Page 65 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
“I look forward to meeting you,” I said as Harper turned the phone back to herself.
“Hey, thanks for all this. We can figure out food when we meet up later. I’m going to text you the address. It’s in Warwick, about fifteen or twenty minutes from your house.” Harper’s eyes drifted to beyond the phone. “I’m sorry, Lincoln. I have to go. There’s a customer that needs my help.”
“Okay. See you later.”
She nodded and waved goodbye as we hung up.
I grabbed a mug and filled it with freshly-brewed coffee and added some cream and sugar. As soon as it hit my mouth, I held back a wince. Even with my additions it still didn’t taste right.
I was used to my fancy coffee maker at home in LA that brewed cappuccinos and anything else I wanted. I needed to order one for here, too. I’d make sure Harper could make a cup of tea with it since she was watching her caffeine intake.
I added sugar to my coffee and fixed myself a bowl of cereal, then chuckled at the cartoon tiger on the front of the box. Harper had teased me when she saw all the sugary cereals I’d loaded my house up with. It was one of my few vices. My uncle hated any food that didn’t have some health benefit or another. Which was probably why he still looked like he was in his late forties when he was nearing sixty-five.
I strode down the hallway from the kitchen to my office to order the coffee maker I liked so it could arrive by tomorrow.
I opened the screen to my laptop and realized Harper was still signed into her vlog and that the video had been posted an hour ago. Most of the comments were thoughtful and sweet. Just what Harper deserved.
A few people made nasty comments about why she didn’t show her face. Heat raced through my body, and my hands clenched into fists. I wanted to track those people down and make them remove their comments.
I knew trolls were everywhere once you put something out for the public to view. I could handle it, but I didn’t want Harper to have to. Instinct made me want to delete those comments, so she didn’t see them, but before I could, I noticed her loyal fans had jumped all over those negative ones. Shaming those people, letting them know they were not needed in this space.
As the video played, Harper’s angelic, lilting voice washed over me. It was hard to believe she didn’t have any formal training beyond chorus in school. She said she and her sisters must have inherited their ability from their mom, who also had a beautiful voice.
Once her video finished, I pulled up a new tab and searched Amazon for the coffee maker I wanted. I’d placed my order and was about to log out when I noticed today’s special deals.
A diaper bag.We probably needed one of those, right?
I clicked on the picture, and the next page opened with all different sizes, shapes, colors of diaper bags.How do you pick the right one?Each one was more elaborate than the last.
I backed out of that screen. A cute stuffed giraffe caught my eye on the next one, and I quickly added it to my cart. Not knowing what else a baby needed, I searched the internet for the top ten baby items. Before I knew it, my cart was full of soft baby books, an infant bathtub, hooded bath towels, onesies, pacifiers, a first aid kit, and any other random thing the lists I looked at said to get.
My head was spinning.Did we need any of this? Was it too early or too late to buy this stuff? And when did they start making hooded towels a thing?Before I could second guess myself, I clicked on the checkout button. I could always send everything back if I needed to.
I let out a deep breath and wondered what Harper would think of my purchases. I was already questioning all the selections I made. What did I know about any of this?
Maybe I should cancel the order?
My phone buzzed. Harper had sent me a list of furniture her sisters needed to be tagged right away. They had a crew coming early tomorrow to pick it up. They moved fast and were doing a fantastic job getting rid of the furniture. I needed to remember to write a good review for them.
I looked at my watch. It was close to noon. If I wanted to get to the appointment on time, I needed to get the tagging done now.
***
IPULLED INTO THE PARKINGlot. The place where Harper scheduled our ultrasound, Beautiful Bellies, was easy to find. Harper had messaged me when she arrived early. She had asked the staff about any back entrances I might use. It was sweet of her to think of that. They didn’t have one but reassured her that keeping the privacy of their clients was of the utmost importance.
With my sunglasses on and a ball cap pulled low, most people wouldn’t recognize me right away anyway. I’d let my beard fill in more instead of the light scruff most directors wanted me to have.
I texted Harper.
Me: Hey, pretty lady, I’m here.
Harper: Come right in. Isn’t this place adorable? I’ve already signed up for their childbirth class too.
I got out of my car and surveyed the parking lot. There were only a few cars in front of the little yellow ranch-style house. It seemed more like someone’s home than a place to get an ultrasound. My eyes darted around to be sure I was alone.
Me: It is. Be right in.
It took me a second to realize I was automatically scanning for paparazzi. It was harder to escape them back home in LA, but here in Rhode Island, I was flying under the radar pretty well.
