There’s a knock on the door before my mom pops her head into the room. “You’re awake?”
“Yeah.” I motion for her to come in. She was in the delivery room with us, and so was Zoey. I drew the line when it came to my dad, and he was okay with it. I guess he almost fainted when Zoey was born. The big guy couldn’t handle seeing my mother in pain, but I think it was more about the blood, although he’d never admit it.
She pushes open the door and is followed into the room by my father. “We brought you a soda.”
I hold out my hands and wiggle my fingers. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Is that healthy?” Oliver asks, and I pin him with a glare that makes him seal his lips shut.
“It’s best not to talk,” Dad says to Oliver, having been in his shoes a very long time ago. “You won’t win.”
“Never do,” Oliver mumbles, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off our baby. The man is mesmerized.
“Do we have a name yet?” Mom asks, standing in front of Oliver and staring at her first grandbaby.
“I think so,” I tell her.
“And?” she says.
“Harlow,” I reply.
“Harlow?” She tilts her head as her eyes roam the little girl’s face. “Does she look like an Harlow?”
“She looks like an overripe prune,” Dad says.
“Harlow Rose,” Oliver says. “It’s perfect for her.”
“May I?” Mom opens her hands, wanting the baby.
The kid’s feet will probably barely touch the ground until she’s able to run a marathon. Babies are popular in this family, and I already know people will be fighting over holding her.
“Support her head,” Oliver tells my mom, like she’s new to the baby business.
“Oli, I think I know what I’m doing,” she says and laughs. “I’ve got this. Relax.”
“I’m strung so tight right now.”
Dad slaps Oliver’s shoulder. “You’ll be that way the rest of your life. Settle into it. It’s the new you.”
“What?” Oliver asks, his eyes wide as he looks at my dad. “You’re lying.”
“It’s the truth. You’ll never know another day’s peace until you’re buried in the ground.”
Mom slaps Dad on the chest with the back of her hand. “Don’t scare him.”
“Have you ever been relaxed in thirty years, Delilah?” he asks her, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well…no.”
“See?” Dad pitches a thumb at Mom as he tilts his head. “No peace.”
“Damn it,” Oliver mutters.
“I brought cheesecake,” Zoey says, coming into the room in a mad rush. “I went to Eli’s.”
My eyes widen as they land on the bag she’s carrying from my favorite cheesecake place in the city. “You’re the best sister in the world.”
“Godmother worthy?” she asks, holding the bag out of reach and raising an eyebrow.
