“You suck,” I tell her.
“You’ll thank me later,” she says under her breath.
I shake my head.
Luckily, the games don’t last long and she moves on to the present opening. I’m shocked by the amount of items I get. Blankets, onesies, diapers, pacifiers, bottles, a bouncer, a bassinet, and so much more. I’m honestly so touched.
Tears of happiness pool in my eyes. “Thank you, guys. Thank you.” I can’t get over all the stuff around me and the amount of care and love my daughter and I are surrounded by. “The fact that this little one is already so loved means so much to me,” I say, damming back the tears.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I won’t.
“Aw, Blaire, of course she’s loved.” Casey hugs me.
Loraine smiles over at me and reaches for my hand. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.
“Cake time!” Hannah cries, eliminating the serious tone in the room.
She cuts off slices of the pink and white polka dot cake and Casey and Chloe pass it out to everyone.
I take a bite and suppress the moan that wants to escape my throat. “This is so good,” I say. “You guys did good. With all of this.” I indicate the way they decorated. I might be the party planner but they certainly didn’t need my help. Pink and white balloons are tied up throughout the room and they cover the back wall with white curtains to soften the space. There are other dashes of pink and white through the room in the forms of candles, confetti, and even the pillows they put on the couch.
“Thanks.” Casey smiles, eating her own slice of cake. “We were happy to do it.” I finish my cake and Casey takes my plate before I can get up to throw it away. “Now it’s time to read the names.” She giggles. I’m a bit afraid to know what she put in there.
She hands me the bowl of names and I take a deep breath before plunging my hand inside.
I pull out the first slip of paper and open it up. “Daisy … cute,” I say.
“That’s mine.” Hannah does a little happy dance where she sits—I think the happy dance has more to do with the frosting she’s licking from the fork than the name itself.
“Penelope,” I read. “Melina. Julie. Lissa.”
“That’s mine,” Casey says, leaning against the chair I sit in.
I go on reading. “Peter … you do know the baby’s a girl, right?” I laugh.
“Peter’s an excellent gender neutral name,” a guy from group jokes.
“Uh-huh,” I say. “It definitely is.” I drop the slip of paper to the floor with the rest. “Amber.”
“Mine!” Chloe’s hand shoots in the air.
“Isabella, Sarah, Zoey, and …” I pick the last one out of the bowl. “Ava.”
I smile. I like that one.
“It means bird.”
I look up at Ryder. “What?” I say, stunned.
“Ava. It means bird, that’s why I chose it.” My breath catches.
I really am going to cry this time.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, rubbing my fingers against the piece of paper with the three simple letters.
Around me, I know Casey, Hannah, and Chloe are urging people out the door so they can clean up but I’m oblivious to it. I can’t stop staring at the name.
Ava. Bird. My little paper bird. That’s her name. I know it.
“So,” Casey says, dropping plates into a trash bag, “are you going to tell us about the guy?”
“What guy?” I ask, still focused on the name.
She huffs. “Ryder. It was obvious from the moment he walked in that you guys were close. He said he painted the nursery, and the way he talks about you … There’s definitely something going on with you two, so spill.”
I shrug and wrap my hand around the piece of paper that holds my daughter’s name.
“He’s the head of Group. He’s really helped me.” I shrug. “And yes, I suppose there’s something between us, but I’m not really sure what it is. I like him, and he likes me and we’re taking our time seeing where things go.”
Casey pauses what she’s doing, her hand hovering halfway to the trash bag. “Wow, I’m happy for you, Blaire.”
“Thanks.”
“So,” Hannah begins, “does he have three brothers?”
We all laugh.
“Yeah,” Chloe pipes in. “How is it fair that you get two great guys and we can’t even get one?”
“For starters—” I laugh “—you search for them in bars.”
Chloe clucks her tongue. “Good point.”
“You’ll find guys,” I say. “When you stop looking. Besides, I think Hannah’s already found her guy.”
“Who?” She looks mystified.
“Cyrus,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I saw him sneaking out of your apartment on my way to a meeting one morning.”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish. “I-I … Um … no … It’s not like that. It’s just sex.”
I raise my hands innocently. “Say what you want but I think you two are meant to be.”
Hannah looks horror-stricken. “Cyrus? There’s no way.” She shakes her head.
I don’t push her, but I know there’s more there than she even wants to admit to herself. Hannah’s always been more like me. Calmer. Shier. She’s not the kind of girl to jump in bed with a guy for the heck of it—and maybe that really is what happened the first time, but I honestly don’t think she’d continue to sleep with him if she didn’t like him.
Casey ties off the trash bag and drops it in the hall. “I’d say today was a success.” She nods to herself, looking around at all the baby things I got.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I can’t thank you guys enough for doing this.”
She smirks. “Is that your way of admitting you would’ve regretted not having a baby shower?”
I laugh. “Yes, but I still could’ve done without the games.”
“Gotta have the games,” Casey says, collapsing on the couch. Hannah and Chloe fall down beside her and I stay where I am in the chair. “You can get me back one day when you throw my baby shower.”
“Seriously, though,” I say. “Thank you.”
There was a time where I thought my grief might push my friends away. I tried to push them away myself, but they wouldn’t let me. They’ve always seen through my bullshit.
“That’s what friends are for.” Casey shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Well—” she sighs, standing “—we better go.”
I glance at the time. I hadn’t realized it was getting so late. It’ll be time for dinner soon.
I hug each of them and follow them to the door. “I’ll see you guys soon,” I say, leaning against the doorjamb. “Let’s do lunch next week.”
“Sure, how about Wednesday?” Casey asks.
“That’s good for me.” Hannah shrugs, starting down the steps.
Chloe checks her phone. “Yeah, me too.”
“Mhm,” I hum. “I’m free.”
“See you guys then,” Casey says.
I watch her and Chloe start down the stairs before I close the door.
I still hold the paper in my hand and walk through the apartment, over to my desk, so I can grab a piece of tape. I then go into the nursery and over to the lone piece of furniture—a dresser.
I hold the piece of paper against the wall and then press the tape over it.
I smile. “Ava.”
“Is this the last of it?” Ryder asks, grabbing the knife off the floor to open the box that holds the crib.
“Yes,” I say, looking around the room.
In a short amount of time, he’s already assembled the stroller, car seat, and changing table. While he’d done that I’d been busy in the kitchen…baking. But he didn’t know that. I wanted it to be a surprise.
“You waited until the last minute, didn’t you?” He chuckles, pulling the pieces out of the box. The paper with the directions goes fluttering to the ground and I pick it up, setting it on the dresser.
&nb
sp; I shrug. “With the move it didn’t make sense to start getting things until now.”
He grunts, pulling out one of the side panels. “Makes sense.”
“I’ll be right back,” I say, when I hear the timer ding.
I run out into the kitchen and pull the homemade cinnamon rolls from the oven. I haven’t made them in a long time, and they take a while to make, but I know it’ll be worth it. I lay them out to cool so I can frost them in a bit with the homemade cream cheese frosting. Ryder was right, the baking helped. It quieted my mind and I needed all the quieting I could get.
When the cinnamon rolls are cooled enough I slather them in icing and put two on a plate.
I pad into the nursery and find that Ryder already has half of the crib together.
“You’re fast,” I say, sitting down on the floor beside him. He’s so focused on tightening the side panel to the headboard that he doesn’t notice the cinnamon rolls. “I made you something.”
That gets his attention. He looks away and sees the plate in my hands. “You made these?” He grins, his eyes flickering from the cinnamon rolls to my face.
“I did,” I say proudly. I haven’t made them in so long that I was worried I would totally butcher them, but they turned out pretty good.
He picks one up and takes a big bite before setting it back on the plate. Icing is smeared all over his perfect mouth.
I don’t think, I just act on instinct. I lean over and cover his lips with mine, kissing away the icing. He stiffens at first, shocked, and then his hands are on my face, angling my head back so he can kiss me deeper. It doesn’t feel wrong and I don’t want him to stop. My fingers wrap around his shirt and my lips move against his, licking away the traces of cinnamon and icing. I realize with a sudden clarity that this man is what I want. I can’t deny it anymore.
His tongue brushes mine and his mouth swallows my moan. My hands grasp at his shoulders, trying to hold on because I’m pretty sure I’m about to fly away.
When the kiss breaks, I lean my forehead against his solid chest, breathing in and out heavily as I try to catch my breath.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Ryder admits, his fingers tangling in my hair.
I tip my head back to look up at him. “I wasn’t planning on it.” I laugh. He looks wounded so I quickly add, “But I’m glad I did.”
He smiles and lights up my whole world. I know, in that moment, that I’m in love with him. I think I have been for a long time and I kept denying it to myself because I felt it was too soon, that it was wrong to love someone else. But love…love is never wrong. If there’s anything that’s right in the world, it’s love.
He kisses me again, only a quick peck, before he grabs the cinnamon roll and takes another bite.
“It’s starting to look like a real nursery in here,” I tell him. “It’s all thanks to you.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad I could help.” He pauses. “I notice you taped the paper over there with Ava on it.”
I bite my lip. “That’s her name.”
“Whoa, I guessed right?” he asks, taking another bite of cinnamon roll.
I shake my head. “No, I suppose you kind of named her.” I shrug. “I hadn’t picked a name out yet—I had it narrowed down to a few—but when I saw that one and you said that it meant bird I knew it was the right name.”
His eyes sparkle with happiness and he finishes off the cinnamon roll. He jumps up and goes to the kitchen to wash his hands and get a drink before returning.
He goes back to work on the crib while I eat my own cinnamon roll.
I rub my stomach with my free hand and take a deep breath. The baby is sitting low and the pressure is intense. I breathe out.
“Are you okay?” Ryder asks, noticing the pinched look to my face.
“I’m fine. She’s just really low and it hurts,” I explain, taking another deep breath.
Ryder finishes with the crib and slides it over to where I told him it would go, beneath the paper crane mobile. The crib I bought has an antique look and it’s cream colored. The bedding I got is a soft pink and cream combo that matches the walls.
I look around the whole room. The antique armoire takes up almost the whole wall beside the door. There’s the dresser on the other with cabinets above for more storage. The crib is against the other wall with a glider and the changing table while the wood floor is covered in a thick white rug. The stroller sits folded up in the corner with the car seat. The room is completely ready; it only needs the baby.
Ryder reaches down to help me up and I’m thankful for it. My large stomach makes getting up and down a major chore.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think it’s perfect.”
He smiles down at me, his hand on my waist. I’m not sure he even realizes it’s still there.
“Ryder—” I begin but a sharp hiss of pain slips through my teeth.
“Blaire?” Concern leaks into his tone. My fingernails dig into his arm and I bend over. “Are you in labor?”
“I don’t know!” I cry. “I’ve never had a baby before!” He looks like he wants to laugh at me but knows better. “I can’t be in labor,” I say. “It’s three weeks until my due date. My parents aren’t here. I—”
“Blaire.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’m here, okay? You’re going to be fine, but I think we need to go to the hospital. Where’s your bag?”
“My room.” I point even though he knows where it is. “It’s on the floor of the closet.” The pain begins to ease away and I waddle toward the door to wait for Ryder. “The car seat,” I tell him when he comes out of my room.
“Oh, right.” He dashes back into the nursery.
My heart pangs. All of this is so normal, but it should be Ben here. I don’t feel bereft at that fact anymore. I’m just thankful Ryder can be here.
I grab my car keys while he gets the car seat. I’m not thrilled at the idea of walking down three flights of stairs—and I’m mildly terrified that the baby might fall out of my vagina—but I know I have to do it.
Ryder comes out of the nursery holding the carrier with my duffel bag slung crossways over his body. He looks like he’s ready to go into battle.
“I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into this,” I say, hissing through the pain as another—what I assume is—contraction hits me. “You can just drop me off at the hospital. I can call Casey so I’m not alone.”
He looks at me like I’ve grown three heads as he locks up the apartment for me. “I’m not leaving you,” he declares. “If you don’t want me in the delivery room, that’s fine, but I’m not leaving you. I’ll sit in the waiting room all day if I have to.”
I’m reminded again of what I wanted to tell him before the contractions started. “I love you,” I say.
He turns around on the stairs, nearly dropping the carrier. “What did you say?”
“I love you. That’s what I was trying to tell—”
He does drop the carrier this time and then his lips are on mine. He kisses me softly but with so much feeling. “I love you too,” he breathes against my lips.
“You do?”
“Hell yes,” he growls. I wince in pain. “Shit. Right. Hospital. Now,” he says disjointedly, picking up the carrier again and starting down the stairs. He goes slow so he can keep an eye on me.
We finally burst outside into the sunlit late August afternoon. My car isn’t too far and Ryder helps me into the passenger seat before installing the car seat as fast as humanly possible.
He gets behind the wheel of my car and adjusts the seat so that his long legs can fit. While he drives he calls to tell his parents what’s going on since they have Cole. I call Casey and let her know that I think I’m in labor and ask her to let Hannah and Chloe know.
Ryder reaches over and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips he presses a kiss to my knuckles. His eyes flick over to me and he smiles.
My breath catches and my heart speeds up. It feels so good to have m
y feelings out in the open and know he feels the same.
We finally reach the hospital and in a blur I’m rushed inside and back to a room where they hook me up to all kinds of monitors and determine that I am in labor and dilated five centimeters.
Once it quiets down, it’s only Ryder and me left in the room. Casey and the girls haven’t arrived yet.
Ryder sits by my bed, holding my hand. “If you want me to leave, just ask, you won’t hurt my feelings.”
I squeeze his hand, not in pain but in reassurance. “I want you here.” I take a deep breath and look around. The beeping of the heart rate monitor fills my ear. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I admit. “I feel so unprepared.”
“You never feel prepared,” he tells me, scooting the chair closer to the bed.
“Do you still think I’ll be a good mom?” I ask him, thinking back to that day at his house.
“Yes,” he answers without a second of thought. “If you saw the way you light up when you talk about her you wouldn’t be asking me that.”
“I’m still worried I won’t be enough.”
He brushes the hair away from my forehead, his thumb slowly stroking my skin in a soothing gesture. “You are enough.”
“Is there a baby yet?” I turn my head to the door to see Casey and Hannah slipping inside.
“Hey, guys,” I greet them. “No baby yet.” Hannah holds a vase of pink daisies and sets them on the table. “Where’s Chloe?” I ask.
“Still working,” Casey explains, setting her purse down on the floor. She comes to stand on the side where Ryder isn’t. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” I answer. “But I’m hanging in there. I haven’t gotten the epidural yet. I’m trying to hold out.”
“Girl,” she says, “get the drugs.”
I laugh. “I’m sure I will, but not yet.”
Hannah grabs one of the other chairs and pulls it over. “This is early, right? Or has time gotten away from me?”
“She’s coming early,” I confirm. “Shit,” I curse. “I need to call my mom.”
In all the excitement, I forgot about my parents.
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