Page 110 of Slap Shot Surprise
She was sitting on the couch with a gift-wrapped box on her lap, and her jaw fell open when she saw the two presents stacked in my arms. “Joe! What did you do?”
“It’s Christmas.” I sat down next to her, placing the gifts on the coffee table in front of us. “And only one of them is for you. One is for the baby.”
Shaking her head, she handed me the box on her lap. “You start. I have no idea if you’ll like this or not. Now I’m scared you won’t.”
“Stop. I’m sure I’ll like it.” I slipped the ribbon and bow from the gift and tore off the paper. Beneath it was a shirt box, and when I lifted the lid I discovered a gray shirt with some kind of giant pocket on the chest. I held it up by the shoulders in front of me.
“It’s a kangaroo shirt for dads,” she said. “The pouch is for the baby.”
“It is?” I’d never seen anything like this.
“Yes. It’s so you can carry him close to you without a sling or anything. My brothers said this brand is the best. But you don’t have to use it if you?—”
“No, I love it,” I told her. “I just had no idea this was a thing, wearing your baby in a shirt.”
She laughed. “It’s supposed to help babies bond with dads. He’ll be calmed by the contact with your body and your heartbeat and your smell.”
I tried to imagine feeling comfortable walking around with the little guy tucked inside this pouch on my chest and couldn’t, but I would try. “Thank you,” I said, laying it back in the box. “I love it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Okay, your turn. Let’s start with the one for the baby.” I reached for the package on top and handed it to her.
She unwrapped it, and when she opened the box, she gasped. “Oh my God!” One by one, she lifted out the tiny crocheted helmet, jersey, hockey pants, and black and white bootie skates. The jersey had the Chicago logo on the front and the helmet had my number on it. “I’m going to cry! This is so adorable!”
“I saw the idea online,” I said, smiling because she looked so happy. “I couldn’t resist.”
“I love it. I can’t wait to show these to Ari.” She carefully placed all the pieces back in the box and replaced the lid.
“Speaking of Ari...” I handed her the last box. It was a light brown shoe box, tied with a red satin ribbon. “I had a little help from her with this next one.”
She untied the bow and gasped when she saw the label on the box: Christian Louboutin. Her hands flew to her cheeks. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“Open it,” I said eagerly.
Gingerly, she lifted the top off the box, like she was scared a snake might jump out. When she saw the black patent leather heels with the bright red sole, she squealed. “Joey Lupo! You did!”
She’d covered her entire face with her hands, so she couldn’t see how I smiled at the use of my family’s childhood name for me. “You said on the plane the day we met you were so practical, you’d never even bought a pair of designer shoes. I asked around and was told these are the ones to have.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” Lifting one shoe from the box, she admired its spiky heel, shiny leather and candy-apple bottom. “They’re so beautiful. How did you even know my size?”
“I had to do a little research. I asked Gianni if he knew how I could get Ari’s number, and he came through.”
“Ari knew about this?” Her voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. “I can’t believe her! She didn’t say a word to me!”
“Don’t be mad at her. She was sworn to secrecy.”
“I knew she was up to something when I saw her yesterday. She had this smug look on her face like she knew something I didn’t.” She sighed, rubbing the side of one shoe against her cheek. “I love them. But they’re too nice for me.”
“They were made for you. You deserve them.”
“I went the opposite way and got you something overly practical.”
“That just means we’re a good team.”
She laughed, replacing the shoe in the box and setting it on the table. “Stiletto heels are definitely impractical for a pregnant woman. But I’m going to wear the hell out of them after this baby is born.”
“Good.”
