Luke grins again and beeps his horn twice.
Want one? I mouth, plucking one round, furry fruit from the bag. I wave it around so he sees it.
He shudders dramatically, shaking his head. All you, he mouths back as he points at me. Enjoy.
And I do. Oh my God, how I do.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I devour one rambutan after another. Why on earth am I crying? I don’t have a clue, but I’m suddenly overflowing with emotion—gratitude, hunger, frustration, and pregnancy hormones.
Through it all, Luke sits in silence behind me, patiently watching me gobble his gift.
Chapter 6
Luke
“We definitely need these.” Reaching past Hazel, I pluck a colorful set of fat plastic keys off a rack. “Two sets or one?”
Frowning, she consults the list on her phone. “Dr. Moses says we’ll need lots of freezable teethers like that.”
“You know you can say ‘my friend, Molly.’” I toss two of the key rings into our cart. “Or just Molly will work. I’m aware she’s a doctor.”
“Right.” She doesn’t look up from her phone. Just scrolls like a woman determined to perfectly execute every task on our baby-fueled shopping trip. “They could begin teething as soon as four months.”
“Remind me to watch out for fangs.”
“Like you’re the one who’d have to worry.”
I open my mouth to ask if she plans to breastfeed our babies. Then I stop because maybe that’s crossing the line.
We’ve developed a cool sort of friendship since our unfortunate meet-up at the penitentiary. Platonic co-parenting, nothing more.
To be honest, I’m just glad she’s letting me be here to help stock the nursery. I’m determined to prove I can be a good dad, which is why I insisted on driving us here to Baby Emporium in Portland.
Hazel insisted right back on paying for everything.
“I have expensive taste,” she informed me last night when I called to nail down the plan for today. “And I’m outfitting my nursery with the best of everything.”
“Gotcha.” I tried not to be bummed that we’ll have two different nurseries. We’re raising our girls in two homes, so I’d better get used to it.
And at least I can show her I’m a good sport with shopping. Pausing in front of a shelf, I point to a bright row of boxes. “Does the list say we need any—” I stop short and stare at the label. “Knee pads?”
“Yes. Knee rests and elbow rests, too.” She reaches across me to grab one of each.
“Uh, isn’t that more of a precursor to conception?”
“If somebody’s down on their knees, that’s not how conception occurs.”
I bark out a laugh. “Good point. Seriously though, what are those for?”
“Bathtime. When we reach the stage of bathing them in a regular tub, this saves our elbows and knees.”
“They think of everything, huh?” And I’m thinking again how most of these milestones will happen at Hazel’s. I’m planning to put a nursery in my own second bedroom, but who am I kidding? There’s no way it could possibly be as grand as what she can afford.
“By the way,” Hazel says, interrupting my gloomy train of thought. “Thank you for the rambutan delivery.”
“The one in your car or the one on your porch?”
“Both.” She gives me a look. “I’d still like to know how you managed to pick the lock on my Mercedes.”
