Chapter 12 Birdie
BIRDIE
“Mom. Mama.”
I sit up as my bedroom door flies open. Mia launches herself onto my bed, knocking one of my pillows onto the floor. “Whoa, baby. Slow down.”
The sun is barely up, but I know Mia probably didn’t sleep a wink all night.
And not because she’d been having nightmares.
It’s Saturday, and today Mia, Crow, and I are going to that baby shower together.
It’s been a long and winding week, full of stolen kisses, heated texts, and, oddly, a new kind of intimacy forged through routine.
Crow’s been using my car all week, coming by early to pick up Mia to drive her to school.
I tag along, and after, he comes back to my place to work on some kind of project on the house.
In a week’s time, he’s redone my stairs, hung a handrail, and he’s now working on a cosmetic renovation of my powder room.
That toilet and sink are original to the house, and while they both work okay, swapping them out for more efficient appliances and giving the room a little facelift will look great on Crow’s resume.
I’ve been job-hunting and trying to sort out health insurance and doctor visits, all of which is a full-time job in and of itself.
Crow and I agreed to take things slow between us, so the week has been full of touching, kissing, and a lot of taking care of my needs privately after Crow goes home and Mia is in bed, if you know what I mean.
“Mama, we need to make a plan for what we’re going to buy the baby.”
Mia has been dying to go to the store and shop for baby presents, but that’s been another stress on my mind.
Discretionary spending gives me a stomachache.
Alice knows I’ve lost my job, and she’s assured me that Lia and Leo, their friends who are expecting the baby, won’t even notice if I don’t bring anything.
She suggested I bake some cupcakes instead, but after Crow very gently suggested we not bring anything homemade, I got the message.
I’ve never been a good cook or baker, and giving the baby shower guests food poisoning would be worse than showing up empty-handed.
I sit up and tug Mia close. “You can pick out one thing at the store, okay? I don’t want you going bananas, little miss.”
“I promise, no bananas.” She skips off to her room to pick out an outfit while I head downstairs to make coffee.
The last week, my headaches haven’t been anywhere near as frequent as they were before my trip down the stairs.
I don’t want to draw any faulty conclusions.
It’s possible that being happier, even though my stress level is not much lower, is helping dial back the frequency and intensity of the episodes.
But I don’t want to fool myself into thinking a new relationship is the cure.
Stress makes my head worse, but it didn’t create the condition.
I still need to figure out getting in to see people and navigating the maze of insurance questions, especially now that my insurance is set to expire in a couple of days.
But those are worries for tomorrow. Today, I’m going to meet more of Crow’s friends. My little girl is going to play with her new best friend. And maybe, just maybe, this will be the night that Crow sleeps over.
I try not to get ahead of myself, but I shower and shave, pluck and primp every inch of my body. Mia is knocking on the bathroom door before long, asking if she can have a special hairstyle for the baby shower.
By the time we’re both dressed and ready, there’s a knock at the door, and Mia, if possible even more excited than she was when she woke up, flies to answer it.
“Mia. Wait for me,” I remind her.
I check the peephole, and my breath catches when I see Crow standing there. I twist the lock, and Mia yanks open the door.
“Crow,” she greets him and grabs his hand. “Come in. I have a lot of ideas about the baby gift.” She drags him inside, talking a blue streak.
As he walks past me, Crow reaches out a hand to me, and I grab it. We hold hands for a moment, and then, like lovestruck teenagers, giggle and let each other go.
Mia doesn’t know there’s anything going on between Crow and me.
For now, he’s a good friend helping with projects at the house and driving her to school while I’m limiting my time behind the wheel.
I’ve never brought anyone home to meet Mia, so I don’t know exactly how to navigate that terrain.
I’m sure when the time is right, I’ll figure it out, but since it’s early, I figure I can keep this close to my heart, at least as far as my daughter is concerned.
We head out to the store and let Mia run through the infant aisles, making lists in her head of things she’d like to get. I told her she can pick three things, and we’ll choose only one to buy and take to the baby, so she’s very seriously considering what her top three choices are.
Crow and I wander the “boring” aisle, browsing the infant formula and bottles while Mia heads straight for the toys. Once we’re alone, I lean close to his ear.
Crow’s wearing a shirt I’ve never seen him in before.
A blue button-down with a pair of black jeans.
His hair is styled, swept back from his face and held into place with a light gel or something.
His glossy hair is so dark, it suits his nickname perfectly.
I breathe the stronger aroma of aftershave, the now-familiar scents of citrus and wood making my knees weak and my core run lava-hot.
“Hi, sexy.” I lightly kiss his ear, and he shudders visibly. “You look gorgeous today.”
“Woman,” he growls. “This is a place to shop for babies, not to make ’em.”
“Shop for baby stuff,” I tease. I lace my fingers through his, kiss the pretty bird on his hand, and then release him. “I’m looking forward to meeting your friends today,” I tell him. “Will it be a lot of bikers?”
He nods. “I expect the whole crew’ll be there.” He chuckles. “This is definitely not the club parties I expected to come back to.”
He tucks two fingers under my chin and just looks at me when Mia comes running down the aisle. “Mama. Crow. Look.”
I expect Mia to have all three things she wants us to choose from, but to my surprise, she’s only got one thing in her hand.
“This,” she says, thrusting a box at me. “It’s so cute.”
I take the box from her, and as I’m inspecting the contents, it hits me how absolutely perfect this gift really is.
“Honey,” I ask her. “Do you know what this is?”
She nods. “Yeah, of course I do. It’s a giraffe.” She looks up at Crow and smiles. “The baby will have one just like mine.”
The giraffe isn’t exactly like Mia’s. It’s a smaller version, and it’s called a binkie buddy.
The giraffe itself is super soft, and it’s built to connect to a pacifier so the baby can hold on to something while the binkie is in their mouth.
As the infant gets older, the connective strap converts and can clip to a car seat or stroller, even a backpack.
And to my surprise, the gift is even less than I expected to spend.
My heart nearly breaks not only at the fact that I can spend under what I’d budgeted, but that the gift is so perfectly meaningful to us.
I kneel down and look my daughter in the eye. “Honey, this is perfect. This is what you want to get?”
She looks up at Crow and takes the box from me, extending it for him to inspect. “What do you think?” she asks.
He presses his lips together for a moment. “You know what the worst part about being a giraffe is?” he asks.
She shakes her head.
“The sore throats,” he says seriously.
Mia cracks up and turns back to me. “So, can we get it?”
I nod. “Let’s find a card so you can explain why you picked it. That will make the gift even more special.”
She leaves the box with me and darts off to look for a card. She’s already reading at grade level with the kids in second grade, so I leave her to pick out whatever card she wants.
“Seems like you’ve made quite an impression on both of us,” I say quietly.
“I might need to buy Mia a new stuffed animal,” he admits. “There are only so many giraffe jokes on the internet.”
I lace my fingers through his until we’re in sight of Mia. She’s got her face pressed close to the cards to read what they say, but when she sees us approach, she picks one out and we pay for the gift. On the drive to the shower, I let Mia assemble the gift in the gift bag we picked out.
I’m oddly excited to meet Crow’s friends. These people are more his family than his biological relatives, and if Alice and Morris are anything to judge by, I’m going to have a great day.
As soon as we park, Mia takes off running.
“I swear,” I tell him, “my daughter is not normally a roadrunner, racing from A to B.”
He holds the gift bag while I climb out of the car, then he hands the bag to me to carry. “Mind if I add my card to your bag?” he asks. “I got them an, uh, evergreen gift…”
I chuckle and slide his card inside the gift bag just as Zoey runs out to greet Mia. The girls head into the house, and we follow close behind.
The next few minutes are a whirlwind of introductions. Alice greets me first, giving me a huge hug.
“How are you?” she asks. “You look fantastic.” She points to my eyebrow but then looks me over from head to toe. “Poor Crow,” she says, shaking her head. “Or should I say lucky?”
I flush and shake off the compliment. “How are you?” I ask, lowering my voice. “Do you want any help?”
“Nope. Everything here is done. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone. Are you okay with dogs?”
“Do you have dogs? Mia is going to lose it.” The only thing my daughter wants more than siblings and friends is a puppy.
“Not ours,” she explains. “Lia, the mommy-to-be, has a whole pack of them. They’re all very friendly, though.”
I can hear dogs barking outside and Mia squealing, which means she’s already met the pups. Alice leads me into the backyard, where the party is already in full swing. An enormous man is sitting in an Adirondack chair, a beer in his hands.