The small metal hex key slipped, scraping a harsh, screeching line against the polished oak slat.
Christian let out a sharp exhale. Sitting cross-legged on the thick living room rug, he stared at the half-assembled wooden crib. A pile of identical steel screws rested near his knee. A crumpled, multi-page instruction manual lay abandoned beneath the edge of the glass coffee table, bearing the wrinkled marks of a man who had squeezed it in absolute frustration ten minutes prior.
"You installed the drop-side railing backward," Julianne observed from the sofa.
Resting a ceramic bowl on her knees, she picked up a salt-and-vinegar pretzel, dipped it directly into a small container of vanilla yogurt, and ate it. The bizarre pregnancy craving had surfaced two days ago, defying all culinary logi
