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‘What colour?’ Marilynn repeated.

‘What do you mean?’ Jason responded.

‘The colour of the nursery?’ She patted her showing belly. ‘The same nursery for our son.’

‘Oh, the nursery, right.’ Jason’s attention warmed back to the conversation. ‘Sorry, I was somewhere else.’

Marilynn felt the tempered venom secrete but sucked it back in. ‘So what colour?’

‘Didn’t we agree on blue?’

‘We did, but what blue? There are over hundreds of blues.’

An impatient sigh slit through Jason’s teeth. ‘Please elaborate how many fuckin’ blues there are,’ he drawled a slow steam from a kettle.

Marilynn’s face snapped taunt, splashed by Jason’s cold verbal slap. Tears welled up, caught off-guard by his attack.

They stared at each in the unpainted baby’s room. A void opened up between them.

Marilynn bridged the gap with steel, and wiped away the salty trail. ‘You know what; I’m going to leave it all up to you. But for god’s sake don’t let it be Caribbean Splash, it’s too fuckin’ dark.’

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