“I’m sure you would.”
“And I had some explaining to do when Lucy stopped by and saw that big bag of spikey red fruit on my doorstep.”
“Whoops.” I probably should have rung the bell, but I wanted to surprise her. “She didn’t read the note, right?”
“Thankfully, no.” Hazel rolls her eyes. “The charm of your ‘for the fruit of my loins’ missive was mine alone to enjoy.”
“You’re welcome.” I stop to admire a big rack of baby pajamas. “When are you planning to tell them?”
“My cousins? I’m not sure.”
“Fair enough.” She’ll do it when she’s ready, though sooner or later, biology will force her hand. “And your mother?”
“Maybe when I visit her in a couple weeks.”
Gotta admit, it shocked the hell out of me when Hazel informed me she’d decided to visit her mom in Croatia. “We need to meet about plans for a charitable investment in Eastern Europe,” she explained with the warmth of a boulder.
“And hug your mom?” I probed.
“Right.” Nibbling her lip, she glanced away. “We don’t really do that.”
“Hug?”
“She’s never been one for physical displays of affection.” The longing in Hazel’s blue eyes said that wasn’t her choice. “But maybe that can change, now that I’m going to be a mother.”
As we move to the next aisle at Baby Emporium, I try probing gently for more. “Are you excited to see your mom?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been researching opportunities for children’s charities, and it does seem like Romania has the most opportunity.”
“Your mom’s birth country, right?”
“That’s right.” She sounds surprised I remember.
“Molly said it’s okay to fly?”
“Yes. I asked her to join me, just to be safe. We’re taking the company jet.”
“Of course you are.” I almost succeed in keeping the snark from my voice as I reach out and pluck a little white shirt off the rack. “These are cool.”
“Onesies?” Hazel cocks her head.
“Not onesies in general. This one.” I point to the loopy black script that reads, I only cry when ugly people hold me. “That’s funny.”
“That’s mean.”
“Only if you’re ugly.”
Hazel sighs as I put it back on the rack. “I don’t think it’s nice to insult people.”
“Fine. How about this one?”
Her eyes scan the front of the onesie I’m holding. “Remove baby before washing.”
“It’s funny, right?”
She nibbles her lip. “I’d hate for anyone to assume we don’t know?—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I hook the onesie back on the rack. “Pretty sure most people would get the joke.”
