Signs of Life by Natalie Taylor Read Free Book Online

first outfit and am prepared to ooh and ahh and say mythank-you, but I quickly discover that the outfit is clipped to a piece of string, along with another outfit, then another, and another. The laundry line of baby clothes wraps around the entire room so that every single woman at the shower is holding an outfit attached to the clothesline. Everyone claps and gasps at Ashley’s generosity. She beams. “I went a little crazy!” She then announces to the crowd that she opened up a charge card at Baby Gap. Deedee turns to Aunt Kathy: “Did you hear that? She opened a
charge card
at Baby Gap. That’s
so
Ashley.” I am confused. I’m not quite sure whom the shower is for.
    The entire time Ashley sits next to me, cleaning up wrapping paper and organizing gifts. She tells me about every present I open, as if I would otherwise be clueless of its function if it weren’t for her. Ashley loves babies and children and desperately wants to have children, though at this point she isn’t dating anyone. Before she got a job as a wine rep, she spent several summers and postcollege months nannying for a family with a two-year-old boy and triplet baby girls. As a result, she feels qualified to speak to all things baby and children. It seems like everything I hand to her, she gives me her advice and finds it necessary to add in her own experiences with her children, which, again, weren’t really her children at all.
    “Hey, Nat, just so you know, all the girls had the Graco Snug-Ride car seat, and it was awesome because you can buy a separate base for your mom’s car if you want. Lynn! Lynn!”—she is now yelling across the room to my mother—“I just told Nat you can buy a separate base for this if you want!” Then “Hey Nat, I know they say to use Dreft detergent with baby stuff, but just so you know, they say that Tide detergent is the worst.” (Is it?) I smile and say thanks and try to keep my cool. No one wants to see a pregnant woman freak out at her own shower. But man, I sure am close.
    After the shower I sit and go through all the outfits by myself. The other week I went to breakfast with one of my co-workers, and she kept saying, “But really, you must be so
relieved
to be pregnant. What a blessing. I mean, you must be
thrilled
to be pregnant, despite everything else.” I just kept nodding and staring at my pancakes, but I couldn’t actually verbally agree with her. This is the most frightening thing in the world—to have a baby without my husband. I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. I have no idea what to expect or how to prepare. Am I thrilled? No. I’m downright scared. I’m scared and sad.
    I have no urge to go out and buy baby clothes. Ashley always seems more excited than me to have this baby, but maybe that’s more my fault than hers. My
fault
? Is that the right word?
Excited
? That can’t be the right word either. It’s just hard to be excited about anything right now. I am always thinking about Josh, and when I smile or laugh it never feels real. I can tell I’m faking it.
    •  •  •
    Although I go to my house for small increments of time, I am still living with my parents. No one is pressuring me to move back, but I know they all envision me moving back in at some point. I envision slapping a FOR SALE sign on the front lawn. Deedee suggests painting. She sees it as her mission to finish the nursery that Josh had started. I agree at first but only because I know it would make Deedee feel better, not because I am actually planning on moving in again.
    “Well, the first thing we’ll do is paint the ceiling white. Don’t you think, Nat?” She says this as I stand in the doorway of the nursery. She is standing so close to me when she says this I can feel her body touching mine. And it’s hot and humid inmy house, not to mention my body has a built-in furnace. Deedee is a close talker and a long hugger, and she kisses right on the lips. I am particular about my personal space, I