22. Bertie
BERTIE
I knew Rosie probably wouldn’t make it long before she visited, but I certainly didn’t expect her and Daire to roll up the very next morning.
“You needed your car,” she says by way of excuse when I stare at her and her husband open-mouthed. “Plus, I thought you needed a shopping companion. Surely you want to get some things for your new place. Speaking of, show me around.”
Luke watches us, his eyes glimmering with amusement.
When I asked him if he knew about this, after I got Rosie’s text that they were on their way, he insisted he didn’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t talk them into coming just so I wouldn’t have time to feel too alone in this new environment.
Daire, with Sammy in his arms, says to Luke, “Want to introduce me to your new teammate?”
Luke shakes his head and the two of them walk off.
Bouncing on her toes, Rosie says, “Show me the new place.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” I lead her toward the set of stairs outside that go to the apartment.
“I know you probably think I’m insane, but I was so sad last night, and Daire suggested we go ahead and drive your car here and help you get settled. We’ll help unbox anything you need and Daire can help Luke with heavy lifting. I do so love to see his biceps flex.” She laughs.
“You have a wedding right around the corner,” I remind her. “You need to focus on that, not me.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “That’s what the wedding planner is for.”
Opening the door into our space I let Rosie follow in behind me. “Well, this is it.”
It’s a small space, but bigger than I expected.
The kitchen, living, and bedroom area are all connected with only the bathroom closed off.
Everything is done in hues of blue, yellow, and white—colors I would’ve easily picked on my own had I been decorating.
It’s pure luck that Kayla and I apparently share a similar style.
“This is so cute,” Rosie squeals, taking it in. “The couch is adorable.” She plops on the couch that’s only big enough for two—maybe three at the most. She rubs her fingers along the fabric on the arm. “I think this is probably custom for the space.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I agree.
“What are some things you’d like for the space?” she asks. “Maybe a rug?”
“I was thinking about a rug for here and the bedroom area,” I confess. “I thought it might help separate things.”
She stands, assessing the space with her arms crossed over her chest. “We could hang a curtain here too if you wanted more separation—if you’re allowed to.”
“Kayla said I was welcome to do what I wanted with the space, but I don’t want to do anything too permanent.”
Rosie taps her chin. “I have something in mind that I think could work if you’re down for it.”
“I’m cool with whatever.”
“It looks like you need a dresser too,” she muses, and I’m sure she’s making a mental list. “What about towels and stuff? Did you bring anything from Luke’s?”
“No, it’s his mom’s stuff. She told us to take some, but I wasn’t going to do that.”
Rosie hums. “What about art? I like to have art on the walls, but maybe that’s not important to you.”
I look around. “Art would be good.”
“All right.” She nods, still looking around and taking everything in. “Is there anything else you need for baby boy?”
“I think we’re all covered there.”
“Perfect.” She claps her hands together. “There’s enough room outside on the little deck before you come in for a table, is that something you’d like?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Yanking her keys from her pocket, she says, “Let’s go shopping.”
I’m not sure the At Home store knows what to do with Hurricane Rosie hitting it. I basically follow along beside her and let her pile things into the cart. Most of it is far from necessity items, but after all, it’s the small décor pieces that start to make a place feel like a home.
“Here,” she says suddenly, stepping away from the cart. “I need to get another cart.”
“Another?” I sputter.
“Yep,” she says, already ten feet away from me. “Be right back.” She returns a few minutes later with a few items already thrown into the new cart.
“Is this really necessary?”
“We haven’t even made it to the linens yet,” she says defensively. “So, yes, it’s necessary.”
We stop at the blankets next, and I find one in my favorite shade of pastel yellow and add it to the ever-growing pile.
“I wanted to get some new bed things,” I admit when we reach that section of the store. “What Kayla has is beautiful, but I’d prefer to get something that’s ours, especially with the baby coming.”
Last night I couldn’t help feeling horror at the idea of the baby throwing up or having a blowout all over the white duvet.
“Well, let’s see what they have,” Rosie says, using her shopping cart to all but shove a woman out of her way.
“Rosie,” I scold when we’re out of ear shot.
She looks over her shoulder. “What?” She bats her eyes innocently. “I didn’t do a thing.”
“You know exactly what you did.”
“Well, she should’ve moved when I politely cleared my throat the second time.” She gives an unbothered shrug and brings the cart to a stop in front of a line of comforters and quilts. “See anything you like?” She gestures and I pause beside her to look at them.
The options are plentiful, which makes it a little daunting.
I pluck a light blue comforter off the shelf. “This one.”
“Excellent choice.” She nods her approval. “Sheets?”
“Yeah. I’d like to get two sets so if something happens to one, I have a backup.”
She snaps her fingers. “Good idea, especially with a baby. You might even want three sets.”
I hesitate as we start down the aisle. “You think?”
“It can’t hurt.”
I peruse the aisle, choosing a linen color, a pastel yellow set, and the final a blue and white stripes option that matches the décor already in the apartment. I hope I’m not going overboard but with a baby I think it makes the most sense to be prepared.
After picking out bathroom linens, we make our way to the furniture and find a dresser. I’m not being too picky with my choices, because I figure this place isn’t our forever home.
Our? My conscience taunts me and I bat the innocent thought away. We are having a baby together; it only makes sense to think of us as a collective unit. It doesn’t mean I’m writing our happily ever after and riding off into the sunset with him.
“What are you thinking about?” Rosie prompts as we get into the checkout line. “You seem lost in thought.”
“Just thinking about getting everything ready.”
“Don’t worry.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Daire and I will leave you guys in tip top shape.”
Rosie wasn’t kidding. The two of them stay much later than I expected. Daire helps Luke with assembling things for the baby like the stroller and bouncer and Rosie helps me launder all the new linens and change out the sheets on the bed, as well as unboxing our things.
We haven’t gotten a crib yet, because it was the one thing I insisted I wanted to choose and purchase.
Everything else I wasn’t picky about. And it’s not even that I’m picky about this, I just selfishly want to choose the crib my baby is going to sleep in.
We did receive a co-sleeper to set beside the bed from our baby shower, and I have a feeling that will come in quite handy during late nights with a newborn, especially when Luke is out of town.
My stomach roils at the thought of being left alone with a crying newborn while he’s away at games. I wish I had more experience with children, but I also know there’s nothing that can truly prepare you for your own.
“Did you have fun today?” Luke asks, putting dishes in the dishwasher after we’ve said our goodbyes to our friends.
“I did. I didn’t expect them to show up this soon.”
He laughs. “I did. Rosie looked way too sad over you leaving. Granted, I thought she might make it longer than a day—I figured by another week she’d be visiting.”
“She’s a good friend.” I stifle a yawn. It’s not even that late, not quite nine o’ clock yet, but exhaustion is settling into my bones. I’m finding that pregnant tired is its own beast.
“I’m glad you have someone like her.” He hesitates and I get the sense that there’s more he wants to say.
“What is it?” I prompt.
“Have you heard from your parents at all?”
“No.” I don’t sound nearly as sad over that answer as I expected to with that answer. “I think they’re in Japan right now.”
Luke doesn’t bother hiding the disgust on his face. “They don’t deserve you. I hope you know that.”
I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with ice and water. The kitchen is small enough that I bump into Luke when I stumble slightly in my socked feet. He grasps my hip, steadying me. I look up at him, finding the air caught in my lungs.
Both of us stand like that, frozen. He moves first, taking the glass from my fingers and putting it on the counter.
“Bertie.” He rests both hands on my hips, his thumbs circling the bare skin of my bump where my tank has ridden up.
“Y-Yes?” I stutter.
His tongue slides out just slightly. “I know this might not make any sense right now, but I really want to kiss you.” He brings one hand to my cheek, gently grazing the backs of his fingers against my sensitive skin.
I bite my lip, willing a strength into my voice I don’t actually feel. “Then why don’t you?”
“Because I’m not sure that’s what you want.
” His eyes search mine. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want.
” He gently raises my chin when I duck my head.
“I want you, Bertie. Ever since the moment I first laid eyes on you years ago, I fell for you. I know it sounds insane, but it’s true.
I’m willing to wait however long it takes if you think you might want me too. ”
My bottom lip wobbles. “I’m scared.”
He traces that quivering lip with a steady finger. “We can be scared together.”
My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he echoes, lowering his head. His forehead brushes mine and I shiver.
“I think I’d be okay if you kissed me.”
He smiles. “Are you sure?”
I don’t answer him with words, standing on my tiptoes I press my mouth to his and practically melt into him. His arms wrap around me like he wants to pull me as close as possible, but it’s difficult with my belly in the way.
My heart races as he kisses me.
It’s a good kiss.
A damn good kiss.
I don’t know how long we stand there in the kitchenette kissing, but eventually he pulls away and traces his thumb over my mouth. His lips are slightly swollen.
“It’s all going to be okay.”
I choose to believe him.