Romance One Shots

Isn't it Cliché

Description

Candace and Caleb are busy decorating a nursery for their closest friends when they find a photo album with memories of a very special day—the day everything changed and their cliché story began.

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My eyes lit up as the steel blue carpet finally peeked through the disarray. Things were coming together at last. Caleb groaned from the other side of the room. "Babe, I'm exhausted!" He put down the screwdriver, the white baby crib fully constructed in front of him.

"Just help me take the trash out and I'll take care of the rest."

He squinted. "How do you even have that much stamina? We've been at this for hours."

I shrugged. "I do this on a daily basis, remember? You get used to it."

He rolled his eyes but still got up to pick up the empty card boxes and plastic wrappers laying around. "Thank God I'm not the one going around decorating houses. Definitely not cut out for the job. Why aren't we charging them for this again? I've worked way too hard not to get money out of it."

"Oh, shut it. They are our friends." I threw some of the plastics at him so he could put them in the recycling bin. "Besides this was all your idea in the first place."

He caught them with ease and stepped out of the room. "No one said you had to agree. So, technically, this is all your fault."

Such a drama queen. I bet inside he was actually proud of the outcome.

Walking in this morning, the room was empty white. Now, there was a pastel blue and white striped feature wall, a crib, drawers, a closet, a comfy grey couch, curtains that did almost nothing to muffle the light of day, Maria's paintings...

My chest bubbled. The room gained a cozy brightness and all thanks to everything our friends had bought and Caleb's efforts to build the furniture.

Maria and Lucas were so going to freak out.

And despite Caleb's whining, he was probably just as excited as I was to see their reactions.

A loud thump caught my attention. Caleb hunched over the two boxes to unstack them. "These are the last boxes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking a much-deserved break in the living room."

"Okay," I called out.

Fuzzy material peeked from one of the boxes and I opened it further. Toys, clothes, among other things the expecting couple had already bought for the baby. I placed some of the plush animals on the crib and stored the rest away.

The second box dragged against the carpet. I took the small frame on top first and turned it around. A shot of Maria and Lucas's honeymoon in Hawaii. The setting sun tinged their white flower necklaces with hues of red and orange. The landscape was beautiful but what really stood out were their serene expressions, partially hidden by their touching foreheads.

I grabbed the next one, bigger, but barely big enough to include the couple and all the family and pets on Christmas. My lips pulled up as four generations lined up, dressed in the same red, green and white pajamas with big smiles on their faces.

One by one, I placed the frames around the room, filling it with the joyous memories of the past—of them, their family, our friends. Soon, the little boy approaching would take part in them too.

Looking around, warmth filled me to the brim.

Cue the victory dance.

I hunched to flatten the boxes but there was still a white object on the bottom of the second one. Its size took almost the entire bottom of the carton and the weight matched the dimensions. The leather surface didn't feel foreign, but it was only the intricate gold lettering that made it down.