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“So, what are you going to call her?” I ask, pulling my chair up and sitting down by Alyson’s bed.
“What are we going to call her,” Max corrects.
I shake my head. “I’ve got no idea, you guys did all the name talk.”
“You chimed in,” Alyson argues.
“Yeah, I liked that one suggestion of yours, Lila,” Max remarks, looking down at the tiny face in his arms, “She looks like she could be a Lila.”
Alyson nods, “You know, I think I like Lila, too,” she admits, “How about Lila Jane?”
“Lila Jane Russell?” I try, adding Max’s last name onto it.
“Or Lila Jane Bowman,” Max offers.
I make a face and shake my head. “Nah, doesn’t sound right. I think I like your name better,” I say, shaking my head, “Who knows, maybe I’ll eventually be Forrest Russell instead.”
“I like the sound of that,” Max grins. “Forrest and Alyson Russell,” he lifts the baby a little so he can look into her tiny face, “And little Lila Jane.”
“Happy birthday, Lila,” Alyson whispers, eyes welling with tears again.
Max passes Lila over into my arms, careful with my splinted hand, and the three of us softly sing ‘happy birthday’ to our new little addition.
My heart is threatening to overflow with love for the three of them, and it takes all I’ve got not to bawl like a bitch right now. I bend down and kiss her tiny forehead.
Max is right. No matter whose blood is running through this little girl’s veins, I know instinctively that she’s a piece of all of us, and that we’re all going to love her, as much as we all love each other, with every breath we take for the rest of our lives.
