by Claire Kent
Erin gasped again—now feeling a flood of anger vying with her hurt feelings.
“It is creative. You’re not even paying attention. It’s not about brown walls and plain furniture. Look a little more closely before you leap to snap judgments.” Her voice was sharp, but she was glad to hear that it hadn’t yet become shrill.
Seth curled up his lip, peering at the little baby quilt—on which were staggered squares of the original toile with other patterned baby fabric in ivory, taupe, and dusky rose. “I’m looking at the details. It’s just not what I expected.”
“Well, I didn’t want the normal pink nursery with rainbows and flowers. I thought this was pretty and sophisticated.” She sniffed a little. Stared at the little lamp on the bookcase, which she’d painstakingly decorated one weekend to match the room.
She didn’t even like to do craft projects, but she hadn’t been able to find a lamp that looked the way she wanted. And she’d wanted everything to be perfect for the pumpkin.
Apparently it wasn’t.
“It is,” Seth agreed, his voice as matter-of-fact and impersonal as always. “But, for a nursery, it’s not very...very babyish.”
Erin swung around to face him again, her anger rising again at this bit of injustice. “It is too. Look at the quilt. There are those big bunnies and butterflies on the squares of fabric. And there are bunnies and lambs and flowers in the toile. And, see...” She pushed past him and picked up something from the rocking chair, where she’d left it the day before.
There were three wall hangings—each a square upholstered with remnants of one of the fabrics from the quilt—highlighting Erin’s favorite images. “These I’ll hang on the wall. See, this one has the bunny from that one fabric. And here’s the butterfly. And here’s the other butterfly.” Her voice grew sarcastic as she concluded, “In case people missed the crib and changing table and toys and baby clothes and everything, this should clue them in that it’s a baby’s room.”
Seth peered at the upholstered squares. They were soft and charming and filled with subtle color, but he raised his eyebrows skeptically. Didn’t seem to recognize their appeal.
She went on, "I don't have money to redecorate every year, and she’d grow out of something too babyish. I was trying to go with something subtle and classic."
Stupidly, she'd assumed that was what Seth would have chosen as well.
“But she’s a girl. She should live in a girl’s room.”
Erin felt the lump in her throat expand. This was ridiculous. Why was she getting so worked up about this? It didn’t matter what Seth thought, and it was only a nursery, after all.
But she still responded with an edge of both defensiveness and outrage in her voice. “It is a girl’s room. I wouldn’t use butterflies in a boy’s room. And look.” She picked up the quilt and showed him the reverse side of it. “It’s rose-colored. Almost pink.” She stroked the little quilt, which just this morning she'd been gloating over. “Of course, it’s a girl’s room. It’s just not clichéd.”
“I suppose,” he said slowly. He wandered around for a minute, eventually looking in the closet. There, he picked up a tiny smocked dress that one of Erin’s coworkers had given her at the baby shower Liz had hosted for her. The dress was lovely—white with delicate pink and yellow flowers embroidered on it and with lace on the collar, cuffs, and hem.
As she watched him holding the dress, Erin realized he’d probably expected the whole nursery to look more like that dress.
And less brown.
Despite her resolve, she was on the verge of tears again with the realization that he was disappointed in the room—which made her even more furious. So she snapped at him to compensate for her ridiculous emotional state. “Who asked you anyway? It’s a room in my apartment. I’ll decorate it however I want. And I’m not going to apologize for not going with some maudlin, pastel, Easter-egg room.”
Seth glanced up from the dress and over to her face. “I’m not asking you to apologize.”
“Well, then keep your rude comments to yourself. I worked really hard on this room, and I happen to like it. And everyone else who has seen it has liked it too. I don’t care whether you like it or not.”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “You’re about to cry.”
“I am not,” Erin lied, contradicting her words with a tear that slipped out of her left eye to stream down her cheek. She wiped it away furiously and scowled—wishing he’d never come back to town. “But you don’t barge in and insult the nursery of a woman who’s eight and half months pregnant. It’s mean and vindictive and just stupid.”
Seth sighed and rubbed his forehead between the fingers and thumb of one hand, as if he had a headache. “Erin, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I wasn’t insulting the room.”
“Yes, you were.” She snatched the little smocked dress away from him and put it back in its place. “You called it boring and uncreative and brown.”
“I never called it boring. It just wasn’t what I was expecting. It’s really very nice.”
His attempt at reconciliation didn’t appease her at all. “It’s not supposed to be nice. It’s supposed to be perfect.” Deciding she was more mad than hurt again, she went to replace the wall hangings in the chair. “And it is perfect. You’re just too dense to see it.”
When she’d carefully set down the upholstered squares, she turned back around to glare at him. “So you'd better be glad that she can hear me right now and that I’m trying to be a good influence on her, or else you’d be the recipient of some very unpleasant language.”
His mouth quivered. “I’m sure I would be. The room is very warm and charming. It’s growing on me already. It’s just not what I was expecting.”
“You’ve already said that three times. I don’t care what you were expecting. It’s not your room.”
He let out a long breath, and his voice was softer than normal when he replied, “I know that.”
Now Erin felt more like crying than ever, and she wasn’t even sure what had pushed her into tears again. It had something to do with the poignant, lost tone of Seth’s reply. “I didn’t want a pink room, and I only had a few options for paint color because of the building’s rules.”
“This is better than pink,” Seth agreed, studying her face again.
When she just stood there, he put a hand on her back and nudged her toward the rocker. Moved the wall hangings out of the chair before he helped her sit down. “I’m sorry, Erin. You’ve done a really good job with the room.”
“I thought so.”
“The furniture looks really good,” Seth added, obviously searching for more to praise. “And it looks like it’s good quality.”
“My dad fixed it all up.”
“I know he did. He did an excellent job.”
“He worked really hard on it. For weeks and weeks. He’s very excited about the pumpkin.”
“I’m sure he is,” Seth agreed.
Erin just rocked and sniffed, rocked and sniffed.
“Erin?” Seth’s voice was mild and questioning.
“What?” She rocked even harder, holding her belly with both hands.
Seth had seated himself on the chest against the wall—that would later hold toys. He leaned forward toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, wiping away another stray tear. “I just can’t figure out why I’m upset over a stupid nursery.”
“It’s not stupid,” Seth countered, obviously learning quickly. “It’s a wonderful nursery, and it’s important to you.” He was doing his best, but he was obviously far out of his comfort zone.
She was starting to feel a little better. “But why? What’s happening to me? When did nurseries become so important to me?”
The whole thing was surreal. Unfathomable. She’d never cared a thing about baby nurseries. Not in all her life.
Seth didn’t look affected by her outburst. “Maybe since you’ve had a baby to put in one.”
&nb
sp; Erin laughed at his slightly dry tone and then relaxed back into the rocker. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“It’s only reasonable. Different things might become important to you now.”
“But still…a nursery?” She closed her eyes. Felt old and exhausted all of a sudden.
Like a mother.
And she’d never really wanted to be a mother.
“I’m sorry about my reaction. It’s been a long trip, and I suppose I was too tired and distracted to properly appreciate it on first viewing.” He was back to his matter-of-fact tone of voice.
Erin shrugged. “It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend to like it.”
“I think maybe I will. Like I said, it’s growing on me.”
They sat in silence for a minute. Until Erin finally asked faintly, “Do you think I’m becoming a whole different person?”
“What?”
“Do you think being pregnant has changed me completely?” Erin rubbed the last of the tears from her cheeks and eyes. “Look at me. I cry at the drop of a hat. Spend evenings fixing up baby clothes and decorating a nursery. I haven’t had a conversation that wasn’t about the pumpkin or about being pregnant in ages. I used to be... It’s like I’m a whole different person now.”
Seth shook his head. “You’re not a different person, and I think crying easily is a common symptom during pregnancy.”
“It is, so hopefully it will go away soon. But it still feels like my whole life now is just about the pumpkin. Just about being pregnant.”
“It just feels that way now. Give it some time.”
“Very wise and sensible of you.” Then she gave him a searching look. “Your life doesn’t seem to revolve around her.”
“I believe, for obvious reasons, you’ve done more bonding with her than I have.”
It was true. For obvious reasons. But Erin suddenly wanted Seth to have bonded with their daughter more. She didn’t want to be the only one who was an emotional puddle on the floor.
So, prompted by a strange impulse, she murmured, “That’s true. You need to bond with her more.” She arched her back to stick out her belly. “She’s changing positions now. Do you want to feel her move?”
Seth gave a faint shrug. “Thanks for the offer.”
He made no move to come over and touch her belly.
It bothered Erin a little. Despite her fears at the beginning of the pregnancy, she now wanted Seth to really care for the pumpkin. To love her as much as she did. She tried to suppress this desire—since she realized that he was by necessity distancing himself, partly because of the ground rules she'd established—but still...
“You know,” she began lightly. “All the books say that the father is supposed to be bonding with the baby, even before she’s born.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
Erin nodded, her voice taking on a teasing note. “Yes. You’re supposed to be touching her. Talking to her. Singing to her.”
“Singing to her?”
Erin felt the irresistible urge to giggle. “Yes. Father-daughter bonding, you know.”
“I think I’ll leave the singing to you.”
“I don’t sing to her either. I’d hate to scare her before she’s even born.” She pushed up her shirt some to expose her bare belly, in order to emphasize her point. “But don’t you want to talk to her? Introduce yourself. Say hi.”
“No, thank you.”
“Why won’t you say hi to the pumpkin? You’ll hurt her feelings.”
Seth chuckled. “Are you actually trying to guilt me into it?’
About to respond, Erin suddenly felt a sharp jab in her abdomen.
Then heard Seth gasp. “Fuck! Did you see that?”
“Hey, watch your language,” she chided automatically. Then she glanced down at her stomach. “Did I see what? Oh, did you see my stomach move when she moved around? Yeah, you can. That was her foot, I think. I can usually tell.”
Seth’s eyes were shocked and focused unblinkingly at her belly.
Erin waited for a minute. When the baby didn’t change positions again, she said, “I think that was all the action for a while. Pretty cool, huh?”
In fact, Erin wasn’t sure Seth actually thought it was cool. He was looking a little freaked out.
But she supposed seeing the baby moving inside her might be a little unnerving. At least, she hoped that was all it was.
She pulled her shirt down and glanced down at his feet. “What’s in the bag?” she asked, deciding she wouldn’t torture him anymore with talk of baby-bonding when he clearly wasn’t interested.
“Oh,” he said, reaching down. “Just something I picked up in California. I saw it in a shop window and thought I’d...”
He handed her the bag, looking slightly self-conscious.
Curious, Erin pulled open the bag. Then her mouth dropped as she pulled out the most beautiful stuffed rabbit she’d ever seen. It must have been handmade, and the delicate stitching and precise detail of the soft white body, long, floppy ears, and adorable eyes, mouth, nose, and whiskers weren’t like anything you could buy at any toy store she'd ever been in.
“Oh, God. It’s beautiful.”
Seth actually looked slightly sheepish, as if he were regretting the gesture already. “You’d mentioned that you were using rabbits in the nursery, so I saw it and thought...” He finished with another shrug.
“I can’t believe...” Erin was almost awed by the soft, lovely toy and by whatever had prompted him to buy it. “It’s perfect.”
He shifted, his face stiff and uncomfortable. “I’m glad you like it. It wasn’t a big deal.”
It felt like a big deal to Erin. She sort of hugged it against her. “Thank you. I’m sure the pumpkin will love it.”
“You really need to decide on a real name soon. I still can't get over the fact that my daughter is presently known as the pumpkin.”
Erin scowled, but without much heat. “I’m working on it. Right now, she feels like the pumpkin to me. You know, a friend of mine called her son Tater—as in the Potato—until two months after he was born.”
“Well, I suppose the pumpkin is better than Tater.”
They drifted into silence, and soon Erin could feel Seth watching her. She had no idea what he was thinking—he was so often completely unreadable—and thus his careful scrutiny was unnerving.
She should have realized that he was simply working on solving what he saw as a problem with his typical, professional efficiency.
After a minute or two, he revealed his train of thought by saying abruptly, “You've been hanging out here by yourself too much. You should go out. Have fun. So you’re not always just thinking about being pregnant.”
“Yeah. What would I do? Go clubbing?” She shifted her clunky body in the rocker.
He gave her an impatient look. “You could go to a movie or something. There’s no reason for you to sit around and feel like you’re not still yourself. In fact, we could go to a movie this evening, if you’d like.”
To her surprise, the idea sounded really appealing to her. Seth was right. Why should she sit around whenever she wasn't working and obsess about being pregnant? Worry about the kind of mother she'd be. She used to go out and do things. Why shouldn't she do so now—occasionally, at least?
She was about to agree when she noticed Seth rub the bridge of his nose again.
Then she shook her head. “No. I’d love to, really. But you’re tired and just got back in town. You should go home and get settled instead of lugging me around to a movie theater.”
“I’m not that tired. It would be no trouble.”
Erin smiled, feeling absurdly touched by the offer. But she knew he really was tired. Even if she hadn't been able to see it in his eyes, she would still know. There was no way he would have been so undiplomatic about the nursery—even if he'd hated it—if he hadn't been exhausted. “No. Maybe some other time.”
Seth stood up. “All right. What about tomorrow?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow then. We can go to dinner first.”
Erin didn’t object. She wasn’t about to say no to free food.
She started to get up out of the rocker and had some trouble with it at first. Was a little annoyed with herself as she tried to push herself up, and even more so when Seth stepped over to help.
Erin couldn’t wait until she could once more get up out of a chair without thinking about it.
“Thanks again for the bunny,” she told him. “It’s really beautiful.”
“No problem. I’ll be going out of town again in a few weeks, so if I see another stuffed rabbit, I’ll pick up that one too.”
Suddenly, Erin realized what was going to happen. Seth was going to buy the pumpkin a stuffed bunny on every trip he made.
Her daughter was going to end up with the largest stuffed bunny collection in the history of the world.
***
The next evening, Erin had to leave the movie before it was over.
She’d had a great time at dinner. Seth had done his duty and diligently steered the conversation away from any talk of babies or pregnancy. They talked about Erin’s work, about books, about Seth’s trip, and about current events.
They hadn’t said a word about the pumpkin, although Erin had to get up to pee twice during the meal.
Erin had dressed up a little. Nothing fancy—just her nicest pair of maternity pants and the top that made her look least like a tent. It was wine red, with a scooped neckline, and at least it flattered her abundant cleavage and glowing complexion. She’d actually put on a little makeup, hoping that would help her feel more human.
Before the movie was over, however, her lower back had cramped up painfully, and she couldn’t sit in the seat any longer.
So she got up as unobtrusively as she could—which, at her size and awkwardness, wasn’t very unobtrusive—and then limped to the lobby.
She frowned when she saw that Seth had followed her immediately. He had his mouth open, no doubt to ask if she was all right. “Go back,” she said. “I’m fine. My back is hurting a little, and I had to stand up. No reason for you to miss the end.”