Chapter 48

Millie

Why is this the thing that made it all feel real? Not the doctor and her clinical office, with the diagrams of human anatomy on the wall. Not even when I was forced to lie down on her examination table and she felt my belly. No, it was this room, recently scrubbed clean and empty that had me seeing it. A white-painted crib with a mosquito net suspended above it. A big comfy arm chair in the corner for me to sit in and feed my baby. I hadn’t even bothered looking in my spare room, the junk piled in there too depressing to consider tackling, but this room. The way the natural light spilled in through the windows, the view of the garden beyond. It was…

“Perfect,” I told him, grinning because I couldn’t help it.

My family was all over me, wanting only the best, but in their mind, it was me holed up in their house. A child with a child, and that’s not how I wanted this to go. I loved my apartment. The views of the sea were the main selling point. I could lie on my couch and watch the storms roll in, the surfers below tiny points of colour in the surging sea, but could I see a baby, a toddler, growing up there? My neighbour, the grumpy Mrs. Smith, got cranky if anyone walked on the floor ‘too hard,’ blaming her dog’s incessant barking on us, so how would she cope with the antics of a small child? Buster wagged his tail furiously, as if he could follow my train of thought and might possibly eat Jonesy for me.

“So you want?—”

“Whatever you want,” Knox said, forcing me to laugh, but he remained deadly serious.

“Knox, we need to talk about this. I can’t just move in here.”

“Why can’t you?” He was so damn intense, something that only became more apparent as he stepped closer. “Why can’t you, Millie?”

“Because…” I didn’t want to talk about this in here. I felt weirdly protective of the space. Once I was out in the hallway, I could unburden myself. “Because last night Noah stayed over.”

“Any reason you’re whispering that?” he asked with a smirk. “We guessed that was probably gonna happen.”

I had a terrible thought.

“Do you guys have a private chat? Do you discuss what happens?”

“We might.”

His arms crossed his chest as his grin widened.

“So what do you do, give me a mark out of ten for services rendered or something? Write Yelp reviews?” I mimicked tapping my fingers on a keyboard. “‘Millie’s head jobs have an excellent slobber-to-tongue ratio, but she needs to watch her teeth.’”

“No.” He stepped closer and Buster let out a little whine. “Charlie does his best to pretend he’s not completely jealous by cracking stupid jokes.” Another step closer. “I check in and make sure everyone’s OK.”

“Like a dad,” I said.

“Like someone who cares about everyone involved.” He jerked his head down the hall. “What you really want to ask is if you move in here and start banging Noah down the hall, what am I going to think?” Our focus shifted to the empty room. “Is all that going to disappear if someone gets jealous? Well, that’s not how it works for me. I’ve spent my whole damn life wanting a family, imagining some boring suburban life and loving every minute of it. Did I expect to share that with two of my workmates? No. But am I willing to?” I watched him nod slowly. “Yes, one hundred percent yes. I’ve got no blood family that’s worth knowing, but the guys, you? Yeah, that’d work for me. Sometimes it’s not the family you’re born into, but the family you find that’s the right one for you.”

“But…”

It couldn’t be this easy. It couldn’t. My mind raced, inspecting every bit of him, looking for the chink in his armour, but I didn’t find it. Wouldn’t stop me from looking, but right now I had other questions.

“You said you wanted me to go shopping with you?” I moved in and straightened his collar, flicking off an invisible bit of lint. “Did you want advice on a new wardrobe or something?”

“What’s wrong with this shirt?” He looked down in alarm but quickly mastered himself. “No, that’s not what I want.” His hand covered mine, and right then all I could focus on was how huge and warm it was. “I was going to start setting the nursery up.”

One of my eyebrows shot up.

“People don’t usually do that until after the twelfth week,” I told him. My head shook of its own accord. “I might…” I didn’t want to say it, but the doctor had made mention of this fact, so I sucked in a breath and forced it out. “A lot of pregnancies don’t make it past the first trimester.”

“Yours will.”

He spoke with all the same confidence as he had when he’d arrived at the pub fire, not a scrap of doubt in his eyes. That was OK, I had enough for the both of us.

“You can’t just… manifest a healthy baby,” I replied, throwing my hands up. “This isn’t a ‘positive vibes’ only situation.”

“No, but it’s staying hopeful.” He grabbed my hands and used them to pull me close, and suddenly everything I was worrying about seemed to disappear. It couldn’t exist in the same space as him. “That’s what I want you to do with me, Millie. Build something concrete out of hope, because I can redecorate this place myself?—”

“OK, whoa there, mister.” He smiled, seeing he’d gotten under my skin. “Don’t go freaking crazy. This is a nice house, but let’s just say it needs a woman’s touch. Everything is grey.”

“What’s wrong with grey?” he asked, even as he pulled me into a hug.

“Nothing as long as it’s got a warmer undertone and is fairly light. That way it recedes and makes a nice backdrop…” His chuckle had me pausing, then looking up at him. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“You’re right,” he replied. “Everything in this house does need a woman’s touch, especially me, but let’s start with this room. Millie McDonald, did you want to come nursery shopping with me?”

“Going shopping are my two favourite words,” I told him, daring to go on tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.”

It was like stepping into a whole other world, I thought, as we arrived at the baby boutique. A really fancy one. We were on one of the main streets of a pretty swanky suburb, high-end homewares and dress stores everywhere.

“Are you sure we want to go in?” I asked in both trepidation and excitement. Rather than a garishly bright Disney themed front window, the boutique had a window display featuring nursery furniture in soothing, muted tones. “This place looks?—”

“Like the best baby shop in town?” he said, coming to stand beside me. “At least that’s what it said when I was Googling recommendations.”

“You looked up reputable baby stores.” I felt a restless energy shift inside me, one that needed to prod, poke him, see if this was real. Instead, I linked my arm in his. “OK, right now you’re my favourite.”

He snorted in response, then nodded at the building.

“So should we go and take a look?”

“Let’s go and make some very hopeful purchases,” I replied.

I felt like an interloper, sure that there would be a bouncer at the door who’d want to see an ultrasound or something before I entered the shop, but no. There was just a little jingle from the bell attached to the back of the door and a well-dressed woman looked up from where she was serving customers.

“Feel free to have a browse,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

Which meant she’d be asking us what we wanted, had we thought about brands and did we have strong opinions about co-sleeping. I swallowed hard as Knox drew us deeper into the shop.

“This feels like one of those nightmares where I have to sit an exam I didn’t even know I had,” I whispered. “Am I naked?”

“Not yet.”

My eyes jerked up, and I was ready to say something in response when the shop assistant joined us.

“How are we today? Looking for anything in particular?”

“Um…” There were cribs lined up in neat lines and nursing chairs and prams, but there were just so many of them I didn’t know where to start. “Everything?”

I’d said the magic word apparently, the woman’s smile now genuine.

“Just found out you’re pregnant?” I nodded. “Congrats! You’re a gorgeous couple.”

I sucked in a breath to contradict that, wanting to get in before Knox did, but he just shook his head slightly. I shot him a quizzical look, demanding answers to that, but he turned back to the shop assistant.

“Thank you. It wasn’t exactly planned, so we’re a bit lost at the moment. I was looking at cribs online and saw that some can be used as both a co-sleeper and a crib on its own?”

I just stared at Knox, wondering where the hell this came from.

“You’ve done your research!” The woman seemed inordinately pleased. If this was an actual exam, he was passing with flying colours. “Some like this one can even be transformed to become a toddler bed when your little one gets a little older.”

And so began my crash course into nursery furniture.

No bumpers or anything to soften a crib due to potential for smothering a sleeping baby. Some could have the side pulled down, the bed of the crib in line with an adult bed, and I could sleepily bring the baby to my side to breast feed if that’s what I decided to do. Styling wise, there was blond wood for a Scandi feel, dark oaks to give the nursery some old-world charm, white painted ones to keep a room looking light and airy, or if I was ecologically minded, bamboo or ones made from timber that only came from plantations. No old-growth forests were cut down to create it. A percentage of the price of the crib would go towards supporting koala rescues.

She was just being helpful, but I looked from one option to the other, for the first time in my life dizzied by choice. Knox could’ve turned me loose in any of the other boutiques on this street and I could’ve emerged with thousands of dollars of gear within minutes. I knew fashion, knew homewares, but here, I was completely at sea.

Get it together , I mentally hissed at myself. You think you want to become a mother? Pretty sure your child can’t sleep in one of your shoe boxes!

“Can you give us a moment?” Knox asked the woman.

“Of course.” She started to back away. “But, just know it’s perfectly natural to feel a little overwhelmed. I’ll put together a stack of brochures for you to take.”

I barely noticed her leave, focussed now on my breathing. I’d had a bit of asthma as a kid and that’s what it felt like now. My chest was tight and no matter how hard I sucked in breaths, my lungs didn’t fully inflate.

“Take a breath.”

Knox’s voice was deep and steady, a complete contrast to mine.

“Trying to…” I gasped out.

“This was too much.” He pulled me close and stroked my back and that helped a lot. “I may or may not have been told I’m a bit full on.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t focussed on my breathing, but him. I looked up and frowned slightly at his expression. He was always so grumpy that his vulnerability took me by surprise.

“No—”

“Yes.” He nodded sharply. “I’m sorry, Millie. I’ve just been going out of my mind since you made the announcement and the only way I can cope is to do something.” His eyes met mine. “I started on the nursery. You might not want to move in. You’ve got a nice place of your own, I’m sure. One that’s a whole lot less grey. I can set up an account here, and you can come by with some friends at some point when you’re ready.”

“No.”

He stared into my eyes.

“No?”

“No.” I shook my head and then took a full breath in, my chest loosening up. “You want to build a living, breathing Pinterest board for our baby.” I nodded. “I do too. It’s just…” Somehow with him I could admit this. Perhaps because he was already one hundred percent in on becoming a father, I had the space to experience my own concerns. “This is happening fast and I feel completely unprepared, and that’s not how I do things. I go into every situation knowing what I’m getting myself into and…” I looked around at the store, and it felt like a foreign country I’d decided to visit on a whim. Did I have a passport? Permission to be here? Would I be well received? I blinked and then focussed back on Knox. “I’m feeling a little lost. That’s not what mothers are supposed to feel.”

“You’re going to become a mother,” he reminded me gently, “and that’s how you feel, so while I think you are very special–”

“You think I’m special?” I said that as joke, but the way his eyes heated up had me thinking other things.

“Very, but if you’re feeling overwhelmed, I dare say other women have felt the same.”

I could imagine a whole legion of flustered women looking at different cribs and just being the next one in line was strangely reassuring.

“Are you always this good at talking people off a ledge?” I asked him, and he smiled.

“I deal with scared people every day.” My jaw tightened, not really liking the idea of being yet another burden on him, but he smoothed a thumb along it, forcing the muscle to relax. “Helping people is why I got into the fire service in the first place.”

“OK.” I went to pull away but he held me close. “So maybe this isn’t so bad. You’re not covered in soot or breathing in toxic fumes at least. It’s just a crib.”

“It’s just a crib,” he agreed.

“I mean it’s my baby’s first bed and I want it to be special.” My mouth was moving, the words I was trying to keep back, spilling out. “The room should be light and airy and peaceful and pretty, but gender neutral, because I don’t know what I’m having.”

“What we’re having.”

He turned me around in his arms and somehow that made it easier for me to survey the floor.

“I mean, the sleigh beds are gorgeous.” He let me go so I could go to the nearest one, running my hand over the curve of one side of it. “The shape, the colour.” I turned back to look at him. “The ash wood is almost grey in tone.” He nodded, coming closer. “But bloody hell, is there a grey tax or something?” My voice dropped low, and I cast a sidelong look at the shop assistant who was helping someone else. “This is an insane price. Maybe we can go to Kmart and find a cheaper knock off.”

“Nope. No knockoffs. I want something solid that will last through one kid.” He dared to look down at me. “Maybe more.”

“More…?”

This was all going so fast I was struggling to catch up, yet somehow Knox was already ahead of me.

“Maybe.” He seemed to realise he might’ve mis-stepped, all that confidence starting to crumble. “I mean?—”

I pressed my lips to his, unable to hear him stumble through this. There could only be one person messing things up today and that was me.

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But we need to focus on successfully bringing one child into the world first, so… Do you like this one?”

He watched me rub my hand up and down the crib railing and then smiled.

“I love it. Let’s see if they have a matching change table.”

There was no high like the one you got when spending someone else’s money. We stumbled back in through his front door, laden down with bags of toys and baby wraps and every other damn thing the shop assistant pushed towards us. She seemed to realise she had a cash cow on her hands and was intent on milking Knox dry. Buster greeted us with all the same enthusiasm as before, milling around our legs as we dragged our haul into the nursery. Then he needed to sniff every single bag, making sure it was all safe to be inside the house before turning to us for pats.

“The furniture should be delivered in a few days,” Knox said. “I’ll put it together and then you can come and take a look, make sure everything is where you want it. I thought we could maybe look at some paint colours in the meantime? That way I can have the walls done before the furniture arrives.”

“You mean pick a colour other than grey?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, then walked over to a pile of paint brochures, opening up the colour charts. “With that ash wood, maybe a sage green?”

That’s when I slid in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and peering over his shoulder. He tensed for just a moment, but then leaned into the embrace.

“A grey green, you mean.”

“It’s not a grey green,” he spluttered. “It’s soft, restful…”

He didn’t know, but I’d always loved these kinds of moments. Small ones, quiet ones, with someone you can let your guard down with. As he blathered on about his dubious colour choices, I pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin, the curl of his hair at the nape, and his voice trailed away. That feeling of connection was as fragile as I was and just as easily broken. He pulled away, and for a second I feared I’d overstepped, but Knox didn’t go scuttling out the door claiming he needed to take the dog for a run. Instead, he shifted in my grip so he could face me. His fingers found the slope of my cheek, tracing its curve with undue attention.

“Millie…”

“Knox…”

“I wanted to thank you—” he started to say.

“No, I wanted to thank you.”

I didn’t know where this was going, what I was doing, but I figured all I could do was wing it. Surely if I kept my intentions pure, I couldn’t do anything wrong? That thought was there and gone again as he leaned down, replacing his fingers with his lips. He seared my skin, branding me as his, and rather than pull away, my chin was tilted his way to give him better access to my lips. He kissed me, quietly, softly, in the peace of the soon-to-be nursery and that had my mind racing ahead.

Visions of being in here once it was finished, my baby in my arms and me in his. Knox collecting up our crying child and placing them on his shoulder, patting their bum rhythmically as I readied myself to feed them. Of him being this silent, watchful, strong presence by my side.

But not just him.

I could see Charlie walking in bleary eyed, scratching his head as he clustered closer to watch our child feed, and Noah crouched down beside me, offering me a tall glass of water. There was no reason to entertain these fantasies. I hadn’t even gone on a date with Charlie or Knox, but that’s not how hearts work. They run on blood, oxygen, and hope, just like Knox said, and that’s what had mine beating right now.

“Millie—”

“You haven’t shown me the rest of the house yet,” I rasped in a low voice. “I think I need a tour. Can we start with the bedroom first?”