“Don’t touch it,” she admonished. “You’ll make it worse.”
“How are you this morning?” he asked, peering at her through his one good eye.
“Fine. I have a huge bruise on my chest from the airbag, and the entire area is a bit tender, but it’s nothing serious.” It actually hurt more than she was letting on because of her already sensitive breasts, but there was no point in complaining since there wasn’t any pain medication she’d feel comfortable taking anyway.
Dante poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table opposite Cleo, who was having a bowl of cereal.
“You’re not eating?” she asked, and he made a face and shook his head.
“Do you want to do something today?”
“Something like what?” Cleo asked in confusion, and Dante shrugged, looking a little discomfited.
“I was thinking we’re heading into week twenty, and Baby’s about the length of a banana, so we should probably call her Nan this week.” The baby had been Tom last week because he’d been about the size of an heirloom tomato. It was a silly game that had evolved between them when they’d discovered a fruit-and-vegetable-comparative-size chart to go along with their weekly growth updates. She’d been Pepper at week eighteen, when they’d first started this game. “I thought we could go do some shopping for her room.”
“But we don’t even know how big the room will be,” Cleo said, and Dante’s face became an expressionless mask.
“Cleo, you can’t mean to move out as soon as she’s born? You’ll need help during those first few months.”
“Months?” she squeaked. “You expect me to stay here for months after she’s born? Dante, no. You said you’d help us find a place to stay; it’s in the contract, and that’s what I’m expecting from you.”
“I’ll get Mrs. Clarke started on the search for a place first thing in the morning,” he said after a long silence, and her shoulders slumped in relief. She shoved her half-eaten cereal aside.
“It’s Mrs. Whitman now,” she reminded him.
“Yes. I’d forgotten.” He stared down into his cup of coffee as if it held the key to unlocking all the secrets in the universe.
“We could go window shopping,” he suggested. “And maybe get a basic idea of the stuff you’d need for Nan’s nursery.”
“Why are you so keen on doing this?” she asked, and he lifted and dropped his shoulders again.
“Maybe I want to feel involved,” he said. “Or maybe I’m just bored and want to get out of here today. This seems to be the most productive thing to do, and it is an activity that would interest both of us.”
His answer surprised her.
“You would find shopping for baby stuff interesting?”
“I’ve never bought baby things before. It would be educational, at the very least.”
Cleo considered his words; she did need some new clothes, since her skirts and trousers were getting too tight in the waist. She’d been thinking of getting a few maternity dresses. But she didn’t want them to be obviously maternity dresses. She always imagined awful, frumpy, tentlike frocks whenever she thought of maternity wear, and those were so not her style. She was hoping to find some fun, loose tops and dresses and drawstring trousers and skirts, which her changing body could grow into.
“Okay,” she said. “If you’re sure you’re up to it, I wouldn’t mind going out. I need some stuff anyway.”
Their first stop was a large high-end baby store in Green Point, and the moment she set foot inside, Cleo was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tastefully displayed products. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected from a baby shop. Discreet and soothing tunes played in the background, and the place smelled like expensive wood. There were no price tags in sight, which made Cleo nervous. They were approached by several salespersons, all of whom homed in on Cleo and Dante like sharks smelling fresh blood, and Cleo felt a little intimidated by the predatory gleam in their eyes. A woman about two years younger than Cleo reached them first, and her colleagues backed off and disappeared into the woodwork, like wraiths. The saleswoman turned a hundred-watt smile onto her potential new clients.
“Good morning, ma’am, sir . . . I’m Kate. May I be of assistance?” Cleo peered at Dante, who—with his arms folded across his chest—seemed to be waiting for her to say something. Cleo was tempted to turn down Kate’s offer, but another look around the bewildering array of baby paraphernalia and Dante’s impassive face changed her mind for her.
“I need . . . well, everything,” she said helplessly. She felt a little inadequate when she acknowledged to herself that she wasn’t certain exactly what babies needed, aside from love, care, food, and clothing. As she watched Kate’s smile transform from a hundred watts to a hundred thousand megawatts, Cleo realized it was the worst reply she could have given.
“Well, then,” Kate said smugly, “you’ve come to the right place, because we have everything.” She lowered her eyes to Cleo’s barely protruding stomach, and her smile turned simpering. “Your first?” Cleo nodded, and Kate’s smile became beatific. She certainly had an amazing variety of smiles.
“How far along are you?”
“Just on five months,” Cleo replied.
“Babies are wonderful, aren’t they?” Kate gushed. “So full of life.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Cleo’s response was dry. “I don’t have a baby yet.”
Dante made a little choking sound that Cleo was coming to recognize as his attempt at disguising a laugh. Another quick look in his direction confirmed that his lips had tilted upward, even while he kept his gaze firmly averted from Cleo’s. Kate’s smile faded somewhat; she clearly did not like having the obvious pointed out to her.
“Of course.” The woman nodded before going into full-on sales mode. “Well, the best place to start would be with a crib. If you’ll follow me, we have a fantastic variety, which I am sure you’ll adore! Everything we have here is for display purposes, and your crib will be built to order, so we can change aspects of any design if you’re not happy with something. We could even custom-build one for you based on a design you have in mind. So it’s a good thing you came to us this early, because it takes time to make, especially if you’re purchasing matching furniture, which will also have to be built to order.”
Kate led them to the cribs in the back, and even to Cleo’s untrained eye, she could tell that everything was ridiculously expensive. While Kate was lauding the merits of one of the beautiful cribs, Cleo gravitated toward a smaller, less conspicuous one tucked away in the back. While not as beautiful as the rest, it definitely looked less pricey.
“This one looks okay,” she said, running her hands over the plain, unadorned surface of the crib. Actually this plain, boxy little thing was not something she had ever pictured her baby in, but if she wasn’t going to feel beholden to Dante for the rest of her life, instinct told her this was the one to take.
“I rather like this one.” Dante spoke for the first time since they’d entered the store, and both women looked at him in surprise. He was standing beside a crib smaller than the one Kate was gushing over but bigger than the one Cleo had been eyeing.
Truth be told, it was perfect—not too small and not too ostentatious either. She knew what he was doing; he was trying to help, without flaunting his obvious ability to buy the most expensive and best. He was allowing her some measure of pride and independence, and she was grateful to him for that. But a cynical part of her brain hissed that if he didn’t want to flaunt his ability to buy the most expensive, then maybe he shouldn’t have brought her to this snooty upmarket store.
She walked over to the crib while he examined its lines and tested its durability with a keen masculine eye. He asked Kate about the toxicity of the varnish they used and other technical questions that wouldn’t have occurred to Cleo. The girl’s answers seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded approvingly with each of her replies before turning back to Cleo.
“It’s sturdy,” he informed her quietly before testing the catches. “And the rail isn’t likely to come down accidentally. The baby should be safe in here.”
“Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully, pretending to consider, even though he’d sold her on it already. “It’s pretty too. I love the little pixies and fairies carved into the head- and footboards, as well as the mobile.” She touched the colourful mobile, which swayed at her touch. The mobile consisted of winged fairies and cavorting pixies and elves.
“I like this one,” she told Kate, who jumped to attention and enthused over their “wise choice.”
“This particular model comes in teak, oak, and pine. Obviously the price varies according to the wood you choose. Which would you prefer?”
Cleo considered the choices, while Kate pulled out a catalog to show her the difference in the wood.
“Teak.” She ran her finger over the carvings in the headboard of the crib and thought of her own bed. She liked the idea of them matching, and she pictured Nan sleeping contentedly in this crib and smiled. Kate practically vibrated with excitement as she wrote down the details of the order and then took them toward the changing tables.