“Dan—” my mom grabs his arm before he can move away “—if you fall asleep in the store I’m leaving your ass here.”
My dad turns to me. “Marriage summed up in one sentence.”
I laugh and stand. “This is cute for a boy,” I say, pointing to a navy and white bedding set with pops of orange. It’s decorated with cute little giraffes.
“Do you have a theme in mind?” my mom asks.
“Not yet. This is nice too.” I point at a gender-neutral option in shades of beige and gray. “Ooh, and this.” I pick up a pale pink set with little gray stars. Tears well in my eyes, and I inhale a deep breath. “I wish Ben was here.”
“I know,” my mom says, resting her hand on my shoulder. “We all do.”
And then I turn to my left and Ben is here. Not in the physical sense, of course, but he’s here. I move toward the crib, my tears falling freely now as I gaze at the mobile above it. Paper cranes.
I reach up and touch one of the folded white birds. “I want this,” I say. “I’m getting it.” I look around hastily for someone to come help me, like as if someone’s going to snatch the mobile down from the ceiling and run away with it.
When my eyes meet my mom’s I see that she has tears in her eyes too. “It’s perfect,” she breathes. “I think you found your nursery theme.”
A clerk must see my desperation because one soon appears. “I want this,” I tell her, pointing at the mobile. I don’t ask her how much it costs or anything like that. It doesn’t matter to me. I have to have it.
“Of course.” She smiles. “Let me check in the back for that. The last time I looked there was only one left and it’s being retired so we won’t get any more.”
“I’ll take the display if I have to,” I tell her, desperation lacing my tone.
She winces. “I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to sell displays. Let me go look in the back, though.” She all but runs away from me before I can grab her arm and beg and plead for the mobile.
I look to my mom with panic in my eyes. “Mom—” I begin.
“Don’t worry about it,” she tells me, holding up a hand. “We’ll figure something out.” She’s already on her phone, probably Googling paper crane mobiles.
I want this one, though. With the different colored paper cranes—white, cream, and gray—and waterfall style it’s beautiful and I want it to be mine. It feels like a sign it, being here. I haven’t found a note from Ben in a while, and I feel like he guided me to this because he knew I needed him.
Before I can have a full-blown panic attack the clerk returns with a large cardboard box. “It’s still here,” she cries with joy. She was probably afraid I’d hit her or something if they didn’t have it.
I take the box from her and hug it to my chest like it’s a person. I feel a single tear wet the box.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “You have no idea how much this means to me. No idea,” I repeat.
She looks from me to my parents and there seems to be some sort of understanding passed through all of us.
“Come on, let’s get you checked out.” She smiles and leads me over to the register. “If you like the paper crane theme,” she begins, “I can look around and see if we can find some bedding for you.” she suggests.
I nod eagerly. “That’d be amazing. Thank you.”
She rings up the mobile and I hand over my card.
“Do you want it in a bag?” she asks, giving me back my credit card.
“If you have one big enough,” I say. “It’s no trouble if you don’t.”
“There should be some right here.” She clucks her tongue as she searches. “Aha, here you go.” She stands up from behind the counter with a large bag and slips it over the box. “I’m Stephanie, ask for me if you come back.”
“I will.” I take my bag and meet my parents at the front of the store. They start to head back the way we came, presumably to leave, but I point in the opposite direction. “Why don’t we look around for a little while?”
They both stare at me in surprise and then my mom breaks out into a grin. “Of course, you lead the way.”
There’s a clothing store I love in the mall, but I haven’t been there in months. I head inside and straight to a jean jacket with fraying edges. “Ooh, I like this,” I say more to myself than them.
I see them exchange a look, but I ignore it. I know I haven’t been this exuberant about anything in months. I pick up a few shirts in a larger size—preparing for the belly I’ll soon have, and get some dresses since summer will be here in no time and all the good stuff gets picked over.
“We can go home now,” I announce when I’m done.
“Maybe we should go out to eat?” my mom suggests. “Get some lunch?”
I have to laugh to myself. Her main concern is always whether or not I’m eating. “Sure,” I say.
They both look surprised that I agreed so quickly.
“Where would you like to eat?” she asks me. “Any preferences.”
“Um … Red Lobster?” I ask. “I could really go for some biscuits right about now.”