214 Palmer Street(68)

The seed of the idea started that day in the grocery store. Hearing about the baby brought emotions to light that had been, I found out, only superficially tamped down. How could these two women be so joyful when my brother was still dead? Worse yet, this woman’s son was part of it all and my mother was congratulating her on her new grandchild? Did she not realize that the Adens were still coming out ahead of us? There would be no grandchild in my family. Jeremy was dead and I was stuck in my parents’ house, the one left behind. The family life raft. I would never find happiness or have children of my own.

To add insult to injury, I had to listen to my own mother telling Sarah, “There’s nothing like having a son. Boys really love their mothers.” What? As if I was nothing. As if having a devoted daughter was a consolation prize.

No. This was not right. Not right at all.

While Mom had waxed poetic about the joys of a son with Sarah, I thought back to the rest of the conversation in the grocery store. After Judy had announced it was a boy, I couldn’t resist making a comment. “Maybe she’ll name him Kirk.”

Judy’s face dropped in horror. “Oh, I hope not. I mean, it’s up to her, but that would be heartbreaking. A constant reminder.” The old woman surveying the spices finally found what she was looking for, plucking a jar of cinnamon off the shelf and adding it to her cart. All that time and trouble for a little jar of cinnamon.

I said, “You’d probably get used to it eventually, and start associating the name with the new baby.” I didn’t have any preferences in baby names either way, but it was satisfying to see that I’d struck a nerve.

“No.” Judy shook her head. “I’d never get used to it and it would be a knife in my heart. I think the baby needs to have his own name and identity. That would be best.”

“If it comes up you can just let her know how you feel,” my mom offered.

Judy sighed. “Bert and I talked about it and we’re not going to offer any opinions about the baby unless she asks. We already talked her out of moving back east. We don’t want to be overbearing.”

Hearing Kirk’s name would be a knife to her heart. I smiled thinking of what I’d done. A small retribution, but for now, it was good enough.





FORTY-SIX





Sarah found Phil in the kitchen, surveying a line-up of small appliances on the island. Most of them had been gifts from her mother-in-law, high-end machines designed to make life easier. In actuality, she’d only used most of them once or twice, and then afterward tucked them away in a cabinet, forgetting she even owned them. She looked over the collection: an espresso maker, juicer, two Instant Pots, a mixer, bread maker, and a food processor.

“Any of these coming with you?” he asked as she entered the room.

Sarah took a seat at the counter. “Only the juicer and food processor.” She imagined both would come in handy with a baby. Her son.

“Can I take one of the Instant Pots?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Help yourself.”

“Cool.” He nodded approvingly, resting his hand on the larger of the two. “I’ve been eyeing one of these bad boys for a while, but couldn’t justify the expense. I have to say that rich people’s cast-offs are better than anything I can afford.”

“I’m not rich,” she said, giving him a smile. “I just don’t have to worry about money.”

“That, Sarah Aden, is the exact definition of rich.” He sat on the stool next to her. “I have a confession to make.” He exhaled loudly. “I was eavesdropping on you and your visitors.” His soft features formed an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I should have included you.”

“It’s probably best that you didn’t. It seemed pretty personal.”

“It was an odd visit. I was a little worried when I saw Stephanie at the door, but they were nice. I guess it’s good that we talked. Now if I see them out in public it won’t be so awkward.” She tapped her fingers on the counter. “One weird thing. After Mrs. Bickley went to the car, Stephanie ran back and told me—off the record—that they’d run into my mother-in-law at the grocery store and she told them that they want me to name the baby Kirk.” Sarah’s curved fingers rested on the crest of her stomach. Baby Kirk? It just didn’t sound right. She continued, “Judy said they won’t say anything to me, but they’re secretly hoping I pick that name.”

“Do you want to name him Kirk?” As usual, Phil pared the issue down to its core.

“No,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “I don’t. It’s probably the last name I would have thought of on my own. But they lost a son and if it would make them happy…” She sighed. “I guess I could get used to it.”

He reached over and clapped a brotherly hand on her shoulder. “Look at you, being all martyr-ish. I say, it’s your kid. Name him what you want.”

“You think?” She met his eyes.

“I do. It would be a nice gesture, but there already was a Kirk Aden. Let your son have his own identity. Plus, you don’t even know that Judy said that. Stephanie sounded bitter to me. For all you know she made the whole thing up.”

She tilted her head to regard him quizzically. “I can’t believe she’d outright lie about it. I mean, why would she?”