Page 186 of My Unfinished Heart

“You have no way of knowing that.”

“Girl,” Tristan says, agreeing with Eliza for once.

The eleven-year old makes a noise of annoyance and sits down on the opposite side of the waiting room.

Tristan gives me a look of equal irritation, but his face changes when he gets a glimpse of mine. “What’s wrong? You look scared to death.”

Not even West can read me as fast as Tristan can. “I just want this over. I want everybody to be okay, and…” I pause for a deep breath. “I’m just ready for it to be done.”

“Everybody’s fine.” His engagement ring catches the light, gleaming as his hand runs up and down my chest. It’s the right ring on his long fingers. From the moment I slid it on, I knew it belonged there.

In the next fifteen seconds, all of our cell phones get pinged with texts. Even Kate’s.

Connor is the first to shout with excitement.

Helen’s whispered, “Thank you, Jesus,” is the next sound.

“A brother!” Eliza squeals, leaping from her chair. “We have a baby brother!”

Kate shrieks, and then they both go crazy.

Tristan and I look at the texts on my phone together.

West

IT’S A BOY!

Ezra Bryan Miles

May 11th 1:09 a.m.

8lbs 1oz

“Ezra,” Tristan says, nearly incoherent as he gulps back the shock of the middle name. “I love that.”

I blow out a few breaths, trying to manage the grief and the joy. Connor is crying quietly, but he’s smiling, too. “Doesn’t really go with Elizabeth and Kate,” I note, trying to get all of us back into the spirit of the thing.

My effort works. Tristan snorts. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m just saying, it’s gonna make the E’s confusing in the chat.”

“He can be Z then. Babe, will you finally relax? Jesus.”

I take a deep breath, managing an entire lungful of air for the first time in hours.

West comes for the girls first, taking them and Helen to meet the baby. Joey’s parents are still en route from Chicago. He gives me a nod before he leads his family out of the waiting room.

Connor sits between me and Tristan in our crappy chairs discussing with Tristan what the baby must look like. Does he have Joey’s dimples? Is his hair curly or straight? Does he have any tattoos?

It’s late. They’re punch-drunk and laughing.

I don’t know what I am.

Quiet.

Happy.

Beside myself.