The next morning, I knock on Beth’s door at nine AM exactly, feeling very proud of myself.
It’s been a hectic few hours. I woke up at six to feed Cami, then washed her, dressed her, tried to change her nappy, ended up getting poop everywhere, washed her and dressed her again, fed her the rest of her bottle, and narrowly avoided getting thrown up on. Then I tried to work out the pushchair that Sebastian bought yesterday. It’s weirdly confusing. There are a bunch of buttons and screws, and the seat is reversible, so I couldn’t work out whether to have it facing towards or away from me.
When I finally got it assembled, I popped Cami inside, then realised I couldn’t fit it through the doors of our tiny lift. I ended up using a baby sling to strap Cami to my chest and pushing the empty pram down the stairs to Beth’s floor.
It may have taken me almost three hours, but I did it. And now Cami is clean, dressed in her very last babygrow, and strapped happily to my chest, kicking her little legs like a frog. I squeeze her foot as I hear the bolt unlock, and Beth opens her door.
Heat rushes to my cheeks when I see her. She’s dressed casually, in a pair of jeans that cling to her hips and a tight pink shirt. Her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks gorgeous.
“Ready to go?” I ask brightly.
She nods, bending to kiss Cami’s head. I try to ignore the fact that her lips are inches away from my chest. “Hey, chameleon,” she murmurs. “You have a good sleep?”
Cami smiles at her, gurgling, and kicks her legs even harder.
Beth glances up at me. Her hair brushes my arm, and I swallow. “She likes this carrier, huh?”
I nod. “I tried putting her in the pushchair, but it was a nightmare getting it into the lift. And I think she likes being held like this.” I glance behind her into her dark room. “Mind if I shove the pram in here and grab it when we get back?”
Beth shakes her head. “We’d better take it with us.”
“I don’t mind carrying her the whole morning.”
“You won’t be saying that when she pukes down your chest.” She steps past me and picks up the pushchair, easily collapsing it and hooking it under her arm. I stare. I didn’t even know it did that.
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 assume he’s not 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 words BOY GENIUS screen-printed across the front; and a pink one, with I’m Ready For My #Selfie embroidered 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 Boss for the boys, and I’m Cute for the girls. I’m A Superhero for the boys, and Born to Be Spoiled for 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 says Spoiled Princess.” I push aside two more shirts. “Where’s the one that says I’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.”
It takes a couple of hours, but we finally make it to the checkout. Beth helps unload all of the items onto the conveyor belt. I can’t bend over with Cami strapped to me, so I take her to a nearby rack of baby toys to distract her, running my eyes over all the stuffed animals. I want to get her something to cuddle. I got pretty jealous when I saw her snuggling up to Cyrus’s bunny last night.
“Let’s see,” I say quietly, sifting through the plushies. “Cy’s already got you a rabbit, so they’re out. Teddies are boring.” I spot a toy lion wedged right at the back of the shelf and pull it out, examining it. It’s squishy and soft, with a fluffy yellow mane. I hand it to Cami. “What do you think? Strong and brave, just like you.”
She grabs it and puts its tail in her mouth.
“Guess it’s a winner.” I kiss her head and head back to the checkout, dumping the toy on the conveyor belt. Cami makes a sad noise, like she’s about to start crying. The cashier smiles, scanning the toy and passing it back to me. “Here you go, love.”
I tuck the toy into the carrier with Cami, and she quiets down again, satisfied.
“This is a lot of stuff,” Beth notes, as I pass over my credit card. “I hope Seb’s paying you back for all of this.”
“I don’t mind paying for it.” I stroke some of Cami’s hair off her cheek. She grabs my finger and starts chewing it happily. My heart melts. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with this kid already. “I’ll buy you as many presents as you want,” I tell her quietly.
“Doshoodabay!” She babbles up at me, frog-kicking her legs.
“Aw, you’re welcome.”
“Ishbabady!”
“Seriously. Don’t even mention it.”
Beth doesn’t say anything. I glance across at her. She’s watching me, confusion all over her face.
“What?”
“Doesn’t it make you mad? The way Sebastian is treating her?” She crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly looking vulnerable. “He should be here. He’s ignoring his own daughter. It’s not right.” Her voice wavers a bit, like she’s really upset.
I rub Cami’s lion against her tiny ear, making her giggle. “Sebastian will come around. He’s a good person, he’s just very… regimented. Ordered. It scares him, being out of control like this.”
“There’s no control when it comes to kids. You have to roll with the punches.” Her mouth flattens unhappily. “I mean, she’s not even yours.” She waves at the full trolley. “Why are you doing so much for her?”
I shrug. “She’s completely adorable. Why shouldn’t I spoil her?”
She opens her mouth, and I quickly change the subject. “I’m hungry. Do you want to go get something to eat? My treat.”
