“This is my fiancé,” Neil clarified, with an edge of you’ve-fucked-up in his tone. “My daughter is expecting her first child, and we’re here looking for a gift for the baby.”
“Anything in particular?” she asked smoothly, glossing past her mistake without blinking.
“Is there anything here he hasn’t bought yet?” I snorted.
“Well, feel free to browse. If you need anything—”
“Sasha,” I finished for her. “We got it. This isn’t our first rodeo.”
Her eyebrows ratcheted up about an inch, and she drifted away, probably thinking we’d be her most difficult customers all day.
“Why do you do always have to make people feel uncomfortable?” Neil tried to scold me, but his giggling didn’t make it very convincing.
I cut a wide path around a rack of itsy little dresses. “I have to entertain myself somehow. You should have heard me the other day, I took your accent out for a spin at lunch.”
“I shudder to imagine how ridiculous you must have sounded. Your impersonation of me is terrible.” He paused in front of a swing that looked like it should have been on the space shuttle and gave it a gentle push.
“Remind me what this particular present is for?” I asked as we wandered among the racks of tasteful baby clothes.
“Valerie bought Emma a jogging stroller,” he answered without pretense. The bat
tle to spoil the baby had been on for some time, and what had begun as a friendly rivalry had become a high-stakes war. At my arched eyebrow and pursed lips he said, rather sheepishly, “I’m allowed to buy this baby an outrageous amount of stuff, aren’t I? There hasn’t been one in the Elwood household for twenty-six years. This is exciting.”
I was about to remind him that the baby wasn’t going to be in the Elwood household, but the sight of frills stopped me, and I cooed, “Awww, look at this, Neil.” I took the hanger off the rack and held up the teensy pink floral triangle-top bikini flipping it to show him the ruffle-butt bottoms. I’d expected some disapproval at the thought of his granddaughter in a bikini, no matter her age, but he appeared absolutely horrified. It took me a blink to realize he wasn’t looking at the swimsuit, but over my shoulder. I turned, and behind me stood a woman a few inches taller than me, with golden blonde hair and an expression that matched Neil’s.
No, hers seemed to lean to the nauseated side of horror. Her gaze fell to the baby clothes in my hand, and she choked out an, “Excuse me,” before dropping the bottle warmer she’d been carrying. She ran—literally ran—from the store.
“Elizabeth!” Neil called after her, and he sidled past me to chase her.
I stood there, reeling. That was Elizabeth? His ex-wife, Elizabeth?
His ex-wife Elizabeth whom he’d divorced when she wanted a baby.
And I was here with him, holding baby stuff, while he talked loudly about how excited he was for a new baby.
So. That was awkward.
The women who had been shopping for their crib looked up, startled, then looked back at me. One of them leaned toward the other and whispered something. I didn’t know what she’d said, but I was somehow compelled to blurt, “I’m not his mistress! That’s his ex-wife. They’re divorced.”
At that point, the baby monitor guy and Sasha the saleslady were looking at me. Out the window, Neil reached for Elizabeth’s elbow, and she whirled on him, shouting. I couldn’t hear what.
“They got divorced because she wanted kids and he didn’t, and now, I’m marrying him. She saw me in the baby store, so…” I shrugged. Why was I telling this entire boutique full of people all of my personal business? I was having some weird out-of-body, out-of-mouth experience, probably so I could effectively repress my humiliation later.
“Wait a minute, is that Neil Elwood?” the non-pregnant woman said, and it startled me because I’d never really seen him get recognized before. The woman looked totally thrilled, like she was spotting a celebrity. Then, she said, “I know who you are! I saw your book in O Magazine,” and I realized that the big famous person she thought she was meeting was me. She gestured to my midsection, where I still clutched the baby bikini. “Congratulations!”
“About the book, or…” That wasn’t what she’d been getting at. I whipped the swimsuit behind my back. “Oh, no. No no. I am not pregnant. I mean, thank god. I don’t even like kids.” I made a what-are-you-gonna-do kind of face.
Both women gaped at me in horror, and I decided it was time to go. Outside, Neil had his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders. I pushed the little bikini at the saleswoman. “We’ll just take this, Sasha.”
I handed over my credit card and watched out the window right along with the couple and the guy on the phone. Sasha’s gaze kept flitting that way, too. I mentally urged her along so I could get the hell out of there. When she handed me the bag, my card and my receipt, I made a hasty exit.
On the sidewalk, Neil was hugging Elizabeth. She looked up at me and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I am so embarrassed.”
“Sophie, this is Elizabeth,” Neil said, stepping back to put his arm around my waist. “Elizabeth, this is Sophie.”
“I read your book, Sophie. It was excellent.” She looked up at Neil and nodded, clearly struggling to hold back her tears. “Well, I have to go. It was nice to meet you. And, again, I’m sorry.”
She walked away a few steps, and Neil called out, “Elizabeth.”