“I’m not sad. It’s just a big change, you know?” I say, standing on my own and stepping back. “I think it’s just a bit jarring to see the room my baby will be sleeping in. That’s all.”
“I get that. But—”
Sarah appears in the hallway, windswept, as if she’s been running, distracting Caleb mid-sentence. “I found condoms. Brand new in plastic-wrapped packaging,” she announces in the tone of a news reporter.
Well, that was a sobering entrance. I look at her blankly, taking in her unblinking eyes and crazed expression. “In my room?” I ask, confused.
“No, obviously not. There’s literally just a bed and mattress in your room. In Bo’s.” She darts back inside the door to our left.
“Sarah, no! Get out of there.” I follow her in. “Stop snoop—” I cannot continue chastising her once I find myself in the centre of Bo’s bedroom. Unlike the rest of his home, this room is curated to him exactly. It’s filled to the brim with art and belongings.
One wall is painted dark green behind a slotted pine headboard. The bed is covered in greyish beige bedding and has a rustic wooden bench at the foot of it. Under both the bed and the bench is a large natural-woven rug that stops before two nightstands with open shelving and shallow drawers at the top.
On the right nightstand, there’s a collection of what, at first glance, someone could mistake for dirty magazines. But they’re actually—
“Comic books,” Sarah says, snickering.
“I’ve seen what you read on your Kindle. You’re in no place to judge.”
She raises a finger to make a counterargument, then lowers it, nodding to herself in a sad sort of acceptance.
“Do you think he’d let me borrow this?” Caleb asks, emerging from Bo’s closet wearing a knight’s armour chest piece and helmet.
“Both of you, stop. We shouldn’t be in here or touching his stuff.”
“Do you think he role plays in bed?” Sarah asks, practically skipping over to her husband before brushing her hand over the metal on his chest. “That could be kind of hot,” she says to me over her shoulder, smirking.
“Milady,” Caleb says, bending to kiss her. She giggles as their lips meet.
“Oh my god, seriously? Now you’re defiling his things!”
“Seems only fair,” Caleb says, taking off the helmet and holding it to his hip. “We haven’t been able to mess around in our guest bedroom since we found out that it has some sort of magic baby-making energy.”
“That’s not how it works,” I sigh out under my breath. “Please, just—put everything back.”
“Win, I think your baby daddy might be a huge nerd,” Sarah says, walking back toward me as Caleb skulks away.
I look over her shoulder at the framed sepia art print on the wall next to the closet door. It’s a pencil sketch patent of the Star Trek Enterprise. “Well, that’s what I’m here for, right? To get to know the guy.” Definitely a nerd.
“Exactly… Which is why I looked in his drawers.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Not the same thing.”
“Tell me, Winnifred June, why does a man buy condoms?”
I pull up my shirt and point to the smallest of baby bumps that’s started to take shape. It looks more like a bloated stomach after a large burrito between my squishy, soft hips. “Maybe to avoid this?”
“No, but he hasn’t used them. The box is still wrapped in plastic.”
“Sarah, what is your point here? We have an entire truck to unpack, and I really don’t think we should be in his room or discussing the man’s sex life.” I glance over my shoulder as a thud comes from the closet where Caleb is. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing in there!” I shout at him.
“He’s not having sex with anyone else,” Sarah says, grinning like a feline.
Caleb is laughing in the closet, and I swear I hear the sound of a lightsaber opening.
“Or Bo had so much sex he ran out and had to buy more,” I argue. Her face falls instantly. She’s so betrayed by the very notion of Bo having sex with someone else that I almost feel guilty for suggesting it. “Sar, I know your heart is in the right place, but Bo and I are not a couple from one of your books. If he was planning on having sex with me, then he wouldn’t need those, would he?”
“This logic has backfired. I’ll admit it.”
“And I’m not planning on having sex with him, which is another factor you seem to keep forgetting.”
Just then, Caleb comes out of Bo’s closet holding something in his hands, chuckling darkly. “Think he’s a mountain climber, or…？”
My throat tenses and dries at the sight of silky black rope. Caleb throws it over his shoulders like a shitty feather boa.
Sarah snort-laughs, flipping through a comic book at the side of the bed.
“Put that back now and go wait at the truck,” I seethe. “And you.” I point to Sarah, but then draw a blank. “Just… come see the bathroom with me, I guess. Neither of you are allowed to come back in here, understood?”
They both roll their eyes. Caleb stomps back into the closet, and Sarah pouts as she slots the comic book back into the stack. I make them leave the room before doing a last check that nothing is out of place. I shut the door behind us and follow Sarah into the bathroom across the hall.
It’s certainly a tight fit with both of us in here, because the large glass shower stall takes up most of the room. Black hexagonal floor tiles clash beautifully with white walls that turn to tile inside the shower with a built-in tiled bench. There’s a small vanity with a little storage underneath the sink and a mirrored medicine cabinet above.
“You’ll have to come take baths at my place, I guess,” Sarah says, sitting on the closed toilet seat.
I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to be so devastated by the lack of a tub, but the reality is hitting hard. Baths are where I unwind, process, and decompress. And over the past month, it’s where I’ve also found comfort for my tired, aching body.
“Maybe,” I pout, turning the sink’s faucet on and off again.
“Or get a tub installed? He’s got the money, clearly. The room is big enough.”
I laugh under my breath. “Yes, I’ll start making a list of demands.” I stand straighter, putting on an impression of my worst self. “Thank you, Bo, for letting me move in here because I’ve failed to become a successful adult on my own accord and got knocked up by you. How would you feel about a full bathroom renovation? And perhaps, while you’re at it, could you build me a tower to sleep in?”
Sarah smiles up at me. “Fair enough,” she says, moving to stand at my side. We look at our reflections in the mirror, and both sigh wistfully.
“Plus, the shower may be a necessity,” I say, noting the multiple grab bars installed. “I’ll miss baths, but I don’t need baths.”
“Agree to disagree,” Sarah says, fiddling with her hair as she admires her reflection with pouted lips and raised brows. I do the same, fluffing my bangs so they fall better. “We used to do this every day,” she says soulfully, making eye contact in the mirror.