Author's note: Thank you very much for all the reviews and messages.

Chapter Seven – Petunia Is A Name

"She is late."

Maura's voice resounded loud and clear. In control. And extremely angry. It sent a shiver down Jane's spine. Maura was a very nice person and she rarely lost her nerves but she seemed to have the potential to literally explode if pushed too far and that wasn't something that Jane wanted to witness now.

Now or never, as a matter of fact.

"It's 6.01pm, Maura. It's not what I call running late." Jane straightened up on her seat and swept away some invisible dust from her jacket.

She hadn't had the time to change. They had left the BPD in a hurry and she had forgotten her spare bag on her desk. What a complete fail for someone who wanted to look like anything but a cop. It would scare the poor girl, or at least intimidate her. And that wasn't something that Jane wanted to do. She hadn't forgotten Maura's black eye. She couldn't screw it twice in a row.

"But still... Petunia might be carrying our future child. I know that not a single study has proved it yet but what if a lack of punctuality is actually genetic? You know what I think about people who aren't punctual."

Jane rolled her eyes. She knew way too well about that considering that she wasn't very punctual herself.

"Petunia..." Jane chuckled. "What kind of parents dare to choose such name? It's not even a name. Nah. Nobody does that. They probably didn't like their daughter very much to do that. Nobody in his right mind..."

"You don't like it?" Maura genuinely seemed to be surprised by Jane's reaction. She shrugged and grabbed the adoption file to leaf through it for the thousandth time. "I find it cute. It is... Fresh!"

A wave of panic rushed through Jane. Was Maura being serious? The remark wouldn't have bothered her under other circumstances but they were going to raise a child together and their parenthood adventure started with finding a name for the aforesaid child. If Maura liked 'Petunia', Jane would have to fight hard to impose something different. Something very different.

There was no way she would ever accept to name her daughter Petunia Junior. Or Petunio if it was a boy.

"Petunia for God's sake, Maura..."

Thankfully the door of the little cafe opened and a young woman came in reducing to pieces any chance for them to argue now. She looked exactly like the picture that Jane and Maura had got with the file.

Petunia had been the first one to accept to meet them out of the fifteen pregnant women they had selected. As much as Jane and Maura knew that they didn't have to rush into things, they secretly hoped that the first one would be the right one.

If only.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Jane. Please, sit down."

Jane stood up and shook Petunia's hand before motioning her the chair in front of them. She and Maura had sat side by side. Did it look too official? Petunia wasn't going to pass an exam. It was supposed to be a random chat; some sort of first date.

"And you must be Maura. Nice to meet you."

Petunia shook Maura's hand but – much to Jane's surprise – her friend and now wife remained silent. What was going on? She had talked about nothing but this date for the past week and now her excitement was completely gone.

Minus her name, Jane had to admit that Petunia looked like a nice and decent person.

"You're okay...?" Jane bent over to close the distance that separated her from Maura and frowned. "You know you're allowed to speak, right?" Maura vaguely nodded. "Then... Say something!" Jane turned back to Petunia and forced a friendly laugh. "She can be shy."

"Have you ever been to Ireland? It says in your file that you have Irish roots. Have you ever been there?"

Alright. The good thing was that Maura seemed to have found back her capacity to make sentences but her question didn't belong to the list of questions she and Jane had come up with. Who cared if she had ever been to Europe?

It was a detail, a very insignificant one.

"I used to go to Ireland every summer as a child. My grandmother still lives there. Then I became a teen and my parents and I... You know, we didn't get along very much anymore so it stopped." Petunia's smile froze. "Is that a bad thing or a good thing? I mean, the Ireland part. I perfectly know that my teen years weren't the most glorious ones."

"I think my mother knows your grandmother."

Maura's remark took Jane and Petunia completely aback. Things were taking a very unexpected turn if Maura's assumptions happened to be right.

"What makes you think that?" Jane grabbed her diet Coke and took a sip of it.

She knew that Maura could be a little weird at times – especially in a foreign environment – but it was going quite far this time. If she didn't change her attitude, she would scare Petunia.

"My mother has a friend who's grandchild lives in Boston and her name is Petunia. I do appreciate your name a lot – I even said it to Jane before you arrived – but let's face it, it is a rather unusual one. Do your grandmother live in Doolin in County Clare?"

"Yes, she does. Oh my God. That's such a... Funny coincidence! Who's your mother? Maybe I know her. I got your file too yet nothing caught my attention. But then I haven't seen my grandmother for years now and given the circumtances I'm not sure she'd be very happy to see me now."

Petunia didn't add anything. She looked down at her stomach and swallowed hard. She was five-month pregnant. She couldn't hide it anymore now. Maura bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. Then – without any warning – she bent over and grabbed the young woman's hand to squeeze it in a way she hoped to be comforting.

"I am sure that she would be very proud of you, of the decisions you are taking now. There is nothing to be ashamed of, Petunia. Absolutely nothing. There is actually something very mature in your choice. Trust me: I mean what I am saying."

Jane nodded.

"That's true. She can't lie. She gets hives if she does. I married a weirdo. A sweet one though."

...

Petunia was twenty-three. Her pregnancy was an accident and even if she had thought about abortion first, she had finally decided to choose adoption instead. An open adoption. Jane and I liked the idea because it was a nice way for our child to be able to put names and faces on his or her roots. I know what it feels like to have absolutely no idea where you are from and it is a devastating emptiness I don't wish anyone to ever face.

An open adoption was perfect.

I don't know if it is because my mother knew Petunia's grandmother but we hit it off right away. We had planned on staying at this little cafe for an hour but we only left around 8.30pm and the three of us headed to the restaurant.

Petunia was a very cheerful person, very optimistic. She never stopped smiling and we could see that she cared about her pregnancy. She didn't smoke, she didn't do drugs. She was a student and wanted to become a journalist. She led a balanced life. Her parents had accepted her decision regarding her pregnancy and they were supportive. In their own way. They thought that she had to assume the consequences of her acts so nobody but her had to take decisions for this child. Nobody but her and her boyfriend.

It is a matter of timing. They simply wanted the best for this child and assumed that other people would be able to do it better than them because it was happening too early in their life. The two of them were students. They didn't have a steady job. Yet putting their child for adoption didn't mean that they wanted to draw a line under this stage of their life, therefore the open system they had chosen together.

The fact Jane and I were a same-sex couple wasn't an issue either. They were open-minded and liked the fact that we lived in a house in Beacon Hill. Our respective jobs didn't bother them... Everything was perfect. The first one had turned out to be the right one.

We didn't meet any other mother. At the end of this first 'date', Petunia – Jane – and I were on the same page. We wanted to do it together. We still had to meet her boyfriend but he seemed to be just as trustful as she was. We were far – so far – from the cliché of the lost girl who gets pregnant and has no plan for her future. Petunia had an education, she was a bright girl.

She knew the sex of her baby too. It was a boy. She was due in June. It left us four months to get everything ready.

Four months might seem to be a lot of time but when you have been thinking about this moment for the past five years, it is the shortest parenthesis that you will ever face in your life. We had to close our files and make them approve by a jurisdiction. Then – and only then – we could think about details like the nursery room and baby names.

It wasn't stressing but overwhelming. Everything seemed to happen so fast, so suddenly. Too perfectly, perhaps. I don't know... When I think about it – retrospectively – way too many what-ifs invade me. I know that I shouldn't focus so much on the past but I can't help it.

Maybe it was meant to be. What I know? Jane always says it. Nothing happens by accident. There is always a meaning behind everything even if we don't like it.

So... Yes. It is hard to accept the idea but maybe it was meant to be.