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I want to do it today.
“Let’s go over the thirty names.” Dallas clears her throat, unraveling a list that is very obviously longer than thirty.
Farrow shakes her head, eyes clinging to the child. “Luca.”
“Huh?” Dallas’ head snaps up, her mouth ajar. “No, that’s…that’s not even on my list.” She waves the note roller in her hand, paper flapping in the wind.
“Think about it.” Farrow meets her gaze, a small smile on her lips. “Luca.”
“Luca.” Romeo toys with the name, mouthing it a few times. He caresses a knuckle over his son’s cheek. “I like the sound of it. Strong. Italian.”
“Means bringer of light.” Dallas holds up her Google search. “He did bring a lot of light into my life, even before he was born.”
And so, Luca Salvatore Costa was introduced to the world, surrounded by family.
Later, I manage to make it to the parking lot before I can’t help myself anymore. “I want one, too.”
“What? A Toyota Camry?” Farrow glances at the nearest car, which happens to be a rusty vehicle that has seen better days. In the eighties. “I’m sure we can afford it.”
“A baby.”
I stop by her Prius. Because, yes, Farrow still drives her stupid Prius, which she loves to no end and also named Priscilla.
Another annoying remnant from her pre-engaged life—the apartment. Once she moved back in, she converted the studio into an office for business meetings.
Fine.I love her fierce independence.
“You want a baby?” She staggers against her car. “Zach, it’s illegal to just take one?—”
“Not from the maternity ward.Christ.” I chuckle, loving that she messes with me. “One of our own.”
“We’re not even married yet.” She furrows her brows. “In fact, we cannot even come up with a date or astatefor the wedding.”
True stuff.
A problem courtesy of my overbearingly enthusiastic mother.
We managed to patch things up quickly after our showdown in Thailand. Mainly because she showed up on my doorstep her first day back, promised to process her grief with a therapist, and even helped me hunt down my wedding ring.
A stunning emerald bracketed by sparkling rubies.
It belonged to Mom’s family for generations.
Rare. Just like Octi.
I snatch the keys from Farrow’s hands. “We can have a baby without being married.”
She hides a giggle with her fingertips. “Your mother would have another heart attack if we have a baby out of wedlock.”
“True.” I stroke my chin. I now live life on my own terms, but that doesn’t mean I’ll piss all over Mom’s wishes if they don’t interfere with my happiness.
“How about Vegas?”
“Vegas?” Farrow’s eyes light up. “Like, elope?”
I nod. “No catering, no arguments over venue, no floral arrangement you need to book three years in advance. You can wear your favoritesneakers and fencing gear, and no one would flinch.”
Lies.
