“Should be easy enough,” he says, flipping the pages. I get started on the crib. “Where is Collins anyway?”
“She said she had to go run errands. I didn’t tell her what we were getting or that it was arriving today.”
“She didn’t choose this stuff?” He starts sliding out boards, organizing them in stacks.
“No, I wanted to surprise her.”
“You wanted to surprise her by choosing the nursery?” he asks, balking at me. “Dude, are you insane? That’s like, like picking out her wedding dress.”
“It is not.” I roll my eyes, and now I have to wonder if he’s got a point. “I told her I was getting something for the baby.”
“Yes, but did she say, ‘Hey, you should get the crib’?”
“No, she said she already bought a bassinet, and . . .” I trail off. “Well, she did ask where we should keep the clothes, but maybe . . .”
“He’s getting this now, that he fucked up.” Caleb laughs. “Good news is, it’s here, and we’ll have it done in no time.”
“Why didn’t she talk to me about a crib and stuff?” I ask nervously.
“Maybe she thought you didn’t want it in the house.”
I scoff at him. “Why would I not want it in the house? We had the baby shower, and we got all the other things.”
“Yeah, but the nursery set—I don’t know—it’s sort of a big deal.” He’s already put together the frame on the dresser and slides the first drawer in before starting on the next one. “Maybe I’m wrong.” He takes his phone from his back pocket. “I’m calling Sierra,” he informs me right before she answers. “Hey, baby,” he says with a smile, “quick question for you.”
“Great,” she retorts on speakerphone, sounding annoyed, “I love this part of the day.”
“On a scale from one to ten, how pissed would you be if I chose our baby’s furniture without you?” She immediately starts laughing. “That’s not even an answer.”
“Minus,” she snaps. “Whatever it is, it would be minus a thousand.”
“Thought so.” There’s too much glee in his voice. “Theo?—”
“He didn’t!” she gasps.
“It’s a surprise,” I defend myself as I hear the front door open.
“Hey,” Collins calls, “we’re home.”
“Caleb,” Sierra whispers, “run!”
He disconnects the call and looks around. “Can I make it out the window? It’s not that high.” The contemplation is written all over his face. His eyes are moving from the door to the window and back again.
“Hello?” Collins says from the kitchen.
“In here,” I answer, and Caleb’s eyes go big.
“I’m going to hide in the closet.” He opens the doors, but there is so much clothing in there that he won’t fit. “This kid has more clothes than I do.” He looks left and right.
“Hello.” Our heads swivel toward the door, where Collins stands, wearing a pair of yoga pants and one of my big T-shirts. It’s the only thing she wears these days. She rubs her belly as she looks at the dresser, and then her eyes go to the crib.
“What is all this?” She walks into the room.
“I’m going to go,” Caleb announces, kissing her cheek as he slips past. “You look like you’re going to pop any minute now.”
“Thanks,” Collins mutters, “you are the fourth person to tell me that today.”
“Well, I’ll let myself out.”
