Chapter 42

BLAKE

They probably think that I can’t hear them talking, but I can. It isn’t on purpose, either, but it just kind of happened. I finished up in the bathroom, washed my hands and went to open the door, and that’s when I heard them talking.

And it’s not just because I hear them talking that I don’t exit the bathroom. It’s the content of their conversation that has caused me to pause. It’s about me. Well, more specifically, it’s about Carrie and me.

Amy is saying that she thinks Carrie and me are perfect for one another, that we belong together and will be together forever. Not only is she saying it, but she is stating how certain of the fact she is.

And what’s more, Carrie isn’t disagreeing. Even as I strain to listen, I can’t make out what Carrie is saying back. But judging from the way that Amy continues to talk, I guess it to be in the positive.

I have thought for a while now that Carrie might be more than just the woman carrying my child. I have thought for a while now that I am slowly falling in love with her. Now I know her to feel the same way.

I stand by the door for a few minutes more and continue to listen. When I hear that the conversation has changed direction, I take a deep breath and walk back outside.

“What are we talking about?” I say as I enter the dining room. I don’t want them thinking that I overheard. “Anything interesting?”

“Oh, this and that,” Carrie responds. As she does, I see a coy smile spread across her face, and she shares a knowing glance with Amy.

“Hopefully, more of this and less of that,” I reply, sitting myself back beside Carrie.

As I sit down, I reach across and take Carrie’s hand. I kiss the back of it and smile at her. I say nothing, but the way I look at her speaks volumes. She returns the look, too. We are both in love.

“So, let me guess,” Amy sighs. “You’re doing all the work here, Carrie, while Blake puts his feet up for the next six months? He’ll start calling you the Baby Carrier soon.”

Carrie snorts.

I clear my throat. “Actually, Amy, if you must know, I would argue that I’m doing just as much work as Carrie, minus the actual carrying of the baby. In fact, if anything, Carrie is slacking off.”

“Excuse me?” Carrie blusters and frowns. “Who was it that had to drag you to the bookstore to buy all those baby books?”

“I agree,” I say. “But now that we have them, who has read the most?”

“Well, that’s debatable,” Carrie says softly, and she looks away, unwilling to meet my challenge.

I laugh. I know, too well, that I’ve read more than her.

“Oh, baby books!” Amy squeals. “Show me, show me.”

“Why?” I ask. “Planning on joining the fun?”

“Just curious,” Amy replies.

“Okay, one sec,” I get up from the table and hurry into the main bedroom where the majority of the books are stored. I pick up a handful and make my way back to the dining room where I offload them into Amy’s outstretched hands.

“Hmm, What You Need To whatever. And Five Things You Never blah blah. Oh, and of course, The Most Important Thing that is totally common sense. All these books are rather presumptuous, aren’t they?” Amy shakes her head. “They just assume you’re a hopeless case who doesn’t know one end of a baby from the other.”

“Ha, that was Blake before the books,” Carrie says.

“Hey,” I cut in, as I pretend to get angry. “I was pretty sure that the head was located on the top of the baby. And these books just confirm it. Although I’m still not sure which end the diaper goes on.”

“Okay, I admit I was wrong,” Amy says. “Clearly Blake is just as committed as you are, Carrie.”

I actually have a surprise for Carrie that I have been waiting to show her. I organized it ages ago but have since kept it a secret. And now, considering the theme of the conversation, I figure it’s a perfect opportunity to show just how seriously I am taking this pregnancy.

“Well,” I begin. “There is one more thing I can do to show you how far I’ve come. And I promise that by the end, even you, Carrie will be forced to admit that I’ve outdone you and outmaneuvered you in every way. You’ll be calling me the Baby Master.”

“What have you done?” Carrie asks. She looks at me curiously, scrunching up her face.

“Follow me.”

I take Carrie by the hand and stand from the table. Amy follows, and I lead the two women up the stairs and down the hallway. There’s a room down at the end of it, located just off the master bedroom. When Carrie first asked about it, I told her it was a storage room. But it isn’t.

I reach the door, pull out my keys and unlock it. Once I hear the lock click, I slowly push the door open and step inside.

“Ta-da!” I say.

I smile in delight as I watch both Carrie’s and Amy’s faces drop in shock.

The room is actually a nursery. I had it turned into one last week while Carrie was at doctors’ appointments and back at her old place getting a few things. She was gone for the day and I took advantage of her absence.

There’s a crib in the middle, with a mobile dangling above it. There are stuffed bears, a stuffed elephant and a stuffed high-five emoji in the crib too. And the walls are yellow, a neutral color. Boy or girl, I can’t wait to be a father, and I hope that this proves it to Carrie.

“Oh my God,” she exclaims as she takes in the room. “I can’t believe it. When did you do this?”

“So, you like it?” I ask. The thought just occurred to me that maybe I should have asked Carrie to help me decorate it, and there is a small chance she might actually be upset.

“Like it? I love it!” She rushes across the room and throws her arms around me.

“So, ladies, does this settle the debate?” I ask with a broad grin.

Amy raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. Carrie kisses me on the cheek.

“I suppose so,” Amy says with reluctance.

“I don’t know what I can do now to catch up to you,” Carrie says, laughing. “Because, yes, you definitely win.”

“All you have to do is have the baby,” I say. “And then we’ll call it even. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The three of us remain in the room for a few more minutes. Carrie continues to hug me, and Amy continues to watch us with a smile on her face.

This whole fathering thing isn’t going to be half bad. And I cannot believe that I get to do it with Carrie.