compliment. Both boys had round double chins. “Oh, we're not married,” she said quickly, then clarified, “They're not mine. I'm just watching them for a few minutes.”