She smiles awkwardly. “What?”
“Nothing. You’re just really good at this.”
She laughs. “You’re easily impressed.” She glances up at the ceiling, her pretty face hardening. “I assumehe’snot coming?”
“Um, no.” Last time I checked, Sebastian was kneeling by the toilet in his ensuite, throwing up his last eight cups of black coffee. The poor guy could barely hold himself upright, let alone hold a baby.
“He’s busy,” I tell her. “Shall we get going?”
* * *
Beth drives us to a local baby store. Stepping inside is like entering another world. A very loud, brightly lit, painfully colourful world. I blink hard, looking around. There are toys everywhere. Shelves upon shelves of teddy bears and playsets and legos. A child-sized carousel spins and plays music next to the store entrance. Harried-looking mothers push trolleys full of nappies and cots down the aisles. Some of them look too pregnant to stand; others have babies or toddlers sitting in their carts or strapped to their chests like me. The whole place is ringing with children’s cries, and mothers’ sighs, and the annoying sound effects from those weird light-up, battery-operated toys.
“Wow.”
“It’s a lot, right?” Beth asks, sounding completely unfazed. “Clothes are over here.” She leads the way, pushing the trolley. I trail after her, stroking Cami’s back. She wriggles happily against me, staring around at all the bright lights.
“Here we are,” Beth says, stopping at an aisle. “6-12 months. This stuff should fit her.”
I glance at the first rack. My face twists in disgust. “Seriously?”
There are two little t-shirts hanging side by side: a white-and-blue one, with the wordsBOY GENIUSscreen-printed across the front; and a pink one, withI’m Ready For My #Selfieembroidered in silver thread.
Beth snorts. “Oh, yeah. The sexism starts young. Like, wet from the womb young.”
“That’s BS. I’m not dressing my ki… uh, a kid in these.” I move down the aisle, examining the other graphic shirts.I’m a Future Bossfor the boys, andI’m Cutefor the girls.I’m A Superherofor the boys, andBorn to Be Spoiledfor the girls. I look down at Cami. “I’m glad you can’t read.”
She blinks at me, then smiles. My stomach twists.
“You’re getting really het up about this, huh?” Beth asks, flipping through the rack. “I guess I’ve gotten desensitised to it.”
“It just seems wrong. Cami’s already had a harder life than me, and she’s not even one year old yet. I can’t stick her in a shirt that saysSpoiled Princess.” I push aside two more shirts. “Where’s the one that saysI’m a Fu—uh,I’m a Friggin’ Fighter?”
Beth snorts. “You might want to custom order that.” She pulls a onesie out. “What about this?”
I study the romper. It’s made to look like a lion, with a fluffy mane and a little tail poking out the back. It’s absolutely adorable.
“Yes, yes, absolutely.”
We go through the clothes together. It turns out, the animal-themed clothes are generally a lot less sexist, so we mostly stick with those. Before long, the cart is full of shirts, onesies, skirts, and accessories.
“Cyrus is going to kill us,” I note, dropping in a t-shirt covered with bunnies. “He told me last night that jewel tones would best suit her complexion.” His exact words were, ‘don’t you dress my gorgeous half-Desi daughter like a nerdy white guy,’ but I doubt he’ll be thrilled with all the animal print either.
Beth laughs. “Maybe he should wait until she stops puking up her milk before he gets picky about her wardrobe.” She sifts through another shelf. I spot a green t-shirt with an adorable cartoon chameleon printed on the front, and Beth and I reach for it at the same time. Our fingers brush. Sparks flitter down my skin. She looks up at me, her eyes darkening, her mouth softening, and for a second, I’m frozen, rooted to the spot.
I remember when Cyrus, Seb and I started dating our ex-girlfriend Chloe. Back then, I was totally shit at flirting. I never knew when a girl was coming onto me. One day, a few weeks after we made it official with Chloe, she was being pissy with me, and I couldn’t understand why. Cy took me aside and very patiently explained that she wanted me to kiss her, and I kept blowing her off.
She keeps giving you kiss-me eyes,he said.Dude, are you blind?
It took me a while to understand what he meant, but I finally got it. And, unless I’m very much mistaken, Beth is giving me kiss-me eyes.
As I watch, she swallows, her gaze flickering to my mouth for a split second.I feel the pull to touch her like there’s a magnet embedded in my skin. I take a step closer, leaning forward slightly—
She pulls her hand back like I’ve burned her, her cheeks flushing. “That, um, should be enough clothes,” she stammers. “Shall we check out some toys?”
I nod, rubbing the back of my neck.Stupid, Jack. Why the Hell would she want to kiss you? She’s got a bloody boyfriend, for God’s sake.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Lead the way.”