Page 77 of Home Run

“Yes please.”

Half an hour later, after we’d made delivery arrangements with Julie and a date for another appointment that Millie would come to with Radley, we were seated at our table, hungrily awaiting the burgers and fries we’d both ordered.

The restaurant here was always busy, but today seemed particularly so, filled with a strange combination of suits and tourists. I thought I’d gotten away with no one askingfor photos this morning, but that changed after we stepped through the doors of the hotel and I got stopped three times in the lobby. If we hadn’t been so hungry, I would have stayed out there longer.

“Do you want to find out what we’re having?” she asked, putting down the cookies and cream milkshake she was slurping her way through. I’d stuck with water.

“I don’t know, do you?”

“It’ll be easier to come up with names, I guess.”

“Have you thought of any?”

She shook her head. “No, have you?”

“Yes. Just one,” I told her right as the server arrived with a tray loaded up with our lunch. Snatching a scalding fry from the jar, I threw it in my mouth. “What was your dad called?”

“Brady, why?” she replied, smiling up at the server while simultaneously taking the biggest bite of her burger I’d ever seen.

“Because I think that if we have a boy, we should name him after your dad.” I shrugged, trying to keep it as casual as possible, mostly because I didn’t want to upset her. “If you’d like that.”

Immediately her eyes filled like I expected them to, except I probably should have waited until she’d swallowed her giant mouthful to mention it.

“You’d do that?” she said finally, wiping her eyes.

“Yes. Brady Simpson or Brady Robinson-Simpson, if you want. Has a nice ring to it, future Hall of Famer, for sure.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

“What about girls’ names?”

Girls’ names weren’t anything I’d ever given much thought to. I ran through the list of girls I’d known, a very short list of ex-girlfriends, and immediately struck them off, until I remembered the one I’d loved with all my heart.

“What about Poppy?”

“Poppy?Poppy. Poppy Simpson. Yeah, I like it,” she replied, before her expression morphed into suspicion. “Wait, you’ve not had sex with a Poppy, right?”

I laughed. “No. She was my first dog growing up.”

“Oh.Oh.Then, sure. That’s cute. What kind of dog was she?”

“A golden retriever.”

Millie’s eyes lit up. “That’s what we have. He’s called Brinkley.”

“They’re the best, I’d love another but it’s not fair while I’m on the road. Good family dogs,” I added.

“Are you suggesting we get one with a baby?”

“No. I wasn’t.” I shook my head, grinning widely at her raised brows. “I wasn’t. I promise.”

“Because we have our hands full.”

“I know,” I agreed and picked up my burger.

Sinking my teeth in, I chewed slowly, Millie doing the same, though I doubted it was for the same reasons.

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