“She’s with him now. I mentioned this earlier, so I think she’ll understand.”
“Just remember, any time—day or night—we’ll be there.”
I nod, afraid to speak. Afraid the emotion of the moment will show in my voice. I’m not an overly emotional guy, but anyone who’s seen me this past week would never believe that statement.
“Now, the Robinson job.” Dad thankfully changes the subject. He knows, but doesn’t mention it.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, the remodel.”
“Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson are leaving to go house-hunting in Florida in two weeks. Their plan is to sell the house here and buy a condo, so it’s less maintenance, and also buy a condo in Florida. I talked to Mr. Robinson this morning, and he assures me that his daughter and son-in-law will be here and can make any necessary decisions.”
“Good. Sounds like it’s all under control. Do you need anything from me? I’ll be back into the swing of things on Monday.”
“Nope. Got it covered, son. I’ll probably hang out next week and get you caught up on anything I might’ve forgotten. Your mother will be in Heaven spoiling that son of yours.” He grins.
He acts like Mom is the one who will be doing all the spoiling. I’ll let him pretend, but we both know the truth. Instead, I just smile back at him and nod in agreement.
After answering a few e-mails, I say good-bye to my dad and head to the store. Mom and Reagan have been cooking and bringing meals, but I still want to stock up on some easy foods. I also want to check out the baby section. My parents’ and friends, along with Reagan, picked out everything for Knox’s room, and I just want to shop for my son, for once. I have no clue what he needs or what I should even buy, but I just feel this need to get him something. I know clothes are always a good thing, but I don’t know what size.
Me: Hey, I’m at the store. What size clothes does he wear?
Pathetic, I know. I have to text my sister to find out what size clothes to buy my son. Newborn, I assume? I don’t want to be that dad; I want to know how to take care of my son on my own. I still have a hell of a lot to learn though.
Reagan: 0–3 months right now. They’re a little big, but he’s going to grow. Don’t get newborn.
Well, shit. Good thing I asked her.
Me: Thanks.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I grab a cart and head toward the hygiene products. I grab body wash, deodorant, razors, shaving cream, and shampoo. From there, I head to the baby section. I can honestly say this is an all-time first for me. Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I pull up my photo gallery, having snapped a picture of his diapers and formula before leaving today. I grab three packs of diapers, since the little guy seems to go through them like crazy. I also grab a box of wipes, because I don’t want that shit on me—literally. Next stop is the formula. I add three cans to my cart and skim over all the other items. Baby food, cereal, teething biscuits. I’m overwhelmed, but I assume he’s not old enough for this stuff or Mom and Reagan would’ve already had a supply ready to go. The next aisle over is toys and pacifiers. My little guy loves his, and it’s been a lifesaver at times when I couldn’t get his bottle ready fast enough. I throw another pack in the cart; it’s the same as he has now, so it should be good to go. On second thought, I grab the package and read the back. Newborn. Perfect. I toss it back into the cart and wheel a little further down the aisle to the toys.
I find a set of plush car keys. The package says they’re soft, which I assume is a good thing, so I pick up a few more, plus a couple other toys that the packaging assures me are good for my baby’s development. I grab a couple more packs of bottles because those things are a bitch to clean; plus, the more you have the better, right? There’s also this basket thing for the dishwasher—that’s a must-have. I toss it in the cart as well.
The next aisle is blankets and towels, and I grab a few of each along with a pack of wash cloths, burp cloths, and receiving blankets. Cloth diapers? No, thank you. I roll right on past those.
Onesies? I didn’t know that’s what they were called, but he wears them. I grab a pack of eight plain white in 0–3 months and toss them into the cart, adding some socks as well. They’re so damn tiny.
Turning the corner, I see the clothes. I have no clue as to what I really need, so I’m just tossing random shit into the cart. Sleepers. I know those are easy to dress him in, and who doesn’t want to lie around in pajamas all day? I pick out a few and add them to the cart. I come across what looks like the baby version of sweatpants; they are so damn small I can’t help the smile that tips up my lips. I grab a couple pairs, thinking he can wear them with those body suit things—onesies, I think it was?
A few more random clothing items and the cart is filling up. I’m now in the furniture, where I see a pen-looking thing that’s called a Pack ‘n Play. I pull out my phone to do some research. Looks like it’s used to travel, with a safe place for him to sleep. Might be useful for the living room, or even the office when I need to get things done. I grab one off the shelf and slide it under the cart.
The next thing that catches my eyes is a bouncing seat. The box says it’s soothing, and again I pull out my phone and research. All good reviews. I grab the one that has all the bells and whistles—literally, as it has toys attached. I slide it under the cart next to the pen thing. The next aisle is books, and I grab one about what to expect during the first year of life. Looking down, my cart is loaded with things for my son. A sense of pride fills me that I can afford to do this for him, to give him the things he needs.