“She hasn’t moved,” Owen observes, chewing his pasta.
My chest tightens for half a second. “She’s breathing.”
Poppy leans closer. “Her hands are fists like she’s ready to knock someone out.”
“Already mad about something,” I say. “Probably not having a name yet.”
We take a few more bites, still watching her like she might do something wild.
“She looks like a grumpy old man,” Owen says and then squints. “She looks like she’s judging my chewing.”
“I already love her,” I say quietly.
Poppy nods. “Same.”
Owen shrugs, “I love her, too. But I’m not changing her diapers.”
I laugh and glance back at the tiny human who just rewired my entire life. “Also,” I add, “I’ve never wanted a nap more.”
“Same,” we all groan.
Weston schedules the DNA test like he’s booking a dentist appointment, which is how I end up sitting in a sterile office holding a baby while a nurse swabs her cheek and tells me to relax.
“I am relaxed,” I lie to her face. There’s been nothing relaxed in me since I got to the hospital and held my sister in my arms for the first time.
Weston was great about filing emergency custody paperwork immediately in case Madison tried to show back up and take her. I don’t think she will, but then again, Madison just left her there. I don’t know what she’s capable of at this point, and we’re not taking any chances.
The baby makes a tiny, offended noise, as if she knows something suspicious just happened. I immediately apologize to her because she doesn’t deserve this. I try to think about how we’ll have to explain this to her someday, and it’ll break her heart.
Welcome to the broken parents club. You’re an official member, too. You fit right in with all of us.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll never let anyone bother you again. Except doctors. And your Aunt Cami. She’ll definitely bother you.”
Poppy squeezes my knee. “You’re doing great.”
I don’t believe her, but I nod anyway.
The doctor tells us the results will come back in a few weeks, maybe sooner, and then waves us out like this is all very routine. Nothing about this is routine. It makes no sense, and our whole world has been turned upside down in the past forty-eight hours.
We take her out to Cami and Jack’s and tell everyone to meet us there. By the time we pull into the driveway, it looks like a town event. Cars everywhere. Lights on. People are already inside and baby decorations are everywhere.
Maggie opens the door before we even knock and lets out a shriek. “Oh my God,” she says, clutching her chest. “They’re here everybody!”
The house explodes into noise. Violet squeals. Walker laughs. Jack claps me on the back hard enough to knock the breath out of me. Owen parks himself next to the carrier like a bouncer.
“Okay,” Maggie says, leaning in dangerously close. “What’s her name?”
My heart starts pounding. I look at Poppy and lean in, whispering it to her first because that feels right. It only counts if she says yes. We’ve gone over every name we could think of for the past few days and we landed on the perfect one.
Her face softens instantly. She nods and kisses my cheek. “I love it.”
I clear my throat. “Eleanor Grace.”
The room goes quiet.
“Eleanor,” I say, my voice shaking just a little. “After my grandma Wilder. Grace after Poppy. And her mom.”
Poppy squeezes my hand. “We’re calling her Ellie.”
