Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“Not even,” Delaney shot back. “And you already started the list, bitch. I was just helping you out.”
Gracen cackled. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Mmhmm, see. Everybody probably does this, anyway.”
“You think?”
Gracen’s quiet question shot Delaney through the heart with a spear of sadness she hadn’t expected. That was probably a question a first-time pregnant woman should be able to call her mother and ask. Except Gracen no longer had a mother to call, and Delaney couldn’t help in that department, either. Her mother wouldn’t even pick up her fucking calls.
Not that she bothered to try anymore.
“Well, I don’t really know for sure,” Delaney hedged.
“Yeah, me either. I’ve got about as much experience with pregnant women and babies as Mister Kitty here.”
At the sound of his name, the cat in the background meowed louder.
“I know, buddy,” Gracen cooed to her vocal pet. “You’re my best friend, too, huh?”
“Friggin cat, stealing all my love,” Delaney joked.
“He does not. You sound just like Malachi.”
To be fair, the cat did get a lot of attention and love. Delaney didn’t have to be present in Gracen’s life every single day to know she doted on Mister Kitty as if he were another human in her home in need of her time and affection. He had more toys than he could reasonably play with, a choice in various foods, and a bed in practically every room. All things Gracen was solely responsible for.
“He’s not spoiled,” Gracen said as if she could read Delaney’s mind.
“Not at all, huh? Not even a little bit?”
“No, he’s loved.”
“Spoiled from love, sure.”
Her best friend only sighed on the other end of the line when Delaney challenged her.
“Hey, are we making a long list of baby names or picking on me and my cat?” Gracen suddenly asked.
“Both are valid things to tease you about, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, well … somebody here already does that everyday. You’re gonna have to pick something new. Next name, please.”
Delaney guffawed.
Gracen didn’t budge, laughing as she demanded, “Come on, give me another name.”
To be fair, Delaney didn’t mean any harm by joking about Gracen’s obsession over naming her unborn child. A baby, by the way, whose gender her friend did not yet even know. She thought it was sweet that Gracen wanted to put so much careful effort and thought into naming the child. Maybe someday, she could tell the story of how she picked the baby’s name and the way those around her, even Delaney, helped.
“Amber … Rose,” came a suggestion from across the apartment.
Gracen still heard it. “I like it, but I also think I’ve heard it before.”
“Probably a stripper name,” Bexley muttered. “Sounds like one.”
“It does not,” Delaney argued.
Her cousin only flipped a hand indifferently over her shoulder where she sat with the back of her head facing Delaney. “I mean, it does, and I’m the one who came up with it.”
More giggles rushed from the phone.
“That’s terrible,” Delaney said, more to herself than the other two women involved in the conversation. “How do you think a kid would feel if somebody told them their name sounded like a stripper’s name?”
Gracen’s amusement quieted.
On the couch, Bexley flipped through channels, unbothered. “If it’s true …”
“Bex.”
Her cousin didn’t act as if Delaney had said a thing.
“What would you tell your kid if they came home one day and said to you,” Gracen asked Delaney, “Mom, so and so said I had a stripper’s name—what then?”
“Who would say that to a kid?” Delaney questioned.
Someone horrible.
“I might,” Bexley chimed in.
Of course.
Delaney side-eyed her cousin who had still yet to turn around on the couch. “I’d tell them their name is as beautiful as the person—or people—who own it. And the only people who have something to say about their name are just jealous that theirs aren’t as interesting or pretty.”
She also wouldn’t name her kid Amber—no offense to any Ambers, but it reminded her of names like Jessica or Tiffany. There were far better names to pick. Delaney didn’t add that bit out loud. Just in case Gracen did like the name.
It was her baby, and she would name it whatever she wanted.
“I like my name,” Bexley said, “it’s not a jealous thing.”
Right.
Delaney went back to her conversation, and what mattered there. Picking one’s battles, especially when it came to family, was a real skill she had needed to master early in life. “For the record, we’ve been doing this for an hour, Gracen, and not once have we got into the boy names.”
“I’m gonna let Malachi name the baby if it’s a boy.”
“Even if he names him something like Henry or—”
“Even then,” Gracen interjected. “Also, I like Henry, so …”
Delaney smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Who knows? Maybe the baby will be a boy, and all this time we’ve spent going through names will be for nothing.”