Page 126 of Power Move

“Well, you will want to order a crib. Are you what… thirty weeks along?”

Twenty,” I answered. “Twins. Two boys. Two big, healthy boys that are measuring ahead for twins.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. No wonder you all are so busy. Twins are wonderful, but also a hit to the pocketbook right out of the gate. We have a variety of price points?—”

She stopped, her demeanor changed as Davey returned holding a dress fit for a toddler and a sack of fancy organic cotton burp cloths. She went from assuming I sought bargain bin options to realizing we had money. Davey got a completely different reception than his average-looking girlfriend. I hated it.

“No to the dress. She’s a newborn—and a tiny one at that,” I said. “Get her practical things. Your sister isn’t fussy. The cloths are a good choice.”

“She’s a girl. Aren’t you supposed to want to dress them up?”

I snickered. “Davey, she’s a girl, not a princess. Babies are basically all the same. You don’t know what Daphne plans. She may want to lean into gender neutral. I know I do. I want absolutely nothing to do with superheroes or sports shit.”

“Not even the Cubs?” Davey asked, wounded. “Or football?”

“You don’t even care about the Bears!”

“No. Premier League and our team, babe.”

“Our team?”

“We own a minors team,” Davey said. “You didn’t get this in the presentation?”

“What presentation?”

“Onboarding.”

“To the family?”

“To the company! Jesus. I paid a fucking fortune to have that video made. The last president called it ‘essential’, and they aren’t even doing it!? Damn.”

The old woman awkwardly stared in confusion.

“Well, the more you know,” I sighed. “This is not a today discussion. Today, we need a crib, car seats, and a stroller. That’s it.”

“A crib for sure. They can take a bit to arrive—they come custom, you know? The good news is a travel crib or bassinet will do for the first few months just fine.”

“Months? You don’t have anything just… in the back?” I asked.

“Eva, we don’t want some stock crib. We want something nice,” Davey insisted.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a crib, not an heirloom hutch.”

“You can pass them on to future children when they are well made.”

“See,” Davey said.

Was he really implying I should do this all over? Was he insane?

I shook my head. “I don’t even know where to begin there. Let’s look at what they have.”

Davey and I quickly agreed on minimalist cribs to match the aesthetic of the house—all in a beautiful barely-there blue that the woman tried to talk us out of since we might someday have a girl. I assured her a blue crib wouldalsowork for a girl. When it came to strollers and car seats, Davey immediately glommed onto a gigantic SUV-size stroller with two car seats priced the same as an economy car. I was too tired to debate him and figured if I hated it, I could buy something else in a few months.We needed car seats that could handle sub-six pounders more than anything, so we bit the bullet.

Davey didn’t bat an eye at the more than ten grand we dropped even if I about fell over at the cost. It was hard to consider how little we’d gotten for so much and how he worried even less about it. I still didn’t understand these people, their habits, and what even drove them. Worrying I’d never fit in—or that he’d never accept the real me, we put everything in the back of his SUV and drove back to the city. I fought tears the entire way. At the time, I couldn’t explain it, but I felt like with every tie binding me and every purchase made, I left a life behind—the one I thought I’d have.

Davey

Precious Cordelia Alma delighted everyone. Mum had never looked happier than when holding a baby in her arms. Eva came out of her shell—smiling for the first time in seemingly ages—as she held Daphne and Cal’s daughter. Everyone perked up, but I struggled. It wasn’t the baby. She was wonderful. It was so much more, and I lacked words.