Costco offering Patrick Turner jumpers on special….
They were having a special!: A short Call the Midwife AU modern day fanfic
Angela wouldn’t stop crying. She’d been bawling for nearly an hour — ever since Patrick and Tim left for the store — and Shelagh couldn’t figure out why. She was just about to give up and start crying herself when she heard the front door open and saw her husband and stepson returning, shopping bags in hand.
"Oh thank goodness, you’re back," she said, shifting the screaming baby to her other hip. "Did you get the nappies?"
"Yep and the formula and…" Patrick reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of jumpers with a flourish. "These. They were on special."
Shelagh sighed. “Oh, Patrick. I thought we agreed — no buying clothes in bulk. You’re a respected doctor, there is no reason for you to wear clothes from Costco.”
"They’re not that bad," he said, slipping an odd-colored brown one over his shirt.
"It isn’t even straight at the bottom," Tim said, making a face. "And one of those sleeves is shorter than the other."
"Well, they’re just for around the house," Patrick said. "Angela was sick on the last one and ruined it."
Ruined is a strong word, Shelagh thought. The jumper had been close to vomit-colored already. But she was too worn out to argue. “All right. Can you hand me a nappy? I think she needs a change.”
"Let me take her. You look worn out, love. Tim can put away the rest of the shopping."
Shelagh gratefully handed Angela over to her father and the child instantly quieted.
"See?" he said, slinging a bag of nappies over his free arm. "She just missed her daddy."
Shelagh watched him coo over his daughter as he disappeared down the hall to the nursery. For that, she loved him, odd jumpers and all.
She collapsed on the sofa. “Thank you, Tim. Why didn’t you watch him?”
"He ran off while I was getting crisps. I can’t keep track of him all the time."
"I thought I’d gotten rid of all the bad jumpers," she said, yawning. "But they never end, do they?"
Tim plopped down beside her with an open packet of crisps. “Don’t worry Mum. Angela got sick or dribbled milk on the last three. Maybe she’ll ruin these, too.”
"Perhaps you’re right," she said, taking a handful of crisps.
On cue, they heard Patrick’s frustrated groan from the nursery. “Oh, Angie. This was new.”
Shelagh smirked. “That’s my girl.”