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“Oh, please. Call me Doug. Unless Brown loses to Dartmouth in the basketball tournament next weekend. Then you can address me as Mr. Norris.”
I grinned. “Then I’ll enjoy calling you Doug while I can, because Brown doesn’t stand a chance.”
“And look at you!” her mom exclaimed while hugging Tristan. “Is that a polo shirt? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than a suit.”
“I changed before arriving. I wanted to avoid my suit getting… fluids on it.” He shuddered.
We chatted with them in the waiting room, and celebrated with cups of coffee, until the nurses told us we could go back in. Doug beamed when he held his granddaughter. Melinda’s mother immediately began fussing with her about all the little things she needed to worry about after taking the baby home.
“Let’s discuss those tomorrow,” Melinda said gently.
“Good,” Doug said. “We can also discuss how you went away to be Pierce’s surrogate a year ago, and came back with three boyfriends.”
Melinda was too tired to be shocked. “I guess the cat is out of the bag. How’d you find out? Did Carly tell you?”
“Carly knows?!?!” her mother exclaimed.
“I tell Carly everything.”
“Does she know the baby’s name?” Doug asked.
“Nobody does. There is no name, yet. We’re waiting a few days to let everything settle, and to see what her personality is like.”
“She’s a few hours old,” Melinda’s mother said. “She doesn’t have a personality.”
“We’ll be sure to let you know when we decide,” Melinda answered.
Her parents visited for a little while, then left to give us some privacy. We continued passing the baby around. When I wasn’t holding her, I was staring at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her; she was perfect in every way.
“Hear me out,” I said. “Melinda Junior.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“You said men are the only ones arrogant enough to name their children after themselves,” I pointed out. “I want to prove you wrong.”
“We’re not naming her Melinda Junior. That’s not a thing.”
“We could make it a thing!”
Melinda turned to the other two men in the room. “Will someone offer a reasonable alternative?”
“My mother’s name is Mary,” Tristan suggested.
“I like it! Wasn’t there a Queen Mary?”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Yes, well…”
“Bloody Mary,” Andrew said. “Right?”
“That was Mary the First,” Tristan admitted. “Mary the Second was a far better monarch. She ruled wisely with her husband, William.”
“William and Mary,” I said. “Like the college.”
“Indeed.”
“Any other suggestions?” Melinda asked.
“My mother’s name is Louise,” Andrew said sheepishly. “I’ve always liked it, but I’m biased…”
