He waited until he was next up, then started loading items onto the conveyor belt.
The cashier, a young woman, smiled. “New baby in the house?”
Mitch nodded. “That’s exactly right. My first grandchild.”
“Someone’s gonna be spoiled.”
He grinned. “Yes.”
“Good for you.”
He got to work repacking the cart with the bags. Somehow, it all fit back in. He ran his card through the machine, having spent more money than he thought possible in a Walmart, but pleased with himself. Would Kyle be all right that he’d bought so much?
Mitch hoped so. If he’d gotten something he shouldn’t have or that Kyle didn’t approve of, it could always be returned.
As quickly as he could with the rain drizzling down, he loaded the car, returned his cart, and headed for home. Once he was there, he used the elevator to take everything up. It still required three trips.
Joyce stared open-mouthed at the growing pile of bags and boxes on the couch and living room floor. “Did you leave anything for anyone else?”
“I just got the necessities.”
She snorted. “Did you, now?” She shook her head. “Bless you. You’ve certainly taken to the role of granddad, haven’t you?”
“I guess I have.” He stood back to survey the abundance. The crib would need to be put together. He’d start there.
Joyce came to stand beside him. “Don’t you need to write today?”
“I do, but—”
“Then go write. I can organize all of this. The clothing will all have to be washed. You got the detergent?”
“I did. Organic. Best they had. I should at least put the crib together.”
She smiled. “When Kyle gets up, the two of you can do that together. Better that way.”
“You think?”
She nodded.
“All right. I feel bad leaving this all on you.”
“Go. I’ve got it. I need something to keep me occupied until Beryl gets here. The waiting’ll just make me barmy.”
“How long before she gets here?”
Joyce looked at her watch. “Six more hours.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He kissed her cheek then, smiling, went off to his office.
Concentrating on the story wasn’t easy. All he wanted to do was sit next to the Pack ’n Play and watch Ruthie sleep. This wasthe perfect opportunity to write, though, and he needed to take it.
He tried to let the gentle rain block everything out so he could focus on the action unfolding on the page.
With great effort, he managed to put down two thousand words before he heard crying. He was out of his chair without a second thought. When he came into the living room, Joyce was bouncing Ruthie in one arm while warming up a bottle in the new bottle warmer Mitch had purchased.
“Can I help?” he asked, fully expecting Joyce to say no.
“You want to feed her?”
