Jane Rizzoli
I watched Maura with a frown as she flitted around the baby boutique store, grabbing anything and everything that appealed to her high sense of taste, meaning anything that was expensive.
The store attendants happily helped Maura pick out everything from strollers to brightly colored onesies that matched the corresponding bonnets and blankets. Little Isa had, at first, enjoyed watching the two of us bicker about anything and everything but had decided around the second hour of being coddled by others to take a much-needed nap in my arms.
"Maura...c'mon. We don't need to buy fifteen kinds of baby formula. Just get the regular kind," I said tiredly, shaking my head at the growing pile of baby nonsense accruing in the basket. "All of this is unnecessary."
Maura turned her head and raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I'm just following the doctor's list he gave you of everything you're going to need."
"Does it say on his list that I need to get a," I looked over at the large box of the stroller, "collapsible carbon fiber stroller? Unless my baby is training to be a F1 driver, I really doubt she needs to be," I read the box description, "ensconced in mechanical excellence."
"Well...maybe your right about the stroller but children thrive in comfort, Jane. The Mayo Clinic did a prominent long-running study of the learning capabilities of children-"
"Stop. Just stop," I interrupted. "Maura, you're doing exactly what I told you to not do. You're getting attached. This isn't your child to spoil."
"So you think I'm spoiling her?" Maura gasped.
I shrugged half-heartedly, looking away from the hurt in Maura's hazel eyes. In my arms, Isa twitched her feet, releasing a slew of nonsensical baby-talk in her sleep. Holding Isa in my arms and seeing that unconditional love swirling in those big eyes made it increasingly difficult for me to protest any further.
"Jane," Maura whispered. "Don't worry about me. I went to medical school. I know what it means to keep one's distance and not get attached."
Before I could give a witty response, Isa squirmed fitfully in my arms as if caught in a nightmare. A small cry of displeasure came from her small lungs but it was soon cancelled out by a loud giggle of excitement upon opening her big eyes and taking in mines.
"Mama! Mama!" Isa exclaimed, grasping at my shirt eagerly. "Moo-moo. Moo-moo."
"Aww, she said moo-moo," Maura beamed.
"She wants milk, Maura."
"Oh no," Maura said. "What are you going to do?"
From my time babysitting my two younger brothers, I knew what this meant. Isa was hungry. Dammit, I had hoped we would be at home when it first occurred. Unless I started to spontaneously lactate, there was nothing I could do.
I moved quickly into action, trying desperately to remain calm for Isa's sake. If the baby felt my tension she would react accordingly with tears, crying, and squeals.
"Here, take her." I handed the squirming bundle over to Maura. "Go buy the stuff and I'll bring the car around."
"What if she cries?" Maura asked as I walked briskly out the door.
"Stay calm and she won't."
Maura looked down at Isa's beaming smile. "You'll be good for me, won't you?"
Isa nodded happily, seemingly understanding Maura's predicament. Quickly, she moved toward the salesclerk to buy all of the various items, hoping that Isa really could be a little bit more patient.
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