Sure, he hadn’t recognized me at first, but he was right. I’d been wearing a full face of special effects makeup the night we hooked up.
I tried to ignore the heat in my belly that his insinuation that he’d have no problem recognizing my naked body evoked, but I’d been fighting residuals of desire for the past two days. It irked me to no end. I didn’t want to want Noah Wood, especially not now.
“But they need someone now, and you need to find a job now so you can work enough hours for maternity leave,” Sage pointed out as we drew closer to the toy shop.
She wasn’t wrong, I really did need to find a new job as quickly as possible. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, good. That’s all I’m asking. The resort is renowned for being one of the best local places to work at. High schoolers fight over the summer student positions, and they pay well. Better than Sal’s café,” Sage assured me.
I let out an exasperated huff of breath as I opened the door to the toy shop for us both. My jaw immediately dropped when I took in the shop. It was like a colourful toy eutopia.
The shop lacked the coldness of big box toy stores and instead reminded me of the toy store in A Christmas Story. There was a beautiful Christmas display near the window, with a metal toy train going in circles around what appeared to be a miniature wooden village display of Santa’s workshop.
I’d been very humbug about Christmas before stepping inside, but after spending a few minutes amidst the warm twinkling lights and beautiful holiday displays, I was beginning to feel my Christmas spirit awakening.
I picked out toys for Daphne, and Tabitha and Parker’s three kids with Sage’s help while she did her last-minute shopping. When we checked out, the woman at the cash register asked if we wanted them gift-wrapped. We both said yes, me to save some time, and Sage because she knew Daphne would try and sneak a peek at her shopping bags.
Once the woman wrapped our gifts, she put them in reusable bags to make it easier to carry.
“How do you keep Daphne out of that place?” I asked as we neared the door, my eyes sweeping around for a final look. I was still in awe. They seemed to have everything: all the current popular toys, as well as an entire section of vintage toys. I could spend hours here, happily combing through every single aisle.
“It’s difficult,” Sage admitted with a giggle. “I bring her once a month when she’s saved up enough of her chore money to splurge on a new toy. Or whenever she gets invited to a birthday party, which happens a lot during the school year. School-aged children are always having birthday parties. You’ll see.”
“Right,” I said, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that overcame me at the thought of school years and children’s birthday parties.
In a year’s time, I’d be celebrating my baby’s first Christmas. Absently, my hand went to my still flat stomach through my open winter jacket, suddenly feeling emotional as well as nauseous.
Morning sickness hadn’t exactly reared its ugly head yet, but I’d been doing enough reading on pregnancy to expect that to happen at any moment. I figured it’d happen in the early morning, not midafternoon in the aisle of a toy shop.
“Are you okay?” Sage asked, concerned.
“Yeah, just feeling a bit off,” I admitted.
She looked through her purse, pulling out a candy. “Here, suck on this,” she instructed, handing me the piece of candy.
“That’s how I got into this predicament in the first place,” I teased, my voice as wobbly as my current emotional state. Still, I unwrapped the candy and put it in my mouth. Ginger exploded on my tongue. “Urg, this is disgusting!” I looked around for somewhere to spit it out.
“Keep sucking on it. It’s a ginger candy, it helps with nausea,” Sage insisted.
“Has it been in your purse since Daphne?”
“No,” she said, looking away and strategically avoiding my eyes.
“Why is it so disgusting?” it was all I could do to not spit it out. It required all my will power to keep the damn thing in my mouth.
“Do you still feel nauseous?” Sage asked, looking at me with a knowing smile.
I shook my head, admitting to myself and to her that the disgusting candy really had helped with the nausea.
“See, it works.”
“Fine, it works,” I grumbled. “Probably because it’s so shockingly disgusting, it distracts you from the nausea.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out another handful of the wrapped ginger candies. “Here, put these in your purse. You never know when you’ll need another. They are little life savers.”
“Why do you have a stockpile of them?” I asked, looking at my friend through narrowed eyes. They didn’t seem like the kind of candy one enjoyed having. I couldn’t picture popping these nasty little things in my mouth for enjoyment.
Sage opened her mouth, about to reply, then the bell over the door rang, alerting us to more shoppers coming into the toy shop. Three old ladies strolled in, talking seriously amongst themselves. “Uh oh, incoming: it’s the Hartley triplets,” Sage whispered.
