“Since you were here when he was born,” she says, “you should be the one to name him.”
“Me?”
“Why not?” She gives a small shrug. “You showed up and helped and I don’t believe in coincidences.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so she saves me from trying.
“Think about it,” she says. “Let me know what you come up with. Just don’t take too long, I’d hate to call him John Doe until you figure it out.”
I huff a laugh. “I’ll have something for you by tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We walk to our separate side-by-sides. She climbs in start the engine and takes off with a wave goodbye. She drives ahead toward the barn, dust trailing behind her.
I wait a few seconds before I start mine; long enough to admit to myself that I’m already thinking about the damn name… and about her.
Delta
It’s late when I finally sit down in the main house, and I am more than ready for it to finally be over. Lena comes in first a minute later, drops into the armchair across from me,
“Today was long,” she says.
Paige drops into the chair across from Lena,
“How are we, ladies?” she groans. “Because if y’all are anywhere near as happy as I am that this shit-show of a day is over, then we’re celebrating.”
Paige points her pen at both of us like she’s issuing a threat. “ I plan on sleeping in tomorrow. Nobody call me, nobody text me, not even if a damn cow starts speaking English. I’m off the clock.”
Lena lifts her hands in surrender, and I do the same. “Maybe I should get more help,” I say, half to them, half to myself. I open my mouth to elaborate when Paige perks up like I handed heran invitation. “Funny you say that. Speaking of help… Romeo’s back.”
Lena and I groan instantly.
“Oh God,” I say, already half-laughing. “What happened now? Did he finally wear the matching bra to go with those pink panties and she put him out again? Didn’t Cash say he wasn’t welcomed back?”
Lena snorts. “Or did she chase him through Walmart again with her Crocs in sport mode?”
Paige doesn’t laugh, which only makes us laugh harder because we think she’s winding up to something.
“He’s been saving…” she says.
“For bail?” I ask, cutting her off.
“For a getaway fund?” Lena adds.
“For a ring,” Paige says.
We freeze for a split second, then burst right back into laughter.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze, “they’re actually trying to make it legal.”
Lena nearly doubles over. “Can you imagine a Romeo wedding? The vows would turn into an argument before the officiant got to ‘with this ring.’”
“Oh, they’d need security instead of ushers,” I say.
“And emergency exits printed on the programs,” Lena adds.
Paige waits, then continues. “He decorated the whole house this morning. Confetti cannons, rose petals spelling ‘Marry Me,’ candles everywhere, and twelve live baby ducks walking around in tiny flower collars.”
