1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [88]
“No. Have you?”
“Well, I tried, and frankly, I found it rather confusing. I was wondering if you’d mind helping.” It was an excuse to see him again, to end this tension between them. If they were going to share custody, then they needed to feel comfortable with each other. Adversity and mistrust weren’t in the baby’s best interests. Or theirs…
“That’s why you asked me over?”
She nodded. Yes, it was an excuse but she’d wanted to see him again.
Everything had changed after their…nap. That was a week ago. Nothing had happened that afternoon, nothing physical, and yet it had made a difference, at least for Gloria. Now, whenever she crawled into bed and closed her eyes, she could feel Chad lying beside her and it comforted her, calmed her. She wanted that closeness again, that feeling of being protected and cherished. Everything before had been about the powerful physical attraction between them. But they’d experienced something else that afternoon—tenderness toward each other and love for their unborn child. Gloria had felt a bond with Chad, a feeling of wholeness that she’d lost with the death of her parents. She had a blood relationship with the McAfees and they’d welcomed her into their lives. What she didn’t have were the memories, the shared times, the laughter and private moments that connected the members of a family.
“Where’s the crib?” he asked, giving her an odd look.
Caught up in her thoughts, she’d been staring off into space. Startled, she led him down the hall and escorted him into the second bedroom, which she planned to turn into the nursery.
He paused halfway into the room. “You’ve bought quite a lot of stuff already.”
Gloria rested her hand on the changing table. “Corrie saw this on sale and phoned me from the store. I bought it sight unseen, and then Mack and his brother-in-law picked it up for me and brought it to the apartment.” The change table was white wood with six drawers, three on each side. There was a brightly colored pad on top.
“I want to paint the room a light shade of blue.” Mack had volunteered to do that for her. She’d thanked him and declined. She wanted Chad to offer.
He didn’t.
Chad looked at the two ends of the crib that leaned against the outside wall. She’d taken everything out of the cardboard packaging, which she’d put in the recycling bin.
“The assembly directions are in several different languages,” she said, handing him the printed sheets. “I suspect the English version might be a bit difficult to follow.”
“In other words, English isn’t their first language.”
“Exactly.”
“Hmm.” Chad studied the directions, then flipped through several pages. “The pictures will help.”
Gloria had made that assumption herself, only to give up in frustration. “I have all the tools we’ll need.”
“Good. I didn’t think to bring anything with me.”
“Why would you?” He didn’t know until he arrived why she’d contacted him.
They sat down on the floor together and Gloria marveled at how thorough Chad was. He read the entire booklet before he even reached for the screwdriver.
“We shouldn’t have a problem.”
An hour later, Gloria had to get up off the floor. Everything ached. “How about a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“I’m more in the mood for a shot of whiskey. Has anyone ever successfully assembled one of these cribs?”
“I…I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t have anything stronger than wine.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
“After six.” She hadn’t even thought to look until he asked. It was already dark.
“Six?” he repeated, and in one fluid motion he was on his feet. He grabbed his cell and rushed out of the room.
“Do you need to be someplace else?” she asked, and assumed he was meeting Joni. Her chest tightened as she held her breath.
Talking on his cell phone, Chad stepped outside the apartment onto the second-story walkway. He paced back and forth, intent on his conversation. Several minutes passed before he returned.
“Do you