“Oh girl names! I have plenty of those. I know you’re thinking about unique names; Cove mentioned Ocean and Brooklyn, so how about Frosty?”

“Dear Lord,” Sophia places her napkin on the table and sighs. “Frosty? Frosty Everton? No way. That’s the name of a dessert.”

She doesn’t give up, and continues through her list with Sophia and I both shaking our heads at each name.

“Mother, stop. It’s too soon to pick a name anyway, and we don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. Let’s discuss this down the road, say, in seven months?”

“Oh fine. But I’m only going to keep adding to this list. Oh! Ambrose! That’s a good one. Both Cove and my husband’s middle name!”

Sophia looks at me and gives a slow nod of her head. “Okay, that one’s actually not so bad. You can keep it, but Cove’s right, we have a long way to go before we decide on a name.”

“The due date will be here faster than you think,” my father grins. “When is it, by the way? Have you figured that out?”

“The end of March or early April.”

“Oh, a spring birth. I love spring babies!” my mother cries out, unable to contain her delight. “I can’t wait until tomorrow, I’m going out to buy the baby so many wonderful things.”

“No,” Sophia and I say in unison.

“Mom, don’t go overboard. Why don’t we shop together, as a family, but not for a few months, alright? You’re jumping ahead of the game.” I think about Sophia’s cat and all the toys, beds, clothing, blankets, and treats he has... and he’s a cat. I can only imagine what she’ll do for a grandchild. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice of her, but she’ll buy a pile of dresses because she believes they’re pretty, not thinking that it could be a boy. She’ll just go into a baby buying frenzy.

“Well, I have to do something. I want to help you prepare for the big event. What about the two of you? Are you excited, what’s on the agenda for the upcoming weeks? You must be planning a little bit. What about a nursery? The ground floor bedroom is too far away from your room. It’s floors apart. What will you do for a nursery?” she speaks quickly with a grin that can’t be contained.

I sigh, knowing that I just gave her some of the best news of her life, and now I have to rain on her parade. “We’re both very excited. It’s the best news of my life, but the loft isn’t a good place for a baby. We could make it work for a while, but eventually we need a home that has two bedrooms on the same floor. I also don’t like the thought of being so many stories up, especially if a door or a window is left open.” I watch her eyes turn down in sadness, but she nods in agreement without saying a word. My father takes her hand and tries to put a different spin on the news.

“This is good, Leondra. We want our grandchild to be safe, and Cove and Sophia are thinking ahead. We can help them find a lovely house in the city, with a yard, and we can head over there a few times a week for a bar-b-que or coffee. But Cove’s right, this area, the building, being in the downtown business district, it’s just not the best environment for a baby.”

My mother nods again, her words caught in her throat. She’s visibly upset, but also understands our needs.

“Leondra,” Sophia speaks up. “I’d love it if you’d help us find a new home, go with us to view the houses in person, and then when we find the right one, I could use your decorating skills for the inside.”

“Deal,” my mother attempts a smile. “I’m sorry you two, really I am. I know I’m being selfish, but it would be so nice to walk down the hall at anytime and give the baby a hug. At the same time, your needs are more important than mine.”

“Wherever we are, you’re still welcome to come over every day. Especially to change diapers. We’ll make sure we stay close enough for you to do that,” I joke, forgetting about the splinted hand I have hidden under the table. I reach for my knife then close my eyes in regret when my mother sees my swollen fingers. Damn.

“What happened to you?” she asks with a sudden crack in her voice. “Cove, your fingers, my God, they look broken. What did you do? Popsicle sticks? What happened!”

“Just a little accident, I’m fine. No worries. Let’s talk more about the baby and what we’d like to find in a home.”

“I’d like to know about those fingers as well. I asked you earlier and you ignored me,” my father says.

“I was ignoring you for other reasons, Dad.”

“You have to tell them,” Sophia whispers. “Something like this is there business. David’s part of...”

“David?” my father stands before us. “What the fuck is this about? What the hell happened to you?” His voice is direct as he stares me down. “Now, Cove. Stop fucking around.”

“Okay. Jesus.” I turn to my mother, not wanting to hurt her with this information. “I don’t think Mom should hear some of this, it’s a sensitive subject.”

“Now, Cove,” my mother says, just as angry as my father.

“I got money from my father’s estate and David wants it,” Sophia takes the plunge. “He contacted me a few times but I’ve been ignoring him, so he went after Cove. We’re giving the assbag the money. I don’t want it, but unfortunately I didn’t make that decision fast enough for him not to do harm.”

I slide my hand down my face and sigh. “I’ll be fine. Bones heal, and I was piss drunk so I barely felt a thing.”

“Son-of-a-bitch! Fuck that. I had a guy break my fingers in prison and I cried like a baby. You shouldn’t have to suffer through such torture. Where did this happen?” my father demands more answers as he does the fucking hand in hair thing again. We’re starting to look like twins in our obsessive mirrored behaviors.

Sophia’s quiet as I stand and face my father. “It was at Kaitlyn Moore’s house.”

“What the heck were you doing doing at that woman’s house?” my mother fumes. “And how does she know David?”

My father and I face one another, our nostrils flare and our rapid breathing fills the room. “She doesn’t know him,” I say through my teeth. “Not really. And she probably wishes now that she’d never met him. I was set up in some fucked up way to go to her house.” Sophia turns away and shakes her head in disgust. “I wanted information about Dad and Ivy, I didn’t have a clue that he’d be waiting for me.”

My mother tosses her napkin on the table and heads for the kitchen for the bottle of wine. She pours herself another glass as both my father and I sit down.

“How long have you known about them, Mom, and why didn’t you tell me?” I say softly as she returns to the table. My breathing is now deep as I discipline myself to stay in control. Take in your own advice, just like you always say to Sophia, breathe in... breathe out. You can get through this.

“It was never my place to tell you such a thing, it was your father’s,” she turns to him with disappointment in her eyes. “Kaitlyn Moore stopped me on the street one day when I was walking you to grammar school. She was holding a baby in her arms that she claimed was your father’s. I hurried away before you started asking questions about what she meant by that, and I never saw her again. I trusted your father would have told me if it was true. I held my faith that it wasn’t, gave him my heart and soul, and thought his feelings were mutual.”

“They were,” he whispers. “I was afraid of losing the two of you.”

“I’ve had decades to think about it, and then I let it slip into our past,” my mother sighs and takes three large gulps of wine. My hand twitches for the bottle. It’s that time of the day and under these conditions when my body and mind crave liquor.

Sophia taps the tabletop with her fingernail, unquestionably nervous, and I don’t blame her. She’s pregnant, worried about David, and is in the middle of a family at war. Both she and I seem to be shit magnets.

“Why did you let Ivy work at the Scarlett?” she questions my mother.

“I never made the connection. There’re a lot of Moore’s in this world, and even if I had figured out she was Kaitlyn’s daughter, there wasn’t anything I could have done about it... or would have wanted to do about it. I have nothing against an innocent twenty-one-year-old girl.” She turns to my father and purses her lips as though she’s keeping her remaining words locked inside.