Connor tossed the boards on the floor. Not the first time that had happened. “If I’m fucking it up so badly, you take a go.”
The numbers before me swam on the screen and I pinched the bridge of my nose. If they were still working on this tomorrow, I was going to work from home. I generally made it a practice not to, because it was just more secure to keep everything in the office where there were secret drawers and panels galore, but I had to keep my sanity.
With a surreptitious glance at the two men swearing at the crib and each other, I switched over to my web browser. A few days after learning I was pregnant, when it had really started to settle in, I’d created an idea board for the baby’s nursery. After a month of swapping things in and out, I’d finally settled on my vision for the perfect room.
I’d gone back and forth on whether I wanted a fox or bear motif. I wanted Misha to know I would accept our child no matter which animal he or she was. I suspected that Misha didn’t really care about decorating, but I worried that if I chose a fox motif, I’d be sending a subliminal message that I hoped our kid would be a fox and that I liked foxes better. I couldn’t even make the easy choice based on color, because if our child was a fox, they’d most likely be black furred, like me. It was a recessive gene, and if I had mated with another fox who was red, unless they also carried the recessive gene, our kid would have been more red. I wasn’t completely sure how that worked with cross-species matings, but it seemed reasonable to expect any fox children would inherit the majority of their animal traits from me.
So. Black fox or brown bear. Either way, the colors could be vibrant around them.
Anyway. I’d decided on the fox for the simple reason being that most of the baby-themed bear decorations were overly cutesy and round, teddy-bear images. I simply liked more of the fox items I found.
Black fox. Shades of orange and blue for the rest of the room. Muted and calming shades on the bed, bright and bold shades on the walls. A mixture for any accessories.
I saved the digital board as an image and emailed it to Misha with the subject line: Nursery idea. What do you think?
I jumped when Connor’s head hit my chair. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He was on his hands and knees, phone in one hand with the flashlight turned on.
“The damn sixes and elevens rolled under your chair when Patty jerked the fucking screw tray out of my hands. And the cursed things are so fucking tiny, I gotta be right on top of them to get a glimpse. Mind shoving over for a minute?”
I pushed my chair away from the desk. “I’ve got to take a bathroom break anyway.”
After I washed my hands, I turned sideways in the mirror, pulling my shirt tightly against my stomach. That was a definite baby bump, wasn’t it? It didn’t just look like I’d had too much for dinner?
I pulled my phone out and held it awkwardly as I tried to get a sideways picture of my bump, other hand holding the shirt tightly against my lower stomach again. It took a few snaps to get a decent one, which I texted to Leaf.
Do I have a baby bump yet???
I flipped through the photos for another second, sighing happily. I still hadn’t felt our little one move, but my growing stomach was proof that something was happening in there. I still had two weeks until we had our big ultrasound scan, and it was difficult to wait patiently. I was terrified something would go wrong between now and then.
Three steps before I reached the office door, I realized it was quiet. Too quiet.
I threw the door open to find Connor and Patrick both hovering over my desk with gleeful smiles. “What are you two fuckers doing?”
“Oh, Rory!” Patrick clasped his hands to his chest. “I absolutely adore that rocking chair with the attached fox pillow for your head. It’s absolutely to die for.”
Connor snickered. “My favorite is the butt wipe warmer so the wee one doesn’t scream about a cold bum. Also in fox shape. I’m thinking I might need to get me one of those for home.”
I hurried over to the computer and grabbed the keyboard away from them, locking the screen. Apparently, they’d been looking at my email to Misha.
“Don’t either of you have any concept of privacy?”
Patrick shook his head. “Never heard of the word. But I do have a question. Were you leaning more toward the box of balloons for the gender reveal or the cake?”
“Oh the cake’s a classic,” Connor said. They were bouncing back and forth too easily. And the gender reveal ideas hadn’t been in my email.
My brain screeched like a record on a turntable as I tried to remember what I had left open on my computer. I normally was all business when in the office, but the two of them had been making it impossible to focus on top of the struggles I’d been having with foggy baby brain.
Patrick tapped his chin. “But maybe too classic, if you know what I mean? I’ve got an idea, what if they put a bit of whiskey inside the cake? Bushmills if it’s a boy, Green Spot if it’s a girl?”
“You mean the whole bottle? Inside the cake? Seems a bit dangerous with the glass and all.”
“Of course not the whole bottle inside the cake, are you mad? Not unless it’s pouring it into it. Which is more what I was thinking.”
“How are you going to tell Bushmills from Green Spot inside a cake that’s been cooked? He might as well be having a hedgehog for all we’ll be able to tell.”
“I’m not putting whiskey in the cake.” I shouted a little. I hadn’t meant to. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I have a nursery planned. And yes, I’m considering a gender reveal party. There’s nothing wrong with either of those things. What is wrong is you two digging into my private matters.”
“Is it really private if it’s left wide open on a computer for anyone to see?”
A headache was starting to build behind my eyebrows. “Yes, when it’s someone’s personal computer. It should absolutely still be considered private.”
Connor coughed. “Guess we shouldn’t have taken a look at that list of pregnancy-safe sex positions. I do think you’d make a very pretty cowgirl.”
“Do you think he’d wear the pretty pink cowgirl outfit?” Patrick mimed lifting a hat. “I have to. I can’t imagine me brother naked. That’s just wrong.”
I raised one finger. Then two. “If I get to five and you’re still here, Da will have to forgive me for murdering the two of you because I am showing magnificent restraint right now.”
“Oy, Rory.” Harry poked his head around the door, delaying Connor and Patrick’s demise. “Your Da here?”
“He went downtown with Liam. Why? Do you need something?”
Harry shook his head, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and amazement. “The Chens sent a present. I’m not exactly sure how to handle it.”
I pointed at Patrick and Connor. “You’re not safe. Just so we’re clear.”
Patrick opened his mouth to deliver a comeback and Connor knocked him on the back of the head. “Real business now, Patty.”
Bruno Chen stood in front of our home, eyeing a long, flatbed truck with a crane. A giant piece of stone lay on the bed of the truck.
“Mr. Chen. Welcome. How can I help you? I’m afraid my father isn’t here right now.”