Disclaimer: See part one

Thanks to Karen and Arian, my two brand new betas. They are the best. Fast, honest and great email pen pals.

The first day I met them was actually my first day on the job. I had no idea about furniture, bottles, clothes or anything else we sell at our store. I had been so nervous I kept near the bathrooms. I had already lost my breakfast twice that morning. It was doubtful I would last through the day.

Now with hindsight, I know I shouldn't have worried. Our customers either have even less knowledge than I did at that time, or are so hormone driven that they don't care. I also know that there is always an exception to the rule.

My very first customer was a young man. He came straight up to me, started to ask a question about a stroller, just to stop midsentence to leave for the men's room. I thought he had eaten something bad. Now I know that he was probably a first time father.

My second customer was a woman in her mid-thirties. She asked me where she would find booties. I had no idea and was about to tell her so, when she discovered them herself. Second aisle to the right. And off she was, buying a present for somebody she knew. No way was that woman a mother. She just screamed career woman, no signs of any mother instinct. Yet.

My third customer was a young couple. It was as obvious as a red stop sign that she was very pregnant. My first thought at that time was: 'Note to myself: where is the nearest phone to call an ambulance in case she pops?' Second thought: 'What do I know about first aid and playing midwife? Nothing! Second note to myself: rent movies where women have babies on the road.' They never noticed that I was of so little help. They were just plain happy. That was the couple who convinced me to stay put till after lunch.

And during lunch I met my fourth customer(s). They were the kind of couple who always make me a little bit sad. They just walk through the aisles, holding hands as if their happiness depended on it. The worst part is the longing in their eyes. The wishfull stroke over a pair of onesies, the hidden movement to wisk away a tear that dared to escape. The knowledge that their wishes might not come true. They were that kind of couple. They left soon after they came. The woman's military uniform showed clearly that she was definitely not pregnant.

They came back though. A couple of months later. Now they cruised through the isles holding hands, their happiness pouring from their faces. By now I had a bit more experience judging people in baby stores, and this couple had the most expressive eyes. They didn't talk much. They were touching a lot, either holding hands, or, when forced to walk behind each other, one of them would touch the other's back. As often as they could, they stared into each other's eyes, forgetting the world around them. So much that he almost walked into a crib, before becoming aware of his suroundings again.

She didn't show yet, but there were clear signs. Her longing look at a coffee cup being held by another customer. Her dead sprint to the bathroom after smelling some food through an opened door. His proud grin at hearing someone retching in the lady's room. Only expectant fathers are happy to hear their partners throwing up. He knew enough though to wipe the smile of his face once she reappeared, showing sincere concern. She just waved away his concern, saying something to which he replied with a mind blowing smile. Good thing I was holding onto the display rack.

You could often see them coming during the lunch hour. Mostly together, sometimes alone, always just to look. Soon, she was showing, and then later it was hard to miss that she was pregnant. The time came when I had to eye her critically, the location of the phone, and the fastest route to it, always in the back of my mind. And yet, they were still just looking, not buying anything.

And then they bought one onesy. One single onesy, the smallest pack of diapers, and that was it. Nothing more. And the baby was definitley ready to enter the world.

It was also then that I noticed her engagement ring. She was resting her hand comfortably on her large stomach, involuntary showing off her ring. It was the kind of ring everyone dreams of having on her own finger. I only knew of one store where they still make that kind of ring here in D.C. A good friend has been working there forever.

She was born on a Friday, December the 13th. On the night of the worst first winter blizzard Washington D.C. had ever seen. I know because I had to fight my way through mountains of snow to get to work. My boss didn't believe in closing because of a 'little bit' of snow. There wasn't a single customer all day long.

I was ready to close up for the day when I saw him getting out of his car. I opened the door once he was close enough. I had to lean with all my weight into it to force it shut, the wind was blowing so heavily. No sooner was that accomplished than I knew there was new daddy standing infront of me.

He appeared to be scared to death, insanely happy and utterly overwhelmed with his emotions.

"Congratulations, sir."

He flashed that awesome grin of his in my direction, beaming with pride.

"A girl or a boy?"

"A girl. Sarah Anna Mackenzie Rabb. Sam for short. 22.5 inches and 9 pounds."

That was quite big for a baby. Looking at the tall man infront of me, I chose to belive it.

"When was she born?"

"10 hours, seven minutes and..." here his eyes flashed to the tall grandfather clock we have in our store, "43 seconds."

What a day to be born. In the mother of all storms.

"Why are you here today, sir?"

"We don't have much baby stuff at home." Guess what, you have to buy the stuff, not just look at it.
"What do you need?"
I expected a shoulder shrug, at best a very incomplete list of the things really needed.

"Okay, diapers, lots of them. Some onesies, but we already have a few from our friends. Baby wipes, powder, lotion, shampoo, thermometer and carseat. Ten bottles with this special kind of nipple. A couple of pacifiers. A breast pump, I wrote the brand down my wife wants to use. I think that is all."

Trying to be helpful I supplied some missing pieces. "You need a crib, sir, and a stroller." "We already have a stroller, office gift. And we definitley don't need a crib." "How so?" "I made one myself."

Now I was impressed. The guy knew what to buy, thought about almost everything and even made a crib all by himself? Wow, too sad he was already taken. Working in a babystore is not a place to meet eligible men.

"What about formula?"

"My wife is breast feeding. The bottles are just there so that I can take over some late night wake up calls. Hence the pump."

Too good to be true.

"Why didn't you buy the basic stuff before the birth?"
Damn, my curiosity is going to kill me one day.

"Friends of ours lost their baby during delivery. We both didn't want to come back to a house full of baby stuff in such a case. My wife had a difficult pregnancy. And we want to buy stuff for a person who is already here. We didn't know the sex so we decided to do most of the shopping later."

With a baby that size, that was a smart decision. They could jump straight to clothes for two month old babies.

"The most important thing, though, was, that I wanted to surprise my wife with the crib."

As I already said, too good to be true.

We got everything he had listed on his mental shopping list. When he bent over to sign the credit card receipt, I saw a Polaroid picture tucked into his breast pocket. He noticed my eyes on it and pulled it out. The loving look on his face melted my heart while he looked at the picture before showing it to me. Piercing blue eyes looked back at me from the picture. A mass of dark hair was showing under a white little hat. Everything else was tucked away in the fluffiest blue blanket you could imagine. It was one of the cutest babies I have ever seen. And you get to see lots of babies working in a baby store.

As I said, it was just too good to be true.