Erin rolled her
eyes in annoyance, all of her involuntary pleasure at seeing him vanishing in
an instant. “I’m fine. I told you that. I’m not going to fall apart just
because you happen to leave the city. I’m a little warm, is all.”
“You should
turn the thermostat lower so it stays cooler in here.” Without waiting for her
response, he moved automatically over to the thermostat on the wall in the
hallway.
Erin followed
him, unable to walk quite as fast as he did—although she tried. “Seth, it’s
fine.”
He shook his
head as he peered at it. “No wonder you’re too hot. This should be five degrees
cooler.”
With an
indignant gasp, Erin grabbed his wrist before he could lower the temperature. “The
thermostat is set where I want it. I don’t want to spend a fortune on
electricity all summer.”
He glanced over
at her, looking impatient. “But you can’t live in an oven. It's hot in here. You’re
sweating.”
Erin wondered
why she’d ever missed the pompous asshole. “I’m sweating
now
because I’m
so mad at you. You can’t just barge in and start taking over. This is my
apartment. My thermostat. I’ll set it at whatever temperature I want. If you’re
hot, you can take off your jacket.”
Erin’s face was
a little damp, but she hadn’t felt particularly hot or sweaty until Seth had
arrived with his arrogant presumption and willful interference.
He looked momentarily
like he was going to object, but he didn’t. “So you said you’d fixed up the
nursery?”
“Yeah,” Erin
said, happy to move on to another topic. She knew Seth was used to having his
way and that he wouldn’t appreciate not being in control of anything that
touched his sphere of influence—even if it was something on which he had
absolutely no claim. So far, they’d only clashed on little things. Like this. But
whenever something happened that reminded her of his controlling tendencies,
she couldn’t help but worry about when it would happen with larger things.
When he would
become more like Marcus.
“Erin?”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll
show you the nursery.”
“Is there
something you need to tell me?”
She felt
briefly uncomfortable as she stood in the hallway with him. He’d just gotten
back from a two-week trip. She really didn’t want to get in a fight with him
tonight. “No. Just try not to boss me around.”
He gave her the
half-smile that was her favorite of his expressions. “Sorry about that, but
it’s hot as hell in here.”
“It’s just fine,”
she said, taking the few steps to the spare room she’d turned into the nursery.
He peered into
the room she pointed him toward. He still carried the shopping bag, and Erin
idly wondered what was in it.
She looked
around his body as he stood in the doorway, and she felt another shiver of
delight as she caught glimpses of the meticulously decorated baby’s room. It
wasn’t quite finished yet, but she could already envision the whole thing, and
it was going to be perfect.
“This is it?”
Erin’s whole
body jerked in astonishment, and she stared at the back of his head. His voice
had been blunt, slightly surprised, and vaguely disapproving. “Yes,” she
replied defensively. “Of course, it is.”
Seth took a
step into the room. “Why is it brown?”
She frowned and
felt a familiar ache in her throat that she swallowed over ruthlessly. She
wasn’t going to do something so absurd as to cry over a silly nursery. She just
wasn’t. She was sick of crying over nothing.
Following him
into the room, she stood beside him and gazed around. “It’s not brown. It’s
more like taupe. It’s very warm and soothing.”
It actually
hadn’t been her first choice in wall colors, but the apartment building had
restrictions on possible colors to paint the wall, and soon Erin had decided
that she loved the color. It wasn’t too dark but also wasn’t one of the pastels
she’d been trying to avoid, and the paint exactly matched the shade in the
ivory and taupe toile fabric that had been the initial inspiration for the
entire color scheme.
Her father had
pulled out some of her old baby furniture from storage and then had found the
other pieces at yard sales and used furniture stores. He’d spent weeks fixing
up the crib, the changing table, the little bookcase, and the rocker. He’d also
recruited a neighbor—an elderly woman who’d always been fond of Erin—to sew
most of the bedding for the room, so her nursery was more unique, well-crafted,
and full of character than she’d ever hoped it could be.
At least, Erin
had thought so.
Obviously, Seth
didn’t.
He wasn’t
smiling, even with his eyes, as he slowly scrutinized the various details of
the room. “I guess it’s just not quite as creative as I was expecting.”
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.”
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.”