Page 93 of Mad About Yule

“It would have helped if the instructions were written in anything like English. Just pictures would have been fine, too.” He taps one boot over the page of single-spaced instructions. “But those were worthless.”

They read like they’d been washed through a few different language translators. “Use the main tool to rotate the piece head. Couldn’t be clearer.”

“Rowan loves the crib, though.”

Yeah, he didn’t have much choice there, whipped as he is.

“This room used to be cool.” A year ago, he had a mini-man cave with an expensive gaming set up, his vintage Lego collection, and his prized Galaxy Quest poster signed by the cast. Now, it’s soft and muted, with a crib, a dresser with a soft pad on top, and a rocker. There’s a plush blue rug on the floor and a lamp that barely throws off light.

At least the Legos are still here. He installed narrow picture shelves around the room to display his old mini-figures.

A stuffed giraffe slumps in one corner, waiting to be loved by the room’s future occupant. Maybe in a year or so, when we know what he likes, I’ll ask Hope to paint the little man’s lovey for Caleb and Rowan.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks.

Because a big brother can never let a guy have a minute.

“Just thinking that I’m going to be an uncle. Feels strange.”

Now he’s the one wearing a goofy smile. “Just wait until you try ondaddy.”

I do not think about creating a nursery with Hope. I do not think about her pregnant with our child. And I absolutely do not picture her holding a baby in a room just like this.

I do not.

My heart squeezes with crazy, never before heard of wants anyway.

“Are you ready for it?” I ask.

“Who is, right? I don’t know if I’m ready, but I know I want it.” He takes another drink of his beer. “Are you out of your dating slump yet?”

How to answer? I just had a brief but vivid vision of a woman bearing my child, and I haven’t taken her on a date yet. Does that make me invested or a creep? Little from column A, little from column B.

“Hopefully here soon.”

“Anyone in mind?”

I feel like Indiana Jones trying to navigate my steps across a booby-trapped floor, knowing if I put one foot out of line, I’m sunk. Caleb’s not a gossip, but after the way Hope shied away from my kiss this afternoon, it doesn’t feel right to say much about her. I’m not entirely sure she’d want me to say anything at all.

“There’s someone, but we’re keeping things quiet.”

His brows drop into a scowl. “Is she married?”

Beer goes down my windpipe, and I have to cough it out like a lunatic. I wipe my face and glare at my brother. “No! Why would you think that?”

“Why would you keep things a secret?”

I don’t like that word, and I likebeingthat word even less. “It’s not a secret, it’s just early. She doesn’t want the town to talk about it.”

He goes on watching me until I have to change position on the floor. “I don’t like it, okay? But I’m trying to let her take the lead here.”

Lord knows I’ve tried to steamroll her on enough already.

“How early?” Caleb asks.

I’ve lost the thread of our conversation. His brief accusation I would date a married woman kind of threw me off. “What?”

“How early is this relationship?”

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