Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Callie
It’s Foster’s only day off for the next ten days, so after our escapade in the shower, we decide to use the opportunity to go out and shop for the baby and have lunch together.
The moment we step into the baby store, a woman greets us, beaming.
“Oh, we hoped you two would pick our store.” She folds her hands in front of herself.
Foster places his hand on the small of my back, his fingers flexing then relaxing.
One of the things I’ve realized about him is that he hates social media and the insight it gives people into his life. I’ve also realized that he has better restraint than I do when it comes to reading the comments.
“Really?” I ask. Clearly, she knows who we are.
“Yes, and you can rest assured. We take care of all the Grizzly and Falcon families. Even a few of the Trojans, but we’re a little far north for them.” She steps closer.
Foster’s hand does the whole flexing and unflexing thing again, as though he’s going to attack if she comes any closer. I’d never tell him, but I’ve grown to love his protective nature even if it’s only because I’m carrying his baby.
“We’re just browsing today,” I say.
She glances at my stomach. “How many weeks are you now?”
She phrases the question as if she’s been following my pregnancy. Sure, I have a social media presence and have been chronicling the pregnancy a little, but I feel a little creeped out that she phrased it the way she did.
“Eighteen weeks,” Foster answers for me.
“The bigger you get, the more uncomfortable the heat will be for you. I can give you the name of a maternity store that all the WAGs use.”
Foster growls under his breath, but I’m proud of him. At least he’s not just walking away from her.
“And are you going to find out the sex of the baby?” she asks.
Foster’s fingers dig into my side. If I don’t get him out of this situation, grumpy Foster is going to make an appearance.
“Um… we haven’t decided.” I wave my finger in the air. “We’re going to look around, then maybe we can make a date to register.” It must be what she’s looking for, to make sure all of our friends and family come here to buy stuff.
“Yes, of course. Sorry, we’re just so excited to see you.” She smiles.
I’m not sure who we are, since there doesn’t appear to be anyone else here, but I take Foster’s hand and lead him to the opposite side of the store.
“So, this is going to be our life.”
I don’t recognize a lot of the items. The more we look around, the more panicked I become.
“What is this?” I pick up an item by a crib.
“You put that around your head.” Sally, the saleswoman—whose nametag I can read now—puts the contraption on her head. A pole shoots out from the headband with something dangling off of it.
My head tilts. “It’s a wearable mobile?”
She nods, and it bounces.
“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Foster mumbles.
“This way when you’re changing the baby’s diaper, he or she has something to look at.” She demonstrates over a changing table where a plastic baby lies.
“They can’t just be happy looking at Mom or Dad?” Foster looks at the woman as though she’s an idiot.
She takes it off and puts it back on display. “You don’t want the baby to be bored.”
“Boredom never killed anyone.” To his credit, Foster’s voice isn’t the grumpiest I’ve ever heard it.
I smile at Sally. “Thanks for explaining it to us.”
Foster picks up something else and gives me a questioning look.
“It’s a nasal aspirator.” Sally takes it from Foster. “See, you put this in the baby’s nose and then you suck.”
“I what?” Foster palms the back of his neck.
She smiles at him. “You suck, and the boogers come out.”
He looks at me, and I think he might be starting to panic.
“It’s one of our most popular sellers,” Sally assures us.
I pick up a spatula-looking thing. “And this?”
“To spread the diaper cream so you don’t get it on your hands.” She again demonstrates on the doll as if we can’t put two and two together.
“What haven’t they invented?” Foster continues to pick up items and put them down, each one seeming to make him more baffled.
“Thanks, Sally. This is all a lot for first-time parents, but you’ve been more than helpful.” I give her what I hope looks like a sincere smile.
“Of course, I’ll leave you two to it, but just grab me if you need me.” She looks at Foster, and her gaze feels a little covetous to me.
I’m about to growl and show my teeth.
What the hell was that?
Foster is oblivious, hitting a mobile with his finger. “Hey.” He turns to me after Sally leaves us alone. “I don’t want anything baseball.”
I stop, but he continues checking things out, so I follow him. “What?”
“I don’t want any baseball things for the crib or on the walls. Nothing baseball, okay?”
He tries to walk away, so I take his wrist and tug him back to me. “Why?”
He glances toward Sally. Thankfully, the phone rings, and she walks away to answer it. At this point, I don’t even care that she’s probably telling whoever is on the phone that we’re here.
“Because I’m not going to shove anything down my kid’s throat.”
I frown. “But you love baseball, no?”
I don’t have any specific plans on what I want for the baby’s room, but I’m thrown that a major league pitcher doesn’t want anything baseball in his child’s room.
“I do love it, but I didn’t always. And I don’t want him or her to feel like they have to like something just because I do.”
It sounds as though this really matters to Foster, and I figure this is a fight I have no say in, so I nod. “Okay, no baseball. But just so you know, lots of people are probably going to give us baseball-themed gifts.”
He shrugs. “That’s fine. But we won’t buy any.”
This isn’t the place for me to push him to talk about it more, so I let it go. The last thing we need is Sally gossiping to her friends about us any more than she already will.
“What should we buy today? The stroller? Crib? I suppose we’ll need two of everything, but I was thinking—do you think you should stay for a while after the baby is born?
I’ll be in the off season, so we can tackle it together.
” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. “Plus, I might need more lessons.”
I draw back and look up at him. “First of all, I think your lesson days are drawing to a close. And you do know that after this baby comes out, I can’t have sex for at least six weeks, right?”
He looks down between us. “Really? I guess that makes sense. You’re pushing a baby out.”
I shudder. “Don’t remind me.”
I ignore the tug at the back of my mind that says that’s all he really wants from me.
We both look around the store and at one another. “Lunch?” we say at the same time.
Are we ignoring our future, the inevitable? Yeah. We tend to ignore a lot of things that are coming our way. There will be a day I’ll have no choice but to face it, but today isn’t that day.