Renee Andrews - Yuletide Twins

Laura’s hand was at her throat, her eyes glistening at the image. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered.

David swallowed, uncertain whether she was talking about the photo itself or the beauty of a complete family, something she didn’t have for her little girls. His heart ached for her, and he longed to reach out and hold her, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She’d balked earlier when he said she could stay in his apartment because she thought he was trying to cross the line into a personal relationship. But David had determined long ago that his relationship with Laura was strictly friendship. And right now she needed a friend.

“You’re going to be a great mother, Laura. And your relationship with your girls will be beautiful, too,” he said honestly.

She blinked a couple of times, moved her eyes from the photograph to David, and undeniable gratitude shone from the pale blue. “You think so, David? Really?”

He realized that she needed reassurance of the fact and that she probably hadn’t received it from anyone else. Jared had asked her to end the pregnancy, and her parents practically begged her to put the babies up for adoption. But Laura wanted her girls, and David needed her to know that he believed in her. A single tear leaked from her right eye, and he placed a finger against the droplet on her cheek to softly wipe it away. “I know so,” he said. “Just think about what you did tonight, talking with Kaden and helping him get excited about reading and sharing his books with his friends. You’re a natural.”

“He’s six,” she said, “a bit different than newborns, don’t you think?”

“Motherhood instincts are there, and you are a natural. Like I said, you’re going to be great, and they’re going to love you.”

She studied the photo another moment then said, “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go get you settled in.”

This time she followed him through the gallery. He picked up the luggage when they reached the kitchen and then stopped at the foot of the stairs. “You go first, and I’ll follow.”

She gave him a knowing glance. “You afraid I’ll get off balance and fall? I’ll have you know I’ve had to tackle some form of stairs nearly every day of the pregnancy, and they haven’t gotten the best of me yet. And now that I’ll be living here, I’ll navigate these every day.”

“Yeah,” David said, eyeing the steepness of the stairwell. “And I’m not so sure that’s a great thing. Maybe we should keep looking for other rental places, some that are on the first floor.”

She smirked. “Never knew you to be such a worrier. I can still drive—the doctor said so—and I can still climb stairs.” She stepped ahead and started up the first steps. “But if it will make you feel better, I always use the handrails.” She placed a firm palm on the banister to prove her point. “See?”

“Yeah, I see,” he said, but he still wasn’t thrilled at the thought of her climbing all of the stairs every day. What if she did fall? More worries came to mind. What if she went into labor trying to make her way to the apartment? Or what if she went into labor in the apartment and then had to climb down the stairs to get to the hospital? As if he wanted to make certain she knew, he said, “When you go into labor, just call me. I’ll make sure you get to the hospital in time.”

Her smirk moved into a smile. “You’re precious, you know that?”

“Precious, yep, that’s me. That’s what I go for.” And that’s what he’d always been to Laura, and to most every other girl before the relationships eventually ended. Precious. A friend.

She laughed, and even though he wasn’t thrilled with his never-changing “best bud” status, he was glad to have given her that luxury. “You know what I mean,” she said.

“Yeah, I do.” It was the same thing Mia Carter had meant when she told him she’d fallen for Jacob Brantley. And then AnnElise Riley last year, when she’d left town with Gage Sommers. And, the most memorable of all, Laura herself, who’d fallen for his college roommate without even realizing David was captivated, as well.

And although David had experienced one semi-long-term relationship in college with a girl who did, in fact, think he hung the moon, he’d ended the relationship with Cassadee because she hadn’t shared his faith.

And that was what David wanted—the kind of relationship that lasted for life, with God in its center—what he’d witnessed with his grandparents and parents. He’d never felt that toward Cassadee, or Laura, or any of the others, really. But he had no doubt he would, one day, in God’s time. For now, though, he’d be a friend to the cute, very pregnant woman making her way up the stairs.

Laura slowed her progress as she examined several photographs. In the gallery, the only personal photo of Mandy’s was the one Laura had noticed; however, all of the photos lining the stairwell were of Mandy’s family. “Is that Mandy’s husband?” She pointed to a photo of Mandy, Daniel and Kaden amid a group of children in Africa.

“Yes, they lead up a support effort in Malawi that our church funds, and they travel down every other year to check on the kids.”

“That’s so wonderful,” she whispered, then took another couple of steps before she stopped again, her head tilting at the largest photo on the wall. “That’s Kaden, right?” She pointed to the toddler between the couple. “And that’s Mandy’s husband, but that isn’t Mandy, is it?”

David’s chest caught a little when he looked at the image, the way it always did when he remembered his dear friends. “Actually, that isn’t Daniel. It’s his twin, Jacob. And that’s Mandy’s sister, Mia. They’re Kaden’s parents, but...”

Laura audibly inhaled. “I remember now. Mia, that was your friend you were so close to from home, and during your senior year at UT they were killed in a car accident.”

“Hit by a drunk driver,” David said, that painful memory slamming him the way it always did. “Kaden was only three, and Mandy adopted him.”

“And Daniel?” she asked, glancing between the two pictures to see the powerful resemblance between the identical twins.

“He’d been serving as a full-time missionary in Africa, at the place the church supports, but came back to help Mandy raise Kaden.”

“And they fell in love,” Laura said, emotion flowing through her words. “What a sad—and beautiful—story.”

David nodded, his own emotions not allowing him to say more. Then he cleared his throat and forced his attention away from the photos. “You want to head on up? The luggage is getting a little heavy here.” David winced at the lie. He hadn’t intended to tell it, but he hadn’t expected to reminisce over painful memories tonight, either.

Laura gave him a look that said she knew he wasn’t telling the truth but that she’d also let it go. Evidently she knew he was tired of thinking about Jacob’s and Mia’s deaths. “Sorry,” she said softly, then completed the few steps left to reach the apartment.

She glanced in the first bedroom, a twin bed against one wall and bookshelves lining the remainder of the room. A baseball comforter covered the bed, and a long blue pillow with Kaden embroidered in red centered the headboard made of baseball bats. “Oh, how cute!” she said, taking it all in. “I want to have a neat room for my girls, too. I need to start thinking about that.”

“Well, from what Mandy has told me, Kaden has an identical room to that one at their home. When she and Daniel married, they were going to move all of Kaden’s things to the new place, but then Mandy said she knew he’d be spending a lot of time here with her, especially in the summer when school is out, so she kept his room intact. She also converted one of her studio rooms downstairs into a room for Mia.”