Page 142 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Ah.” I nod, trying to not to grin. “Makes sense.”
“I’m so glad you see my logic here.”
“Mhm,” I hum. “Do you want to call your mom now?”
She’s been putting it off, I think because she had herself fully convinced we’d be sent home again, but she’s dilating and now she’s had an epidural so we’re here until we go home with a baby.
Fuck, that’s terrifying to think about.
She places her hand over her belly. “I should, shouldn’t I? She’s going to be so sad.” Tears fill her eyes. “I’m sad, too.”
I reach for her hand that’s not on her stomach. “I’m sorry, baby.”
I know this isn’t how she pictured things, but I suppose these sorts of things don’t usually go according to plan.
She grabs her phone and rings her mom.
“Hey, Mom,” she greets when she answers. “Um … yeah, about that, surprise, I’m in labor for real this time.” She listens to something her mom says. “Seven centimeters. Yep. I just got my epidural.” She bites her bottom lip, listening to whatever she says next. “I know. No, no, don’t try to drive in this. It’s bad here and I don’t want you guys to hit weather.” Her mother says something rapidly and Harlow shakes her head. “I mean, I guess you could come that far. This baby wanted to make a grand entrance apparently and chose the worst timing.”
I turn to the muted TV that shows news coverage of the storm, and it hits me then, the name for our baby.
“All right. If you guys head out text me as you go, okay? I love you, too. Tell Dad I love him.”
She hangs up the phone and I give her hand a squeeze. “I know now isn’t the best time, but I think I know the name.”
“The name?”
“For the baby.”
“Oh, right.” She drops her head back against the pillows. “We still haven’t figured that out.”
“Whether it’s a boy or girl I think we should name it Monroe.”
“Monroe?” she repeats. “Like the storm?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “This is a rare storm and we’ve had so many false alarms, but they decided to come today. It feels like a sign, don’t you think?”
She purses her lips. “Monroe.” She twists her head side to side thinking it over. “Monroe,” she repeats. “I like it. But what about a middle name.”
“If it’s a boy I’d like it to be Thomas for T.J.”
“Oh.” She squeezes my hand. “That’s a great idea. What about a girl?”
“I think you should pick that.”
“You know how I feel about this kind of pressure,” she jokes. She blows out a breath. “I suppose Willa’s an option.”
“Monroe Willa,” I muse.
She gags. “Never mind. I love my sister, but Monroe Willa sounds awful.”
“What about Monroe Clare?” I suggest.
“I like that, but where the heck did you come up with Clare?”
“It was our Family and Consumer Sciences teacher’s first name. I figure since that’s where we first met it has meaning behind it.”
“It’s perfect,” she says softly.
