My family and I are sat in the front room with Pastor Jeff, going over plans for my father's funeral. This feels surreal, like I'm in a really terrible dream or like some harsh practical joke is being played on me. I keep half-expecting Dad to come through our front door and be like "Gotcha!" or something like that, but I know deep down that's never going to happen.
I've barely spoken since it happened. What is there to say? What could anybody say right now? I'm too sad and angry to speak.
"If there's any pictures of George you'd like to display at the ceremony, I'll need to get those," says Pastor Jeff.
"Oh, um," Mom says, seeming hesitant at the prospect of having to go through photos of her dead husband and choose which ones to display at his funeral.
"Don't worry, Mom, I'll take care of it," Georgie says. He's been taking care of a lot lately, trying to take the burden off of Mom. I think it's also his way of distracting himself from what happened. I wish I could do that.
"Did George have a favourite hymn or song that might be played?" Jeff asks.
"He did always play "Born to Be Wild" when the team ran out on the field," Georgie says, a bit of humour in his tone. It seems a little forced, and his smile doesn't reach his eyes.
"Not sure our organist knows that one," Jeff says with a smile on his face. It might just be me, but I fall to see the humour.
"I can bring a boom box," MeeMaw says, with a tone that says "this better happen."
"We'll call that plan B," Jeff smiles at her. Her expression is stony.
"Shelly, you alright?" Mom asks Sheldon, who is sitting and staring into space with a somewhat pained expression. Or, at least as pained as someone like Sheldon can manage.
"He's probably thinking about stupid Star Trek stuff," Missy says bitterly. She's been taking her anger out on everyone. Not me, though. Since I've barely been speaking, I haven't been giving her much ammo.
"I was thinking about alternate realities branching off from a single decision point. Only one of them was about Star Trek," Sheldon counters.
"We're talking about Dad's funeral," Missy snaps, annoyed. "Why don't you care?"
"The details of the funeral are irrelevant. They won't change anything," Sheldon responds.
"I can't wait for yours," Missy says venomously. I give her a horrified look.
"Hey, that's enough out of you two," Georgie interjects.
"You're not Dad. You don't tell us what to do," Missy says bitingly, and Georgie frowns at that, backing off.
"Well, I will, and that's enough!" MeeMaw yells.
"It's okay. It's healthy for everyone to let their feelings out," Jeff says, seemingly more for himself than for us.
"Oh, shut up, Jeff," Missy says, directing her vitriol at a new target. To be fair, the target is pretty easy.
"Missy! Go to your room," Mom says, mortified. One of Mom's number one rules is that you can't disrespect the Pastor. I've broken that rule several times, but not today.
"How about I just go?" Missy says, her voice breaking. She exits out the front door.
"I'm sorry about her," Georgie apologises to Jeff.
"No need to apologise," Jeff insists.
As the conversation continues, I notice that Sheldon is back to being distant and staring into space. Normally, he'd have something weird and scientific and possibly cold to contribute to this conversation. Right now, he doesn't. And neither do I, to any conversation.
…
A while later, Georgie taps me on the shoulder as I'm sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television. I turn slowly to face him, waiting for him to give me his reason for tapping me on the shoulder, which he knows I hate.
"I'm going to go pick up Dad's suit for the funeral," he says. "Wanna come with me?"
I think for a second, and then nod, standing and following him out the door. Hearing those words come out of his mouth feels like something out of a nightmare. Dad's suit for the funeral. He begins to get into his vehicle, but I make a small noise of discontentment.
"What?" he asks. I gesture to my car.
"You gonna let me drive it?" Georgie raises an eyebrow.
I nod. I don't have the energy to drive. I toss him my keys, and he catches them. He always was a good football player.
Football. That makes me think of Dad.
I climb into my own passenger seat, foreign to the feeling. Maybe I should have driven, given myself some sense of normalcy but like I said, I don't have the energy.
"Bit cramped quarters, don't you think?" Georgie asks as he starts the car. "Shouldn't you be thinkin' about gettin' a bigger car since you're havin' a kid and all?"
I glare at him, but give no verbal response. He sighs. "Still not talkin', huh?"
I give no response to this.
"Kinda makes me miss you being a smartass," Georgie admits. "It's better than you not talkin' at all. Missy's angry all the time, Sheldon keeps staring off into space, Mom's all about God and Jesus more so than she was. I thought you'd be lashin' out like Missy, but I think this is worse." His voice breaks a little at the end of his sentence.
I don't say anything, but I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it a little. He smiles a little. "Thanks, Cal."
I retract my hand. We pull into the parking lot of the dry cleaners. We walk into the building.
"Here to pick up a suit for Cooper," Georgie says, giving the lady the ticket.
"Oh, sure," the employee says, going to the rack. "George Cooper?"
"Yes, ma'am," Georgie affirms politely.
"Looks a little big for you," the employee comments, which I consider rude but as I'm apparently mute at the moment I can't start an argument with an innocent dry cleaners employee.
Georgie chuckles. "It's my dad's," he clarifies, but his smile has cracks in it.
"Nice of you to pick it up for him," the lady says. "That'll be eight dollars."
Georgie's expression falls and he pays the lady and takes the suit. We exit the building.
Dad only had one suit, which meant that the suit that Georgie was hanging on my grab handle in the back was the very same suit that he wore to the daddy-daughter dance back in '80.
I was an unruly four-year-old, refusing to let my very pregnant mother do my hair.
"I don't want my hair brushed!" I stomped my foot. "It hurts!"
"It hurts because you won't let me condition your curls," Mom explained. "I have to do that first."
"I don't want you to touch my hair!" I snapped.
Mom sighed, frustrated. Dad entered the bathroom where we were. "What's she doin' now?"
"She's refusin' to let me do her hair, and it needs to be done because I'm not havin' her go to that dance lookin' a mess," Mom said sternly, looking at me.
I stuck my tongue out at her, to which she gasped and Dad responded, "Now, you cut that out, Charlotte."
"I don't want my hair done!"
Dad kneeled down to my level and said, "Tell you what. If you're good for your Mom and let her do your hair, I'll take you to get ice cream at that diner you like after the dance. That sound good, pumpkin?"
I was instantly excited, jumping up and down. "Yes! Do my hair!" I said to Mom, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly and began to condition my hair.
"You okay, Callie?" Georgie asks. I look over and he's got a concerned expression. I feel the tears on my cheeks and realise I'd begun to cry. I wipe them off and nod.
"Doesn't look it, but alright," Georgie says. We exit the car and go into the house, Georgie having Dad's suit in his hand. When we go in, Georgie puts the suit down. He grabs my arm and pulls me into a tight, nearly bone-crushing hug. That's when I break down, sobbing into his shoulder. Georgie begins to cry, too.
We don't say anything. There's no need to. There's nothing that could be said that hasn't been said already. We're just two kids who suddenly lost their dad, what could we say, anyway?
…
Before we know it, the funeral comes. Everyone Dad knew is here. Even Eainn and Elise Pierce flew in on short notice. Jacqueline, the Lankfords, the McCrearys, the Jacksons, and the Jamesons are present. I'm standing against a wall when Eainn, Elise, and Jacqueline approach.
Eainn is the first to speak, his brogue thick. "Your father was a grand man, Callie. Despite his lack of taste in sports, of course," he says with a small smile. "Don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything, lass." Elise nods in agreement.
I don't say anything, but give them a small smile and a nod.
"She ain't been talkin'," Jacqueline says to them. They nod, seeming to understand. Eainn and Elise move on, but Jacqueline leans against the wall beside me. She looks as if she's been crying, but she doesn't say anything, seeming to understand that I won't respond. That's fine. It's nice just to be beside her.
The Jamesons are next to approach me. Declan gives a sympathetic smile. "We are so sorry for your loss, Charlotte," Declan says. I nod in thanks. Liam gives me a side hug.
"Please, let us know if there's anything we can do," Amelia says earnestly. I nod again in thanks. They move on, Liam giving me a pat on the shoulder. Jacqueline glares at him, but he disregards it. "It's not about us," he reminds her before he follows his parents away.
The Lankfords - Sharon, Renee, and David- are next in line. Renee gives me a nod, a rare sympathetic look in her eye. I return it, and Sharon puts her hand on my shoulder. "George was a good man," she says. "He will be missed. Let us know if there's anything we can do for you. We'll be prayin' for you."
I retain a scoff at that last part. If prayer worked, Dad would be here right now. I nod in thanks and they move on, except for Renee, who takes a place against the wall beside Jacqueline. I'm kind of tired of hearing the same things over and over already.
The McCrearys - Denise, her older sister Destiny, and their parents Joanna and Stephan - are next up. "I'm so sorry for your loss," Joanna says to me.
"Bet ol' George is up there tellin' those angels how to play ball," Stephan says with a smile. Stephan does comedy for a living.
I humour him with a chuckle, despite not really finding him funny. Jacqueline notices the sound, and she bears a small look of relief. Denise takes a place against the wall beside Renee.
The Jacksons - Gina, her little sister Christina, and her parents Roy and Elizabeth - are the last family to express their condolences to me. Gina takes her place against the wall beside Denise. The rest of her family moves on.
Here I am, leaning against the wall at my father's funeral, my best friends beside me. None of us speak, but as I look ahead, I can feel their eyes on me. I still don't have anything to say.
I notice Missy going up to say her last words to Dad. I can't hear what she's saying because she's too far away, but I suddenly realise that it's something I need to do, too. I'll wait for my siblings though.
After Georgie goes to say his piece, I approach the casket. I stare at my father for a second, his lifeless, puffed up form in front of me still feeling like some sort of practical joke. I clear my throat a little before whispering. "I can't believe you're gone, Dad." I say, before tears start spilling down my face. "You were just here. It doesn't make sense. I guess all I have to say is that I'm sorry." I pause to collect myself. "I'm sorry that I wasn't a better daughter. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I loved you enough. I'm sorry that I fought so much with Mom and dragged you into it…I…I'm just sorry. I'm sorry that you won't get to meet your second granddaughter." I say. We found out the sex of the baby a few days ago. "And I love you, Dad. I think you knew that, though. Thank you for knowing me." I can't think of anything else to say, so I walk away and join my family. Mom's coming back from asking Sheldon if he wants to say a few words. Since he's not heading for the casket, I guess he refused.
"When I quit the football team," Georgie is saying at the podium after a while. "I thought my dad was gonna kill me. And then, when I quit high school, I really thought he was gonna kill me. Then, when I got my girlfriend pregnant… I was sure he was gonna kill me. But as you can see, he didn't. No matter what I did, he always had my back. I love you, Dad"
I'm next up to the podium. I sigh, knowing these will be the first words my family will hear me say in a few days. "Hey," I say into the microphone. "I'm Callie Cooper, George's oldest daughter," I introduce myself. "Some of you know me but you don't see me here often," I chuckle humourlessly, "probably seen me in the back of a squad car more often, right?"
The attendees chuckle politely. Even Mom smiles a little.
"I haven't really been the best kid," I admit shakily, "and I'm sorry," I say, looking directly at Mom. Mom looks mildly surprised, but nods a little. "And Dad had to deal with me acting up a lot. Somehow, he always knew how, when even now I'm still learning how to deal with myself. I can only hope that I learn the kind of forgiveness and patience that he had." I nod, signalling I'm done, and return to the pew.
"That was beautiful, Callie," MeeMaw says.
"Thanks," I say quietly. I look at my shoes, not making eye contact with anyone. I feel Georgie's arm around me, but I still don't look up.
"And now George's loving wife Mary would like to say a few words. Mary," Jeff says, stepping away from the podium.
I look up, and like the rest of my siblings, watch Mom walk up to the podium.
"Thank you, Pastor Jeff," Mom says into the microphone. "Um…" she clears her throat and takes a deep breath. "I met George in high school," she starts. "Well, I was in high school. He was an older man with a motorcycle."
There's light laughter from the congregation, and Mom continues.
"I'd like to tell you he caught my eye, but actually it was the motorcycle."
There's more laughter.
But then Mom hesitates and her voice begins to break, "I'm sorry, I can't… do this. I am… so angry." She sighs shakily. "George and I had our ups and downs, but we were finally in such a good place, and then he… left." She begins crying. "He left all of us. How-how could you do that?" She says, pointing at the closed casket. MeeMaw begins to get up and head toward the podium. "I am so mad at him. I'm mad at God, I'm mad at myself for not trying harder while he was here. This wasn't supposed to happen." The last part is barely intelligible as MeeMaw pulls Mom into her arms. Missy begins to break down beside me and Georgie gestures for her to come sit beside him, between me and him, and puts a comforting arm around her.
"Okay. Oh. Thank you, thank you, darling, thank you. Jeff, could you…?" MeeMaw says to Jeff, signalling for him to guide Mary back to her seat.
"Very heartfelt. I know this is hard for everyone. It's certainly hard for me. But no one… is more upset with George's passing than the Lone Star Beer company. That flag is at half-mast," MeeMaw jokes.
I smile a little.
"On the other hand, there's a lot of cows out there that are breathing a sigh of relief. As the king of brisket has put down his fork and ridden off into the sunset."
I smile again, a small chuckle escaping from my lips.
"And, uh, I'll tell you something…" MeeMaw says.
"Why are they laughing at Dad?" Missy asks Georgie, upset.
"'Cause they love him," Georgie answers. I put an arm around Missy.
"…that I always kind of kept to myself, but… I wasn't always a big supporter of George and Mary being an item." MeeMaw admits. "As a matter of fact, whenever he came to visit, I would always invite Mary's slutty friend Janice over, hoping to catch his interest."
She waves to someone in the congregation. "Hey, Janice. Thanks for coming. You're a doll. Anyway… George only had eyes for Mary. And of course brisket."
People laugh again. Even Missy chuckles a little through her tears.
"And over the years, he surely earned my respect. He was a good man," MeeMaw says, her voice breaking. "And I will always be proud… to call him my son." MeeMaw puts her hand on the casket before returning to her seat.
A few more people pay their respects to my dad, and then Pastor Jeff returns to the podium. "Before our final prayer, would anyone else like to say a few words?"
"Missy?" Mom asks.
Missy shakes her head and mouths, "No."
"Shelly?"
Sheldon shakes his head.
"Let's bow our heads in prayer." Jeff says.
I bow my head politely, but do not join in the prayer.
…
It's been 27 days since my Dad's funeral. Mom has been forcing Sheldon and Missy to go to church more often, and they're not happy with it. I heard Sheldon brought a laptop to church the other day. Right now, we're having dinner. KFC.
"Why is there still a placemat there?" Sheldon asks, referring to the placemat at the head of the table where Dad used to sit.
"That's your father's seat," Mom responds, like it should be obvious.
"But he's not here," Sheldon says.
"Let it go," I say softly.
"He's here in spirit," Mom says, trying to keep patient with him. I sigh.
"No, he's not," Sheldon argues.
"Shut up, Sheldon," Missy snaps, tears in her eyes. I reach over and squeeze her shoulder in support.
"Chicken's good, Mary," Mandy comments.
"Thank the Colonel. I wasn't up to cooking."
"11 secret herbs and spices. It's a delicious mystery," Georgie says, trying to lighten the mood.
"Mandy, did you change the topic to fried chicken because my topic was awkward?" Sheldon asks, ever the one who needs to understand.
"I did."
"And is it awkward that I'm bringing it up again?"
"It's getting there." Mandy says, trying to maintain some form of politeness.
"It's not a magic chair, anyone can sit there, and even if spirits existed, which they don't-"
"SHELDON!" I yell, interrupting him. Everyone turns to me, surprised. I put my face in my hands. "Sorry," I murmur. I didn't mean to react so harshly, but he was pissing me off.
"It's fine, Callie," Georgie says. He turns to Sheldon, "If I sit in it, will you please stop talking about it?"
"I suppose so."
"Fine," Georgie says, also seeming as pissed as I am at Sheldon. He's taking his plate, napkin, and drink and getting up. He heads for Dad's spot, but hesitates after he puts the plate down.
Mom, Mandy, Missy and I talk over each other all at once:
"No." From Mom.
"Don't do it." From Missy.
"Stop!" From Mandy.
"Georgie!" From me.
Georgie sighs in relief. "Thank you." He heads back to his spot.
Mom sighs. "There's something I have been thinking about that I would like you kids to consider. I want you both to get baptised."
Sheldon clears his throat. "Mm. This is some good chicken." He turns to Mandy. "See how I changed the subject when Mom made it awkward?"
"No, I am serious. This is important. It is about saving your souls." Mom insists.
"I'm not doing it," Sheldon refuses.
"Me neither," Missy agrees.
"It ain't no big deal. I did it," Georgie says.
"Really?" Mandy asks.
"Yeah, he kissed a girl in the tub, and she punched him in the face," Missy says, always happy to provide the gossip.
Georgie gives her a look that says, "dude, you did not just say that."
"Really?" Mandy asks, sounding jealous.
"I'm gonna say pepper's one of the secret spices. That leaves ten," Georgie says, hoping to evade an argument. It seems to work.
"Okay, enough changing the subject. You two are getting baptised, and that is the end of the discussion," Mom says firmly.
"You can't make us," Missy says.
"End of discussion," Mom raises her voice.
"No," I say, "they're right. You cannot make them."
"I am their mother, and they will do what I say," Mom argues.
"And God, as their heavenly father, gave them free will. You wanna use yours to take theirs away?" I ask, thinking that maybe speaking her language to her might help.
"They are getting baptised. This is final." Mom emphasises.
"Great," I say sarcastically.
"So, tell me about this girl you kissed," Mandy demands of Georgie.
"Can we please talk about something else?" Georgie complains.
"Fine," Mandy says.
"Her name was Veronica Duncan, and he was madly in love with her for years," Sheldon says, unable to keep his big mouth shut.
"End of discussion," Georgie says, upset that Sheldon just revealed that information.
"She kind of looked like you," Missy tells Mandy, making it worse.
"Except taller and younger," Sheldon says, also making it worse.
"Mm-hmm," Missy agrees.
"Shut. Up." I hiss through my teeth.
Mandy gives Georgie a "we're definitely gonna talk about that later" look.
After a while, Mandy takes Missy out to do something. She had invited me, but I declined, opting to lie in bed for a while. I think about how much has just suddenly changed. How much of my life is different from how it used to be. I'm expecting a daughter, my dad is dead…this was never how I planned it. I don't know what the future holds, but if things keep going South like this, I don't know what I'm going to do. Missy is temperamental, Sheldon is still somehow acting like the world revolves around him, Mom has become an insufferable zealot, Georgie is also more angry than he normally is. So am I.
Nothing is ever going to be the same, is it?
…
The next morning, I pass by Sheldon's room. I notice he's taking his things down from shelves and putting them in boxes. "So, you're still going?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe. "Even after Dad?"
"Yes, I am, Callie. Dad would have wanted me to stay focused," Sheldon says.
I nod. "Can't argue with that. It's just…you're not reconsidering, at all?"
Sheldon shakes his head solemnly.
"May I sit on your bed, or is that an overstep?" I ask, privy to my little brother's quirks. He likes his space to be undisturbed by anyone but him, so I ask him before I do anything in his space.
"Sure, just keep it tidy," Sheldon says, sounding resigned but accommodating.
I sit on his bed. It isn't as comfortable as mine is but whatever floats his boat. "You gonna be okay all by yourself in Pasadena?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Sheldon says, trying to sound confident despite the obvious uncertainty in his voice.
"As long as you're sure," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"As sure as one can reasonably expect in the face of uncertainty," Sheldon says.
"You sure you're okay? You're not just avoiding grief, right?" I ask, concern tinging my tone.
"You know me, Callie. I've chosen to process it logically," Sheldon says, although it seems as if he may be lying.
"Alright. I guess that makes sense for you," I sigh, accepting that his ways of coping are different.
Mom enters the room, clearing her throat. We look at her. "Hey, what are y'all up to?"
"We're talking, mother. Callie was just asking if I'm okay going to Pasadena alone," Sheldon informs her, and I nod.
"That's sweet of you to check on him, Callie," Mom says with a smile, a hint of tension in her tone.
I ignore the tension and nod. "Just doing my sisterly duties."
I notice her smile tighten and she says, "I'm sure Sheldon appreciates you looking out for him." She turns her attention to Sheldon. "You're taking your toy trains?"
"They're not toys," Sheldon corrects. "They're historically accurate facsimiles."
"They go "woo woo" when you press the button, right?"
"They're not joyless facsimiles," Sheldon asserts.
"Okay, well, I'll see ya later," Mom says, starting to turn to leave.
"Where are you going?" Sheldon questioned curiously.
"To the cemetery to visit your dad. I don't suppose you want to join me?" Mom asks.
"He's not there," Sheldon states.
"I know he's not there, he's in heaven. Because he got baptised," Mom responds.
"Hmm. Kudos on the rhetorical ambush. Although, if he's in heaven, why are you going to the cemetery? Ha, gotcha." Sheldon says.
"Sheldon," I huff. "Mom, I'll go with you."
"Are you sure?" Mom asks, sounding sceptical.
"Yes," I affirm. "I want to visit Dad, too."
"Okay," Mom nods. "Let's go then. Sheldon, this conversation about your baptism is not over."
"Wouldn't expect it to be," Sheldon responds as we leave the room.
"Wanna stop by and get some flowers for his grave?" I ask Mom as we enter her vehicle. She's going through enough, I'm not going to force her to get in my car.
"That's a nice idea, Charlotte," she says. It sounds sincere, which is rare between us.
"Thanks," I smile a little.
At the grave, Mom kneels to pray, setting the flowers on Dad's grave. "Are you gonna kneel with me?"
"No," I shake my head. "I'm 27 weeks pregnant. If I kneel, I'm not getting back up."
Mom nods in understanding.
"Hey," we hear a voice say from nearby. I look up and it's MeeMaw. "Funny meetin' y'all here. Brought George a Lone Star." She sets the bottle on the headstone.
"That's nice, but they don't drink in Heaven," Mom rejects it, causing me to huff. How does she know what they do in Heaven?
"Well, let's not let that go to waste," MeeMaw says, picking the bottle up and opening it to take a sip out of it.
"How'd you know we were here?" I ask MeeMaw.
"Sheldon," MeeMaw says.
"I'm worried about him," Mom frets.
MeeMaw turns to Mom. "He's worried about you." After a moment she adds, "I'm worried about you."
"Me? I'm doing fine. Jesus is helping me through," Mom says, as if she's trying to convince herself as well as her mother.
"I don't question that," MeeMaw says. "But I do question why you're not spending more time with your son who's leaving in a few days, and your daughter who may be leaving as we speak."
"She's doing okay," Mom says.
I reply, "No, mom. She isn't."
"She's not," MeeMaw backs me up. "You just don't know that 'cause you're spending all your time praying."
"I'm praying for them," Mom defends.
"Mary… they don't need your prayers. They need their mother."
"And I need to know that their souls are saved."
"Oh, I should've brought more beer," MeeMaw laments.
"I know that I'm not winning any popularity contests," Mom says, more aggressively than she should, "but I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make sure that my kids are safe. In this life and the next."
"Damn. I really thought I was gonna bring ya around," MeeMaw says sarcastically.
I want to call Mom out on her B.S, but I've been trying to do that less often lately. I look at my Dad's headstone. He wouldn't want the family to be at war. I need to try to keep peace where I can.
…
I've already decided I don't care to attend Sheldon and Missy's baptism. It's something they're being forced to do, that their hearts aren't in, so who cares? If I wanted to see them submerged in water, I'd shove them into a pool.
Instead, I go to the gas station. Giovanni and Gina are sitting around back, smoking cigarettes. As they see me approach, they put their cigarettes out. "Long time no see, Callie!" Giovanni shouts.
"Yeah, I've been busy. I also don't smoke anymore, so what do we have in common?" I joke, and Giovanni laughs.
He sobers after a minute. "I'm sorry to hear about your father," he says sympathetically.
"Yeah, I'm sorry too," I sigh.
"He was too young," Giovanni remarks.
"How's your Mom doin'?" Gina asks me, a look of concern on her face. "Still on the Jesus B.S.?"
"It's not B.S.," I defend. "Not to her, anyway. I really think she needs something to believe in right now."
Gina nods in understanding. "And your siblings?"
"Georgie's trying to be strong. Missy's mad at everything. Sheldon is…well, he's Sheldon."
Gina sighs. "That boy ain't right."
"You got that right," I sigh.
"How's the baby?" Gina asks, nodding at my belly.
"She's fine, really healthy. I'm not having the time of my life, though," I say. I have been constantly uncomfortable lately. Doctor says it's normal, I say the doctor can kiss my ass. Apparently, that's not nice to actually say to the doctor.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how that feels," Gina says with a small smile.
"Gee, thanks," I chuckle. "I gotta go. Gotta see Liam."
They wave their goodbyes.
I drive to Liam's house. I notice Declan and Amelia's vehicles are gone. So that's why he didn't meet me somewhere else. They're not going to be home to interrupt. I knock on the door. He opens it right away. "Hey," he smiles. "Come in."
I enter the house.
"So, I was thinking," Liam says. "About a name for our daughter."
"And what did you come up with?" I ask cautiously, hoping he didn't come up with something totally dumb.
"I was thinking about…maybe Georgia?"
"Georgia?"
"Yeah, after your dad. What do you think?" Liam asks.
I think for a second.
"I…I think that's perfect."
And it is.