“What do you think about this one?” I ask Sam, who reaches for the tag on the cream-colored crib and begins reading about its safety features.
He puts his hand on the side rail and gives it a tug to test its durability. “Looks good.”
“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask, touching the floral applique on the front of the crib that matches the one on the back.
“It’s all hand-sculpted,” a salesperson says, joining us. She smiles and asks, “When are you due?”
“Oh, um—”
“A couple of months,” Sam answers, and I smile along with the lie. Even though people know I’m due soon, he doesn’t want the media catching wind of my exact due date.
“Well, this particular piece would have to be ordered, but it should arrive well before your little one. And it’s on sale,” she says exuberantly, gesturing to the four-thousand-dollar price tag that I didn’t see before.
I look at Sam and suggest, “Maybe we should look at a few more before we decide.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you have any questions,” the salesperson says, before leaving us.
“Sam, this crib is four thousand dollars,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s too much.”
“Not for our only daughter. If this is the crib you like, let’s get it.”
“Let’s just look at a few more, okay? We don’t even know if this crib would arrive in time.”
“Well, what about that one?” he asks, pointing across the showroom to an antique white crib that has tufted upholstery on the back with arched molding that resembles a beautiful headboard standing about a foot higher than the slats in the front. It’s the perfect mix of vintage and modern.
“Oh, Sam, I love that one,” I say, crossing the showroom to go look at it. I’m delightfully surprised when I see that’s it’s priced much lower than the last one we looked at.
I wait for Sam to inspect the safety features.
“What do you think? Should we get this one?” I ask, hoping he likes it as much as I do.
He smiles and puts his hand on the mattress, rubbing it over the pink sheet that’s covered in tiny white flowers. “Yeah, I can see her in this.”
I beam at him, feeling like my heart my explode. “So can I.”
“Let’s get this whole set,” he says, gesturing at the coordinating dresser and changing table, which together costs a small fortune.
I nod over the sticker shock, like I have a hundred times since we started buying furniture for our new house, and ask, “Are you sure?”
“Lucy, stop worrying about the price tag. This furniture’s going in our baby girl’s room. I want for the very best for her.”
I smile softly over my reluctance. “Violet is one lucky little girl.”
“No, no, no. Her name is Caroline.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I thought you like Ava.”
“I don’t know, I think Caroline has a nice ring to it.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see what sticks when we see her.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “I’ll go get the saleslady.”
“Okay.”
I look at the crib again, admiring it, and spot a plush white glider in the corner of the display with a matching ottoman. I walk over to it and sit down, and I’m instantly enveloped in its comfort. I put my feet up and start rocking backward and forward, and my eyes close automatically. Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.
“We’ll take that too,” Sam says, and I peek my eyes open at him. He’s got a big smile on his face that’s accompanied by my favorite pair of dimples.
I smile at him and say softly, “Thank you.”
Chapter 22
Lucy
Good morning,” Sam says, joining me in the baby’s nursery. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I say, folding a small white onesie and putting it away in the dresser, which Sam had delivered yesterday, just hours after we bought it. He wanted everything to be done before he left for New York today.
He pulls the folded onesie out of the drawer and holds it up between us. “I can’t believe she’ll be this small.” He lays it on my stomach and it stays in place.
I fold it again and put it back in the drawer. “If she’s so little, why am I so big?” I groan, bending over to get another onesie out of the laundry basket.
He laughs and wraps his arms around me. “You aren’t that big.”
“I feel like a whale.”
“Well, you don’t look like one,” he says, kissing the top of my head. He releases me and I pick up another onesie to fold. “Luc, I have to leave soon. My flight’s in a couple of hours. Tristan and Miles are on their way over.”
“Okay,” I say, glancing up at him.
“Hey.” He reaches for my hand. “It’s not going to be like last time.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You were right.” He pulls me close. “I shouldn’t have fought Brody Crawford. I wasn’t ready. But I’m ready now, Lucy. I’ve never been more ready.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Okay.”
“Lucy, if you don’t want me to do it, I won’t do it. Okay? I won’t go…if that’s what you really want. Because as much as I want to win tonight, it’s not more important than you.”
I close my eyes and put my head on his chest, ignoring the contraction that’s slowly moving across my stomach. “No, Sam, that’s not what I want.”
“Do you mean that?”
I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. “I want you to win too. I want it so badly for you. And I know how much you need it. Especially since it’s your last match. I’m just worried. I can’t pretend that I’m not.”
“You don’t have to worry this time, Lamb.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“I know. But I’m asking you to trust me. It’s going to be different this time.”
“Just promise me you’ll fight smart. Promise me you won’t get hit in the head a lot.”
“I’ll do my best.” He laughs softly.
“It isn’t funny, Sam.”
He closes his eyes and falls into the glider in front of the window. “I know.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know what it was like to see you after the last fight. You could barely speak,” I say, recalling how frightening it was to see him like that. “You could hardly lift your head up.”
“I know, Lucy.”
“Please stop saying that, because you don’t know. You don’t know what it was like for me.”
“Come here,” he says, holding his hand out. I take it and he pulls me down into his lap. “Come here,” he says again softly, wrapping his arms around me. He rocks back and forth. “I don’t know what that was like for you. But it must have been pretty scary.”
“Yes…it was.”
“My number one job is to protect you. From anything that might hurt you, including moments like that. I’m sorry I didn’t do my job that night.”