You're So Pretty On the Outside

I glanced around the store overwhelmed at everything. There were several aisles of toys, cribs, strollers and other baby products.

“How the hell are we going to find anything in here?” I asked.

Gena just shrugged. “Get a cart and go down every aisle?”

“I guess that works.”

We each grabbed a cart knowing that my shopaholic ways would eventually cause us to need an extra cart anyway. After going through the whole store, Gena and I had gathered up clothes, toys, and some other furniture for Grace.

“You know,” I started as we waited in line to pay, “I can’t even begin to explain how jealous I am that you can wear normal sized clothing.”

She chuckled lightly. “Don’t be jealous, Angel. Just remember, you’re glowing.”

“Glowing my ass,” I muttered.

-----------------

We needed so much stuff for the nursery that it seemed as if it would take the rest of my pregnancy to put everything together. Luckily Gena had recently found a boyfriend that was willing to help put everything together.

His name is John and I have to admit, he has the most amazing accent ever. It’s a mix between Welsh and Scottish and I can definitely see what drew my sister in to him. He’s sweet as hell, he’s got some great hair, and his accent makes you melt every time he opens his mouth. Gena laughed in my face when I told her that.

“You didn’t hold back at all did you?” John asked when we walked into the house.

I blushed and stuck my tongue out at him.

“The baby is going to need it all eventually. Why not buy it all while we were already out?”

“You’re honestly telling me that one baby needs an entire car full of clothing?”

“It’s not just clothes!” I corrected defensively. “There are toys, a high chair, a changing table, and bottles-“

John cut me off by waving his hand in my face.

“Alright, enough with the list. I’m going to start setting up. Are you going to help this time, Gena? Or am I going to have to sue you guys for slave labor?” he asked sarcastically.

As soon as the two lovebirds had unloaded everything from the car and moved it to the living room, I grabbed my keys and started walking to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Gena questioned.

“Ice cream. I need it.”

Without another word I waddled to my car and drove to the grocery store. Thankfully I had finally gotten used to driving on the wrong side of the road and everything so I didn’t even have to worry about it anymore.

I heaved myself out of the driver’s seat and made my way into the store. I rocked on my heels in front of the ice cream section wondering what kind I wanted before finally just grabbing three different kinds. I grabbed a package of plastic spoons and paid for everything. On the way back to my house, I pulled one of the ice cream containers into my lap, grabbed a spoon, and started eating.

I was still digging into the frozen treat when I walked into the living room.

“I’m back,” I announced.

“Seriously? You couldn’t have waited the five minutes it takes to drive back?” Gena questioned, laughing.

I just shook my head and continued eating.

“What kinds did you get?” John asked.

“Chocolate chip cookie dough, almond pistachio, and strawberry.”

I protested as he took the strawberry and Gena took the chocolate chip cookie dough leaving me with just my almond pistachio.

“I was going to eat that!” I called after them.

I huffed when they giggled from Gena’s room and sat down to mess around with some of the new baby toys.

“What are you doing?” John asked in a flat voice.

I glanced at him and Gena like a deer in the headlights and sent an innocent grin to them.

“I was just… organizing some of the stuff.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the kitchen still carrying my ice cream.

“You know you love me, Johnny boy!” I called after him.

I shrugged, not receiving a response, and began the long process of standing back up.

“Seriously, Anna? You aren’t even that big yet and you can barely get up.”

Gena sighed to herself and came over to help me stand.

“Not that big? I can’t even fit into my loosest pair of pre-baby clothes. Hell, even my bras are too small now. I’m not complaining about that part though, that’s fine, but the rest of it sucks.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Says the girl who cried when her hairstylist didn’t cut her hair short enough.”

“I didn’t get what I asked for.” She glared.

“That’s why they have a sign that says ‘Satisfaction guaranteed.’ You got your money back and it’s not like they cut it too short. All you had to do was ask them to take off a little bit more.”

“Yeah, well… Whatever,” she mumbled before joining John in the kitchen.

“I need to make some friends around here,” I said to myself with a sigh.