Poor girl. As far as he knew, Sabrina’s morning sickness eventually wore off. She’d been lucky. But still so unhappy.
Hallie clapped her hands on both her thighs. “I’m here to help, so put me to work. No arguments.”
Brad reappeared from the kitchen. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have saved you the dishes. I could’ve made some progress on that dumb crib.”
Cassie squinted at her husband. “Progress might be a bit of a stretch.” She spoke her next comment to Hallie and Christian. “There was a lot of swearing coming from the baby’s room.”
“Is it too much to ask for some words to go along with those vague pictures masquerading as instructions? Am I supposed to screw the leg into the base, or saw the thing in half? I don’t know.” Brad crossedthe room to drop a kiss on his wife’s forehead from behind. Her tired countenance immediately brightened.
“Before long you’ll be building these things in your sleep,” Christian said.
“Let’s hope.”
“I’m serious. It only takes a few Christmas Eve all-nighters to turn dads into construction experts.”
Brad chuckled, lowering himself to perch on the arm of the couch behind Cassie. She leaned her head back against his thigh, and they shared a look that spoke of mutual adoration.
“Are you ready for dinner?” His fingers stroked her blonde curls.
Christian’s brows twitched upward. He’d never seen his buddy like this. The gentle motion, and his obvious fondness were in direct contradiction to the bro-dude persona he’d adopted during his college years.
Cassie scrunched her nose. “Ugh, no. But if you’re going to make me eat, I guess I’ll try some plain noodles.” She glanced at their guests. “My eating habits have become pickier than a toddler’s.”
Hallie popped up from the couch. “I’ll make it. Christian can help with the crib.”
He hadn’t realized this outing would require his building expertise, but she’d provided this opportunity to talk, so he’d talk. “Sure, I’d be happy to.”
Brad placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’ll holler if I need you.”
He placed another kiss on her forehead before standing. “Let’s do this.”
They walked down a hallway to the set of bedrooms at the end. An explosion of white wooden planks, screws, and cardboard greeted them in the smaller room to the left. A plush rocking chair already occupied one corner of the room. Next to it, a round nightstand held a lamp with a mini football, basketball, and baseball stacked on top of each other forming the stem. A dresser with changing pad on top stood underneath a circular mirror along the back wall.
Christian knelt amidst a box of screwdriver tips and various sizesof foam packaging. “How’re you holding up with all this?” he asked, meaning more than the task of putting together the nursery.
Brad lowered onto his haunches, picking the instruction manual up from the floor. He stared at it, his expression stony. “I’m worried.”
“About Cassie.”
A single nod confirmed the statement. “It’s not a good feeling watching your wife suffer and not knowing what to do about it.”
Wow. Marriage really had changed him. Back in college, he had about as much sensitivity as an amoeba.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad soon.” Christian shook his head.
“Pretty wild, huh? I can’t grasp it myself most of the time.” Brad’s momentary grin fell flat. “I’d never say this to Cassie, but sometimes I wish we could go back to before she got pregnant. Does that make me a lousy husband?”
“No.” Christian bit back a humorless laugh. “A lousy husband would be at the bar every night with the boys, forgetting all about his sick wife. He wouldn’t be trying to make her as comfortable as possible. And let’s not forget about building a nursery for a baby who won’t be here until March.”
Brad’s stress was obvious in his rigid posture. “I have to do something. If I can’t make Cassie feel better, at least I can give this baby a room rivaling Caesar’s Palace. Which, based on what Cassie has planned, isn’t far from the truth.”
Christian buzzed his lips. “Rotten husband.”
A chuckle emerged from Brad’s chest as he snapped Christian in the face with the instructions.
Christian grinned, surprised at how natural it felt to talk about Brad’s current hardship. Just like old times. Almost. “I’m impressed you’re this far along with the nursery as it is. I didn’t finish Isla’s crib until Sabrina was in labor.”
