They came to every appointment.
They’d bought toys when they found out it was a girl. And two months before the birth, they had me over for dinner and walked me down the hall to show me the nursery.
It had pale green walls and a white crib with a mobile of tiny felt stars.
Melissa opened the top drawer of the changing table. It was full of folded dresses, so small they looked like doll clothes.
“I know it’s silly,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “I just couldn’t stop.”
It had pale green walls.
Ryan leaned in the doorway and smiled, but he didn’t come into the room. I remember thinking that was odd, and then I forgot about it.
If I’m being honest, there were small things. Little snags in the fabric.
Melissa was warm, but she’d text me at 11 at night to ask if I’d felt the baby move that day. Ryan started checking his phone during ultrasounds, tilting the screen away from his wife.
