“Mmm-hmm, whatever.” Her mother adjusted Rylee’s head. “Just keep your head still so I can finish these braids. The last thing we need is you going into labor with a half-finished head.”
That was three days ago, and still no signs of labor for Rylee. Braxton Hicks had just started to happen here and there—like as Rylee stood in one of the aisles in the baby store that evening and as she and Xander made their way to the car—but nothing she wasn’t used to, nothing any different than with LJ or Nova.
“Let me get that bag, Snoop,” Xander insisted, taking quick steps toward Rylee. “Over here struggling.”
“Struggling?” Rylee laughed. “This bag has baby towels, Xander. Stop it.”
“Don’t matter,” Xander said, reaching for the bag. “There’s a lot of baby towels in there. Too many.”
“Trust me,” Rylee debated. “There is no such thing as too many baby towels. You’ll see.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Xander replied. He curled his fingers around the bag’s handles and stepped in front of her, stopping her with the toe of his sneaker just nudging hers. “Give it to me.”
The two had intentionally matched sneakers—Xander’s idea. Whenever they went out to run errands or to hang out just them two, he insisted they wear the same footwear or matching colors.
It was his thing.
And Rylee thought it to be so cute.
For their errand that day, they stopped by a baby store in Brooklyn to pick up some last-minute things. Pacifiers, baby towels, swaddling blankets, and socks. Things they didn’t put on their gift registry—a registry that had been cleared out by their friends and family.
“What you thinking about for food?” Xander asked, taking Rylee’s hand as they walked through the parking lot, headed for his truck. The truck was the most spacious of their vehicles, and as Rylee got bigger in pregnancy, she favored room and either insisted she take his truck or he drive her in it.
“Tacos?” he asked next, as they neared his truck. “We can pick some up, take it back to the house?”
Rylee’s deep dish dimples appeared, highlighting her smile.
“Since the kids are at their grandparents, we can eat them with nothing on in the kitchen,” Xander added, briefly sticking his tongue out. “You know, the way tacos are supposed to be enjoyed.”
Rylee hollered a laugh. “You silly.”
The mention of the kids being away and them having the brownstone all to themselves made her recall the conversation she had with Liz a few weeks prior. The conversation about the house in Greene Gardens. A house Xander had not brought up since showing her a picture of it.
As Xander opened the door, Rylee was struck with a sudden impulsive feeling she was shocked to be feeling in that moment.
But they were alone, it was still a little early in the evening… so why not?
“Can we go somewhere else before we get the tacos?”
Xander held his hand out for her to take so he could help her step up and into the truck. “Sure. Where you tryna go?”
“The house,” she answered. “In Greene Gardens.”
He jerked his head back so hard it could have fallen off if he didn’t have a neck holding it up.
“Here,” she said, smiling. “Close the door and get inside.”
She didn’t have to tell Xander twice. He wore his confusion from the time he closed her door to his walk around the truck to get into his seat on the driver’s side.
The moment he closed the door, and as he placed their shopping bags in the back seat, Rylee turned to face him.
“You came up in my therapy session a few weeks back.”
Xander held her attention but said nothing.
“And… so did the house,” she added. “And Liz suggested I take a trip out there to see what you see.”
“Okay…”
