Chapter Ten
Carter was an organized person. She liked to plan and make lists and have every possibility covered thoroughly before she started anything. Many people, friends included, had indicated that her organizational habits bordered on slightly obsessive. Carter was well aware of their criticism, however, she believed strongly in the power of efficiency and level-headed decision making and found that being able to drop off her dry cleaning, get her car washed, stop at the bank, and complete her grocery shopping in under an hour was well worth any flack she might face for being a planner.
She had a vague understanding, based entirely on Jack's insistence on bringing a bag full of back up baby parts, that having a baby with her at the grocery store could feasibly slow the process. She also decided that having another adult present would cancel out any lag due to the presence of said baby.
Carter, unfortunately, had not adequately planned for the idea that not only would the inclusion of Jack and Cheyenne slow the process unfathomably, but also that Jack's over-packed bag would not actually contain enough supplies.
Carter was blocking the cart's path while Jack tried to get past her. The baby, who'd burned through both bottles, the change of clothes, and all but one of the diapers, was screaming her adorable little head off while Jack and Carter continued their standoff. Carter knew it was a good thing that neither of them was armed because it was quite likely that they would have shot each other given the opportunity.
After two and a half hours in the store, Cheyenne's blatant unhappiness was perfectly understandable. Carter was contemplating screaming herself. Since their arrival, Jack had overridden every decision and suggestion she'd made, insisting that he knew better than her what she needed in her house and what food she liked to eat. And really, perhaps because of the desperation that only a screaming baby can produce, his declaration that she was switching brands of paper towels that day had pushed her over the edge. She liked her paper towels because the little flower design exactly matched the wallpaper in her kitchen. And while she thought that was a perfectly valid reason to continue using her brand, she found herself completely unable and unwilling to explain it to Jack. She just couldn't bring herself to tell her CO that she like the little blue flowers. Instead, she held her ground with her foot planted on the overflowing cart.
"You're just trying to take Daniel's spending spree out on me. Go torture him."
"Carter, we have a baby. We're going to need paper towels. Lots of them. These are cheaper."
Legitimately, he had a point. And if the argument had started on the paper products, she would have conceded the point. But it had started with the opposite end of the store, with him declaring that the bread he always bought tasted than the bread she'd been eating for over thirty years, and had continued up and down every aisle in between. The only thing left between them and the check out line was the paper towel decision, so Carter had to make a stand.
Carter put her paper towels on top of the cart for the fifth or sixth time. "When you like in your house, you can buy whatever the hell you want. When you live in my house, you'll buy what I want."
"Your daughter is crying and you're fighting with me over paper towels. Maybe you should let it go." He reached for the paper towels to put them back, pausing slightly when Carter started to growl.
Just in time, another couple happened by. The man grinned at Jack, possibly deciding because of the presence of a baby in his own cart render his suggestions valid. "Unless you want to sleep on the couch, I'd let her pick whatever she wants."
Jack was going to glare at him and tell him to mind his own business. Carter was going to mention that Jack was going to be sleeping much further away than the couch. But the woman leaned over the carrier and peered at Cheyenne. "Oh, she's precious!"
Carter was on the verge of plugging her ears. "Doesn't sound so precious at the moment."
"How old is she?" The woman was smiling happily, seeming to not even notice that Cheyenne's water works had started up her own child's.
Jack, distracted from the paper towels, beamed proudly. "Four days."
The woman looked at Carter suspiciously. "How on Earth did you get back in shape so fast?"
The choice of words made Carter grin. Her eyes darted up to meet Jack's and saw that he was fighting the same smile. Carter looked back at the woman. "The Earth had nothing to do with it." The other couple looked at each other strangely as Jack and Carter laughed.
Fearing they might ask what that meant, Jack abandoned the paper towel fight and pushed the cart out of the aisle. Carter followed him, grinning contentedly that her choice was still in the basket.
As soon as they were out of hearing range, Jack stopped and turned on Carter. "I can't believe you said that."
Carter reached for Cheyenne, trying to soothe her into quieting down. "What was I supposed to say?"
"Why didn't you just tell them our buddy Thor made her for us?"
"Then they would have thought we were crazy."
"As opposed to what they think of us now?"
Carter winced at both Cheyenne's obvious misery and Jack's valid argument. "So they think we're crazy. We don't know them."
Jack reached for Cheyenne, trying his hand at quieting her, and had, to Carter's amusement, the same amount of luck. "Are we finished?"
Carter was pretty sure he had no idea he'd been unsuccessful in the thwarting of her paper towel purchase and she felt no desire to remind him. "I think so."
"Ok, good." He replaced the baby in the carrier and joined the line to check out. "Maybe she'll settle down in the car. Charlie always liked the car."
"Really?" She'd heard something to that effect somewhere, something about babies liking the motion, but she'd never had the chance to measure its validity. She grinned when she saw the dismay on Jack's face as he finally noticed the paper towels.
He sighed and started laying items on the counter. "Yeah, driving around always put him right to sleep." His mouth curved upward in a smile as he remembered good times. Carter didn't say anything because she didn't want to remind him of the bad ones. And as much fun as they were having playing family for the day, she didn't want to remind him that they weren't one.
By the time they'd paid what Carter considered a staggeringly inordinate amount of money on groceries and got them loaded in the truck, Cheyenne was sound asleep. Carter stared at her, unsure why she'd had to carry on the whole time they were in public.
She looked at Jack. "So what was that?"
He shrugged. "That was why you don't take four day olds to the store?"
The two of them stood there with the empty cart and stared at the sleeping baby. Carter nudged Jack. "Why don't you put her in the truck?"
Jack shook his head. "No way. If she wakes up and starts crying, you'll say it was my fault."
"Well, I'm not going to do it." Carter crossed her arms over her chest and wondered how they could move the car seat into the truck with the least possible disruption to whatever it was that had gotten her back to sleep. "You're the one with all the experience."
Jack grinned. "And my experience is that you let sleeping babies lie."
Carter smirked. "That had better be the last time you compare my daughter to a dog."
"But I like dogs."
"Do you want to be fed to one?"
Jack's eyes widened the slightest bit, not at her threat but at the fact that she made one. "Um, no, not really. So maybe we should just wait until she wakes up on her own."
"You're just trying to get out of painting."
"There's no way I can possibly win, is there?"
Carter grinned smugly. "Nope."
"Didn't think so." Stepping forward, Jack very carefully lifted the car seat up.
Cheyenne's eyes opened instantly. Jack and Carter held their breaths as she looked up at them, waiting for the wailing to start again. But it didn't. A happy gurgled was the only sound she made.
Jack smiled at Carter before he buckled the car seat in. "She likes me."
Carter climbed the front seat, but not before looking Jack up and down in a way she'd never quite dared. "Obviously, she's got my good taste."
Jack was still blushing when he started the truck.
Consequences.4