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Chapter 9
The smell of cheap cinnamon air freshener and sterile hospital junk floats through the tiny waiting room at the local ob-gyn office. My foot taps repeatedly against the potted plant next to me as I flip through pages of a worn parenting magazine, wondering if I have what it takes to be an awesome aunt to my future niece or nephew.
Miranda had allowed me to join her in the examination room for about two seconds until the nurse told her to remove everything from the waist down. Then, with a balk and a freaked-out teenage squeal, she told me to leave and wait for her out here. I’m sure she’s fine but I can’t stop worrying about her.
And that says a lot because as of a couple weeks ago, I didn’t worry about anyone but myself.
The idea of having a baby in the house—a real living, breathing dependent child that counts on her and I to provide happiness and safety—is starting to become my sole reason for existing. I’m not exactly doing anything with my life right now and boredom has driven me all but completely insane lately. Maybe this kid will help fix a piece of my life that I didn’t know was broken.
I tell her this when her appointment is over and we’re heading back to my car with bags of free coupons and formula and other baby crap the doctor gave her. She snorts and climbs into the passenger side of the car.
“I love you Aunt Robin, but you’re dumb.”
“How am I dumb?”
She shrugs and flips through the contents of a white envelope she’s been holding since she found me in the waiting room. “My illegitimate bastard baby wasn’t placed in my womb to fix your life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re letting me live with you and that you want to help me with the baby, but you can’t keep ignoring your own life.”
“Maybe this can be my life,” I say encouragingly. “You need to get your GED and go to college and figure out your future. I’m free to do anything for the next couple of years so I’m the perfect caretaker for your little bastard.” I say the last word lovingly and reach over and pat her stomach, pulling back in surprise. “Holy crap, your stomach is rock hard!”
She rolls her eyes. “Well duh. There’s a baby in there. I’m not just a fatass.”
“Wow,” I say under my breath. “I know absolutely nothing about babi
es.”
“And you never will if you don’t step off your stubborn horse of stubbornness and get out there and find a man. I’m glad that you’re going to help me with the baby but you have to live your life too.” Her eyes narrow seductively and she adds, “And by ‘find a man’ I mean Tyler. You should date Tyler.”
We’re stopped at a red light so I take the opportunity to cross my arms over my chest in pretend indignation. “I’m perfectly fine living on my stubborn horse of stubbornness, thank you very much. I have no interest in dating Tyler, or anyone else. Men are stupid.”
“So much stubbornness,” she says under her breath as she pulls something from the envelope and holds it up for me to see. A long strip of paper with blurry ultrasound pictures folds out from under her fingers. “Say hello to your nephew.”
Chapter 10
“What about something short and cute like Max or Ian?”
Miranda shakes her head. “I had a dog named Max when I was a kid. I can’t name my child after a dog.”
We’re almost back to Salt Gap and we’ve been thinking of baby names ever since we left the doctor’s office. Well, I’ve been thinking of baby names…Miranda has been shaking her head or making gagging noises at every one of my suggestions. “You’re going to have to name that baby eventually,” I say.
She looks at her little bulge of a stomach and pokes at it with her index finger. “It’s weird that we’re talking about this thing like it’s a real baby now. I mean, it’s one thing to talk about being knocked up, but I just got hit with the realization that I’m not just pregnant…there’s a kid inside of me.”
I focus on the road ahead of me and imagine what it’ll be like to have a crying baby in the backseat of my car in a few months. To have someone completely dependent on us for his survival. It’s a surreal thought. I’m not even sure if I’ve ever imagined having kids of my own. Life is so much easier when you only have to worry about yourself.
“Hey look, it’s a baby store,” Miranda says with a tap to her passenger window. A small shopping center is next to the last gas station before our exit for Salt Gap. Sure enough, next to the Cash for Gold and AT&T store is a storefront with zebra print decorations painted on the windows.
“Boutique Baby.” I read the Comic Sans font of the store’s name aloud.
Miranda blows a raspberry with her tongue. “Sounds expensive.”
“Sounds fun,” I say as I turn into the parking lot.
Miranda sits straighter and gives me a quizzical look. “I don’t have much money saved up. There’s no reason to stop.”
I put the car in park and open my door, slinging my purse around my shoulder. “Feel free to stay here then,” I say with a cocky smile. “I have a nephew to shop for.”
The door jingles with a dozen pink and blue bells hanging off the handle as I step inside of Boutique Baby with Miranda excitedly rushing in on my heels. A country station plays on the radio, loud enough for us to browse the store without feeling like we’re being watched. We aren’t really being watched though; the teenager behind the cash register hasn’t looked up from her cell phone since we arrived. Miranda and I browse racks of baby clothes, bypassing all the fluffy tulle skirts and rhinestone onesies for the less flashy boys’ section.
Miranda frowns as she holds up a long-sleeved baby outfit that looks like a baseball jersey. “I’m supposed to have, like, a theme or something right?” She puts back the baseball outfit and grabs a construction worker one and then one with jungle animals on it. “I don’t know what my theme should be.”
