CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was Saturday morning, and I’d organised to check out apartments with a realtor friend of Gabe’s. He’d told me about a new gated community with freestanding units that sounded perfect. There was a pool, gym, and tennis courts all on site. I had told Mia that Gabe and I were working this morning, and she was happy enough to hang out with Ivy. I wanted to surprise her.
Ivy was down with the plan, so she’d agreed to cover for me. She and Mia were going to get some girl time in before the twins got home Mia was so excited. She was going on about never having had a pedicure before—I didn’t even know what a pedicure was. I was just happy she was letting me pay for it. Even though she’d promised to pay me back with her first pay cheque. I’d rolled my eyes at her, and she’d glared back at me.
All conversations that involved money ended in a stalemate. She was determined to pay her own way, and I was determined to take care of my woman. It was something neither of us were willing to budge on.
I grabbed my keys from the side table in the kitchen and slid a cap on my head before giving Mia a kiss on the cheek while she ate her toast at the counter. “Later, Pretty Girl. I’ll see you after lunch, yeah?”
She nodded as she finished the bite of toast in her mouth. “Okay,” she mumbled with her mouth still full.
I laughed. She was such a dag, and I loved it. She didn’t worry about trying to impress me. Apart from Ivy, women had always acted a certain way around me, but Mia was different. She was never fake, it was refreshing.
I called out for Gabe, “It’s go time, douchebag. You coming or what?”
He came around the corner into the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m coming, I’m coming. I just had to make sure Ivy did first.”
“Too much information,” Mia said around another mouthful of toast.
Gabe shot her a wink and then started walking in the direction of the front door. I just shook my head and followed him out.
When we were in the car on the way to the first unit, he finally broke the silence and asked the question I knew he’d been dying to ask me. “You sure about this, man? I mean, I get wanting to bang her brains out in privacy, but seriously, what do you know about her?”
“I know she’s different, I know she’s alone, and I know she had a shit life before I found her. I know she makes me feel things I didn’t know I could. What more do I need to know?”
He shook his head. “I’m glad you finally found someone, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. What happens when the baby daddy wants to see his kid? Or wants Mia back? You think you can handle that?”
“I don’t think she wants anything to do with the life she had before. In fact, I’m sure she doesn’t. I don’t know if the dad even knows about the baby, but if he does, I’ll deal with that when I have to.”
“I just want you to think about this shit. I don’t want you setting yourself up and some other dude coming and taking it all away. Just prepare yourself for the possibility, is all I’m sayin’,” he said.
I understood his concern. I had thought about Nugget’s father, but I hadn’t asked Mia about him yet. All I knew was he was a controlling arsehole. “I will,” I told Gabe.
I ended up taking the first unit we saw. It was perfect with three bedrooms, the main with its own bathroom, fully air-conditioned, a lock-up carport, a washer/dryer and sink attached to the unit, and a little private courtyard. It was small, but it was all we would need.
I filled out the paperwork while we were there, and the realtor told me it was mine and we could move in as soon as the weekend if we wanted. I shook the guy’s hand and left a happy man.
I didn’t own any furniture since I’d sold all my stuff when I decided to move here to help Gabe with the firm. So instead of going home, we hit up Harvey Norman. I picked out a corner couch with reclining ends, a king-sized bed for the master room, and a queen for the other. I figured I’d leave all the baby stuff for Mia to pick out.
While we were there, I got a fifty-inch plasma with surround sound, a Blu ray/DVD player, and one of those little Apple TV things. A man had to have the basics.
“You’re going to need sheets and blankets and shit too,” Gabe said.
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah, I s’pose. Where do you get that shit?”
“I’ll call Ivy,” Gabe said as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He wondered off a few feet away while he made the call. When he came back, he said, “Ivy says we should go to Target because you’re going to need towels and kitchen shit, too.”
My face dropped. I hadn’t thought of all the other shit moving out would require. All I’d been thinking of was getting the unit. I fucking hated shopping. I looked at my watch, it was eleven, and we’d left the house at nine. Two hours to sort the unit and big furniture wasn’t bad. I figured we could get all the other shit in another two hours.
I arranged to have all the big items delivered to the unit on Saturday morning and took the smaller stuff with me. Then we got back in the car and headed to Target. “What were Ivy and Mia doing anyway?” I asked Gabe as I drove.
“They were just getting ready to go to the spa or something like that.”
I nodded. I was glad Mia was spending this time with Ivy. She needed a friend or two. I wondered if Ivy would mind introducing her to Stella and Sloan? Those girls were bad-arse. Well, Sloan was bad-arse, but Stella was a sweetheart. I think they’d be good for her. “You think you could get Ivy to take her round to meet Stella and Sloan?”
“Don’t see why not. You know what Stella’s like around babies. She’ll fawn all over Mia the way she did when Ivy found out she was pregnant,” Gabe said with a laugh.
Gabe and Sloan had been in a kinda relationship a few years back, and it hadn’t ended well. But she was the one Ivy wanted to go to when everything went to shit. Stella and Sloan had helped Ivy cope and move on after we lost Tess. Since they had both been through shit themselves, they knew what she needed when Gabe didn’t.
The three of them have been close ever since. And now, I’m hoping they’ll accept Mia into their fold.
We got our parking ticket as we pulled into the underground parking at the shopping centre that had the biggest Target. Gabe and I walked in and headed straight for the sheet section. There were walls of sheets— I fucking kid you not. 220 thread count, 300 thread count, 500, 750, 1000, and what the fuck was a thread count anyway?
“Gabe, call Ivy,” I told him as we stood starring at all the options before us.
He was already pulling out his phone. “On it.”
A few minutes later, he was off the phone. “She said the higher the thread count, the better the quality. And she said you should buy them in the sets. She also reckons you’ll need at least three sets for each bed.”
I didn’t say anything as he spoke. I thought we’d just be able to walk in, grab a couple of packets off the shelf, and that would be it. None of this thread count shit. Eventually, I nodded. “We should split up. You can get the ones for the Queen, and I’ll get the King.”
“Thread count?” Gabe asked.
“Fuck it, just get 1000. At least they’ll feel nice. Nothin’ worse than scratchy shit sheets.”
“True that,” he agreed and held out his fist for a bump before we went our separate ways.
“Meet back here in ten minutes” I said as I walked away.
TEN MINUTES LATER.
I had a headache. This was fucking ridiculous. There were fitted sheets, flat sheets, valances, what the hell that was I had no idea. The point was there were too many choices. Finally, I saw a packet that said ‘Set’, so I grabbed it, but there was only one left. I ran my free hand through my hair, frustrated with this stupid, more complicated than it should be, exercise.
I felt a hand land on my shoulder, and I shot Gabe a look. He had three different coloured sets tucked under his other arm. “You right, mate? You look like you’re about to burst a vessel.” He laughed.
“This isn’t funny. I finally find the ones I need, and there’s only one set here.” I pointed at the shelf accusingly.
“Okay, so go to the next section,” he suggested.
“I already did that, but those ones are only 750 thread count. And I want 1000,” I shot back.
He shrugged. “So get some of those instead.”
“I can’t do that! They all need to be the same. I won’t be able to sleep on the shitty ones after I’ve been sleeping on the good ones.”
“You sound like a fucking woman,” he accused.
“I do not. Women like this shit. Do I sound like I’m enjoying this?”
The bastard just laughed harder. I really didn’t see what was funny about this entirely fucked up situation. “How about you go make yourself useful and get a trolley to put this shit in.”
He saluted me and marched away to retrieve a trolley. Meanwhile, I kept grumbling under my breath about how shitty all this was. Shopping should definitely be left to women. After another five minutes, I managed to find two more packets of 1000-count sets, and I swooped them up before the lady standing in front of them could, who was clearly eyeing them. Too bad. If she really wanted them, she should have picked them up.
Gabe came back with the trolley, and I dumped my stash in with his. “Right, what next?” I asked.
He shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? Google it.”
“I don’t need to google it. I’ve lived on my own before. I just don’t like shopping. Now, let’s just get this shit done. If it looks like I’ll need it, throw it in,” I told him. “I’ll get another trolley since we’ll need it. You go that way—” I pointed towards the towels, “and I’ll go that way.” I nodded in the direction of the dinner sets. “We’ll meet in the middle.”
We fist bumped and parted.
ONE HOUR LATER.
This was shit, absolute shit. Why did women like this? I truly didn’t understand. Shopping was the worst thing I’d had to do, and I’d run rescue ops in Afghanistan. But this, way fucking worse.
I’d picked up a red dinner set, a nice silver cutlery set, a few packets of black tea towels, and a set of placemats. Then I realised we would need a table to put the placemats and plates on. I pulled out my phone to make a list of other shit to buy.
Walking through the kitchen area, I grabbed a box of assorted pots and pans. Then a box of bamboo utensils and a matching holder. Then a pack of three different sized cutting boards and a knife block which made me think of steak knives. I knew which ones I wanted. They didn’t sell them here so out came my phone again, and I added it to my shit to buy list.
I pushed on to the appliance section. I threw a red four-slice toaster and a red kettle in. I knew I’d need a blender for my morning protein shake, so in went a red blender too. I found that purchasing my colour made it a lot quicker. It narrowed down the choices, making decision-making easier. It was already two o’clock—so much for getting this done in two hours—and we weren’t done yet. My headache was getting worse every second longer I spent in this place. I really didn’t think this through. I should have just given Ivy and Mia my credit card and sent them on their way. At least they would have actually enjoyed this.
By the time Gabe and I met up, I was ready to shoot someone. Looking up at Gabe, I noticed he looked relaxed and calm. My complete opposite. “What the fuck? Why aren’t you as strung out as me right now? We’ve been in this goddamned place for hours.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been shopping with Ivy a million times before. This is easy compared to going with her. I just grabbed whatever I wanted. I didn’t have to stand around discussing the difference between a bath towel and a bath sheet for half a fucking hour before picking one.”
“That sounds like a particularly fucked up kind of torture,” I responded.
“Amen to that, brother.”
We unloaded everything at the register, and I watched the total rise quickly. I hadn’t looked at the price of anything, and suddenly, I was glad I hadn’t sent Mia to get this stuff. She’d have a bitchfit of epic proportions.
Reloading our trolleys and then loading my car took another forty minutes.
When we got back in the car, I pulled out my phone to check my shit to buy list. I still needed a table and chairs, steak knives, entertainment unit, coffee table, shoe rack, computer desk, and a couple of bookshelves. Some of this stuff I should have gotten in Harvey Norman this morning but I wasn’t thinking of it. I’d have to go back tomorrow. I was so done with this shit for today.
By the time we got back to Gabe’s place, I was exhausted. I never wanted to go through that again. The girls were still out, so Gabe called them and told Ivy to pick up take-out for dinner. I didn’t bother unpacking the car. There was no point since I’d just have to load it up again when I moved it all into the unit.
I decided a nap was in order, so I took a quick shower to wash the shopping off my skin and climbed onto my bed in nothing but my boxer briefs. I was out in two minutes flat.