Page 99 of The Wedding Forecast

We haven’t spoken since the fight at the wedding. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without speaking to Joel since I met him almost ten years ago. I still think about him, almost involuntarily. Sometimes I’ll read an article and I’ll want to share it with him before I have time to correct the thought, or I’ll find myself having an argument with him in my head. I have thought about him and Bianca and the baby. Whose house did they go to at Christmas, did they pass the baby around or was Joel too worried about germs, did they get so many gifts for her that they don’t know what to do with them all. I went back and forth on whether I should reach out to him after Birdie was born, and I decided on no. Now it feels like I should have.

‘Can I help you to find something?’ I say. Best to just go into customer-service mode.

I want to say something about the pram, about the baby I am assuming is inside it, the literal baby elephant in the room. But it’s his baby, he should say something first. That’s an etiquette rule with exes, surely. He needs to introduce me.

‘I was looking for a book. Bobbi was ordering it in for me. A while ago. I forgot to come in and pick it up. I’m not getting much sleep.’ He looks nervous, saying this, referencing the existence of the baby.

‘Oh right. Um. Congratulations.’ I smile the biggest smile I can before he will question my sincerity, and gesture to the pram. Show her to me, then, I think. Maybe she won’t be cute.

‘Thank you,’ he says. He moves the pram a little, starting to turn it towards me, and then looks at my face, as if trying to discern whether I’m having a breakdown or not.

‘I’d love to meet her,’ I say, since he seems to need encouragement. Meet her? Do you meet babies?

‘She’s asleep. But you can look in,’ he says.

I walk around the counter and peer in. She’s tiny, wrapped up in a pink blanket, scrunched face, full head of Joel’s thick black hair. The most perfect nose. My heart hurts.

‘She’s so beautiful,’ I say. My voice, thankfully, doesn’t waver.

‘She is,’ he says.

She moves then, twitching, and makes a loud grunting kind of noise, and Joel looks as startled as I feel.

‘This is my first solo outing with her,’ he says to me sheepishly. ‘She’s six weeks old. Bianca’s having a nap. It feels sort of illegal that I’m allowed to be outside with her on my own. Like I can’t believe I have a baby.’

I open my mouth to reply. He’s smiling, wanting to share the feeling with me, and I understand it, because that’s how I would feel too. But I’m not doing this, I’m not sharing this moment with him.

‘Birdie is a beautiful name,’ I say, to change the subject, and I do think this, but I’m also being a little bit of a bitch. I want him to know I know about the name. I want him to worry that I think it’s ridiculous. I want to punish him for making me feel like this. I want to remind him he vetoed the name Stevie.

‘Thank you. It’s Bianca’s choice, but it’s grown on me. It suits her,’ he grins, leaning into the pram to touch her cheek with the back of his finger, and, oh, I see it, how tender he is with her, how much he loves his baby, how much he loves being a dad, how much he doesn’t care what I think of her name.

‘So,’ I say. ‘The book.’

I walk back behind the counter and rummage in the shelf for orders until I find it. I take longer than I need to, so my cheeks will cool down and my hands will stop trembling and I can swallow down my feelings. It’s a parenting book.

‘We’re a bit clueless,’ Joel smiles, looking at it.

‘This one is meant to be the best,’ I say, though I have no idea. I hesitate. ‘Did you want to look at any of the picture books?’ I say. I might be walking away from this interaction with a shredded soul but damn it, I’m going to upsell him. He is not getting out of here spending less than sixty dollars if it kills me.

‘Oh.’ Joel pauses. ‘Yes. Maybe I should.’

‘You know what the studies show.’

‘What do they show?’ He frowns. Joel is easy to bait with any mention of ‘studies’. Although he’ll probably want to know what journal it was published in, when it was published and the methodology used.

‘The more books you surround your child with, the more successful they’ll be in life. And it starts when they’re babies. I know correlation doesn’t mean causation but…’

‘I better look at the picture books then,’ he says, smiling.

I hand him The Gruffalo, Where Is the Green Sheep? and Magic Beach. The more expensive hardcover version of each.

‘Start with these.’

He dutifully adds them to the parenting book on the counter.

‘And what about some cute socks for Bianca?’ I add. Now I’m pushing my luck. I hold up a hot-pink pair that say ‘Prose over bros’ and Joel gives me a long, pained look.

‘Okay, I’ll get those too,’ he sighs.