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Something Blue - Emily Giffin [111]

By Root 967 0
I looked at him, expecting him to say something more about her. He still had not told me—nor had I asked—about their conversation on Christmas Day. Which was fine by me. I didn't want the confirmation of her engagement to upset the delicate balance in my life. I looked up at him and said, "I don't know. I can't put my finger on exactly what I'm feeling. Something just isn't quite right."

He suggested that perhaps I needed to nest. "You're prepared mentally… but now you have to get there physically." He took a sip of beer. "I think we need to get the nursery set up. I was thinking that I'd paint this weekend."

I smiled, thrilled that he still wanted us, but then hesitated and said, "What about Geoffrey?"

"What about him?"

"Well, I think he might want me to move in with him," I said. "He's been talking about finding a bigger flat," I said nervously, as if I were somehow betraying Ethan by moving out. We had come a long way since my frantic phone calls from New York when I had to practically beg to stay with him for a few weeks.

Ethan jabbed at a green pepper with one chopstick. "Is that what you want? To live with Geoffrey?" he asked in a judgmental tone.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"I'm not… I mean… I just didn't know you two were that serious," Ethan said. "It seems like it's really happening fast."

I felt myself getting defensive as I told him yes, we were getting quite serious and that Geoffrey was everything I was looking for.

"As long as you're happy," Ethan said. "That's all I want for you."

"I am happy."

Ethan looked pensive as he took a bite of brown rice. He chewed, swallowed, sipped his beer, and then said, "Well, I still think we should go ahead and paint your room… just in case."

"Just in case Geoffrey and I break up?"

"No. I didn't mean that. I just meant… well… just in case it takes longer than expected for you and Geoffrey to feel ready to live together. In any event, I want the boys to have a room here too."

"That is so sweet, Ethan. You're such a good friend," I said.

So that weekend, while Geoffrey was on call, Ethan painted the nursery walls blue, touched up the bookcase with a coat of fresh white paint, and assembled the spindle cribs I had charged a few weeks earlier. Meanwhile, Meg and Charlotte took me shopping for more supplies. I stuck to the essentials—nappies, wipes, bottles, bibs, onesies, a changing pad, and a double stroller—and charged the items on my last remaining credit card. But as I paid, Meg and Charlotte sneaked off and surprised me by purchasing some gorgeous and way too expensive blue toile crib bedding and a matching curtain for the small nursery window.

"We saw you admiring it," Meg said.

"Thank you, guys, so much," I said, accepting the gift. It was the kind of thing Rachel always did for me—generosity I had taken for granted in my selfish past.

"You're so welcome," they said, looking as happy as I felt.

I told them how lucky I felt to have such close friends in London.

Later that night, as Ethan and I put the finishing touches on the nursery, I thanked him again too.

He smiled and said, "You feel better now?"

"Yeah," I said. "I do."

He rested his arm on the edge of Baby A's crib. "See? It was nothing that a little shopping spree couldn't cure."

I laughed, and said that he was right. "Yeah. Nothing that a little blue toile couldn't fix."

But as I packed my bag for Geoffrey's, I had a strong suspicion that things weren't that simple.

* * *

twenty-eight


I had my epiphany on Valentine's Day.

It was my idea to go on another double date with Ethan and Sondrine. Although our first effort wasn't an overwhelming success, I wanted to give it another try. Geoffrey protested a bit, saying that he preferred to be alone with me. I told him that where I came from, Valentine's was a cheesy, amateur nonevent and therefore we had two options: blow it off altogether and order a pizza, or share the evening with another couple. I told him I wasn't going to be one of those silly couples sitting alone at a table, all dressed up and eagerly ordering off a jacked-up,

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