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We haven’t. We thought we still had time. We had narrowed it down to a few names, but we hadn’t settled on anything.
“We’ll keep thinking about it. Now that she’s here, maybe we’ll be inspired.”
Knox reaches over and lightly touches the blanket. “Her face is wrinkly.”
J.R. laughs. “It’ll straighten out.”
A nurse walks up to the bed. “Okay, Rachel, we have to take her and get her checked out. Make sure she’s healthy, which I’m sure she is. You should rest. That wasn’t easy.”
J.R. looks worried. “Take her away?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring her back,” the nurse says with a smile.
J.R. watches the nurse take our baby from my arms, lay her in the baby bed, and then wheel her out of the room. After the doctor gives me a quick inspection, we’re finally left alone.
Knox has resorted herself to a chair, flipping through the channels on the television. J.R. is still next to me, but he sits in a chair, too. His hand is on mine, and he’s looking at me in a way he’s never looked at me before.
I smile at him gently. “You should go see your dad,” I tell him. “Go check on him.”
J.R.’s eyes change, and his expression falls flat. I can’t decide if he’s forgotten about his dad or if there’s something he hasn’t told me.
“What is it?” I ask him when he doesn’t say anything.
J.R. drops his head for a moment, but then he looks up at me again. “He died.”
I feel my heart stop, and I can’t even understand why he hadn’t told me this before. “What? When?”
“Before. When Knox and I went to tell Mom about everything.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You were five minutes from pushing a human out of your body. It didn’t really feel like a good time.”
I pull him into me, holding his face in my hands. I feel tears surface in my eyes again, and I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
J.R. smiles at me. “Death for life.”
“It’s your dad.”
J.R. looks sad again. “My dad died a long time ago, Rach.”
Roger hadn’t been himself in weeks. Maybe even months. He existed, but he wasn’t sure who any of us were anymore. J.R. had been running himself ragged between our homes, and I think there’s a piece of him that is relieved. Roger’s last days were no way to live. I hope I never again have to see someone die like Roger did.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask him.
J.R. shakes his head. “I’m here with you. I’m not worried about her.” He strokes my cheek with his finger.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Go. Be with your mom. Make sure she’s holding up.”
J.R. looks hesitant to leave me but then also anxious to check on her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’m just going to rest, and Kelley and Adam will be here soon. They can watch after Knox.”
J.R. leans in and kisses me. “I won’t be gone long.”
“Take your time.”
I write the name over and over again across my napkin. Our baby girl is two days old, and we’ve yet to pick out a name. I didn’t put this much thought into Knox’s name. It just came to me. It’s not working out that way now, but I think it’s because our daughter’s birth has been shrouded with death. We’ll go home tomorrow and attend Roger’s funeral the day after that. J.R. is a mix of emotion, and I’m not sure he knows which way to feel. On one hand, he’s over the moon with the excitement of the birth of our baby. On the other hand, his dad is dead. Both events happened at the same time. How is one supposed to feel? Still, he holds our girl every chance he gets, and I have to remind him to share her with Knox.
