Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
T he bright fluorescent lights of the grocery store hummed overhead as Bunny pushed the cart down the baby aisle. The car seat, thankfully sturdy and well-padded, was perched snugly in the front of the buggy. The baby inside cooed softly, as if completely unaware of the chaos surrounding his arrival.
Teddy trailed behind her, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his eyes darting between Bunny and the shelves like he was watching some strange, unfathomable sport.
“Do babies really need all this stuff?” He gestured vaguely at the wall of pacifiers, bottles, and bibs.
Bunny didn’t bother looking at him as she grabbed a box of diapers and dropped it into the cart with a thud. “Yes, Teddy. Babies need all this stuff. You think they just come pre-installed with survival skills?”
He scratched the back of his neck, his expression sheepish. “Well, no, but… do they really need five different kinds of bottles? And what even is that?”
“It’s a bottle drying rack.” Bunny picked up a pack of wipes and added it to the growing pile. “And yes, they need different bottles because not every baby likes the same one. You gotta test the nipples.”
"Nipples?"
"Don't be a child. Or a pervert."
“I'm just shocked babies don't come with a manual, but they're born with nipple preferences.”
“Babies are tiny humans. They’re allowed to have opinions.”
Teddy muttered something under his breath. Bunny ignored him. The baby gurgled.
Bunny reached for a pack of onesies, noting the soft fabric and practical snaps. The fact that the baby’s mother had left him in a well-cared-for car seat lingered in her mind, a small but telling clue. This wasn’t someone who didn’t care—this was someone desperate. And for some reason, they’d decided Teddy was their best solution.
She glanced at him, standing there like a lost puppy among shelves of pastel-colored chaos. “Why would someone leave a baby with you? What about you screams ‘reliable parent material’?”
"You're no longer pulling your punches, are you? What made you dislike me so much? Is it because I missed today's speech?"
"You constantly go off-script."
"Because I read the room. If they're not into what I'm saying, I have to pivot."
"But then you forget to mention certainly policy pieces or details that are important."
"People will forget the policy. They'll always remember how you made them feel."
She rolled her eyes. "You're still not always the most reliable."
“I'm reliable when and where it counts. People trusted me enough to elect me mayor.”
Bunny thought of the donor who had been interested in backing Grant and was now looking at her. Not everyone thought Teddy was reliable or responsible.
The baby started to fuss again, his tiny face scrunching up as a wobbly cry escaped his lips. Teddy, looking slightly panicked, jostled the car seat in an attempt to soothe him, rocking it back and forth with the same enthusiasm he used to hype up kids before a basketball game.
"Hey, little guy," Teddy cooed awkwardly, his deep voice entirely unsuited for baby talk. "No need to cry. We got you. You’re good. Right?"
The baby did not agree. His cries only grew louder, his tiny fists flailing.
Bunny stepped in with the air of someone who had handled a thousand meltdowns before breakfast. She unbuckled the baby and lifted him into her arms, cradling him against her chest.
Instant silence.
The baby nestled into Bunny as if he had known her forever, his tiny fingers curling into the fabric of her coat. Bunny swayed, patting the baby’s back in a slow, soothing rhythm.
"Huh. Well, that’s just great. I can handle a gym full of rowdy teenagers, but one tiny baby wipes the floor with me."
"That’s because babies need comfort, not pep talks. You can’t treat him like he’s about to take a free throw."
“You’re a natural.”
That sounded like true admiration, not teasing or mockery. Teddy wasn’t smirking or flashing that mischievous, too-charming-for-his-own-good smile. His gaze was warm, steady—like he was seeing something in her that she wasn’t used to people noticing.
Her sisters expected her to do things for them. She assumed Teddy was the same. But he looked at her with… was that appreciation and gratitude?
No, it couldn't be. It was the lopsided grin. The same one she’d watched countless women sigh over. She’d seen them lean in, flip their hair, and trail their fingers along his arm, angling for his attention. It usually worked. Teddy Carter was the town’s golden boy, and people loved basking in his glow.
But now, standing here in the middle of the baby aisle with a pack of diapers under his arm and a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, Bunny realized something: She’d never actually seen him take any of those women home.
Oh, she’d seen them slip their numbers into his hand. Cards scribbled with names and winks, sometimes even with little hearts doodled on the back. But Teddy never pocketed them. He’d always handed them off to Frank or left them behind—on the table, on the podium, forgotten, like they meant nothing.
Now that she thought about it, she had never seen Teddy with a date. Never once.
Bunny adjusted the baby in her arms, feeling the steady warmth of the tiny body curled against her. Teddy was still watching her, that grin of his softening at the edges.
What were they talking about? He'd called her a natural.
“Someone has to be,” Bunny replied. “You can’t even tell the difference between formula and milk.”
“I’m learning. Babies aren't easy for everyone, you know.”
“Neither is parenting." Bunny snorted, turning her attention to the baby, who grinned a gummy smile up at her. "But I'm here now. We'll figure it out.”
Just as Teddy opened his mouth to respond, Mrs. Hargrove—the local gossip—appeared at the end of the aisle, holding a box of teething biscuits. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene: Bunny holding the baby with practiced ease, Teddy carrying baby supplies, and their exchanged words about "parenting" and "figuring it out."
“Oh my stars,” Mrs. Hargrove gasped, clutching the box of biscuits to her chest. “You two… Why, I had no idea you were”—she lowered her voice conspiratorially—“starting a family.”
Bunny’s eyes widened. “Wait, no?—”
“It’s not like that,” Teddy interjected, stepping forward.
But Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t listening. Her eyes glimmered with excitement as she nodded knowingly. “And Bunny, you carried so well. I never would have thought.”
Bunny hadn't gained any weight. Had she? She suddenly had the urge to find a mirror.
Before either of them could clarify, Mrs. Hargrove was already walking briskly toward the checkout, muttering, “Wait till the girls at the book club hear about this.”
Bunny turned to Teddy, her jaw tight. “She's going to spread that rumor like butter on dry toast.”
"No one will believe her. No one will believe that we made this child together."
"Why not?"
Teddy held up his hand next to Bunny's, where she was patting the baby on the back. Her pale brown skin stood in contrast to his deep chocolate brown, and then next to the baby's milky white complexion.
"We don't match, for one."
"You know my dad was Asian. This baby could pass for my nephew if not my own kid."
"Oh? Well, congrats, then. Looks like we’ve got a new title: the town’s favorite scandal.”