Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“It’s not for diapers,” I said, “It’s a beach bag.”
“And we go to the beach so often in Manhattan,” Ethan said wryly. “I see trips to the Jersey shore in our future.”
“Or the farmhouse.”
“You mean the farmhouse that has a pond?” Leo put in, “The pond I’ve been having nightmares about for a month because I dreamed that the baby toddled too close to the edge and fell in? No. We don’t need a beach bag for that. We need an electrical fence around the pond.”
“Are you suggesting that we won’t be watching him closely or that you want to electrocute the baby if he veers toward water?” I said.
“Neither. It just scares the hell out of me.”
“We’re going to take good care of him. We’re fencing the backyard, remember?”
“Yeah, but what if he’s a climber? I was a climber by the time I was three.”
“You didn’t have four parents watching you like a hawk all the time,” Ethan said. Leo smiled sheepishly. Of the four of us, he turned out to be the worrier.
“I’ve been thinking about names,” I said.
“We have four more months,” Noah said. “There's no rush.”
“There is if you want to start monogramming stuff,” Ethan said, “The straw market was just a gateway drug on the way to full-on nesting mode. Buckle up, brother.”
“What did you have in mind?” Noah said.
“Well, I thought about Stewart for a middle name, you know, my last name. But I also really like Maple.”
“The syrup?” Leo said.
“The tree?” Ethan said.
“My shop. You know, my first baby. Maple is a beautiful, strong middle name.”
“What’s the first name?” Noah said. “Don’t say Muffin. Please don’t say muffin.”
“Sausage roll?” Leo said.
“Eggplant.” Ethan quipped.
I rolled my eyes at their wisecracks. “I had a couple of ideas. I did consider your suggestions—mostly pro bowl players from the Jets, by the way,” I said, lifting an eyebrow. But I didn’t think Gastineau Maple Foster was—”
“A name for a crappy craft beer maybe,” Leo said. “Which one of you jokers liked Mark Gastineau? At least I went for Namath.’
“He was a controversial figure in sports, but he’s a legend,” Ethan said.
“I should’ve known it was you,” Leo said.
“I didn’t suggest a football player’s name,” Noah said.
“Jet? You picked Jet, like the name of the team,” I laughed.
“Jet Foster is a cool name,” he said.
“Jet Foster, space cowboy?” Ethan said.
“Gastineau?” Noah returned and Ethan shrugged good naturedly.
“I thought William would be good.”
“That’s our grandpa’s name,” Leo said.
“The one who had the farmhouse, I know. But, I’m not sure you knew this—it’s also Joe Namath’s middle name!” I said, playing the ace up my sleeve with a crow of victory.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Noah said. “I’ll concede. It’s cooler than Jet.”
“It’s perfect, Mad,” Ethan said and kissed me.
Then, Leo let out a whoop and raised his cider glass. “To Madison and to the newest member of the family. William Maple Foster.”
We toasted to the baby and Ethan leaned over and whispered, “That’s so thoughtful and beautiful. Except for Maple. Not sure about Maple.”
“Really? After you suggested freakin’ Gastineau?” I snorted and we all laughed.
“I love all of you. Even if you do like weird names,” I said.
“Okay, maybe Namath was the greatest first name, but he was an incredible player,” Leo said, “Now dance with me. Right here on the beach. We downloaded that instrumental thing you like from Bridgerton and everything.”
Sure enough, the elegant string arrangement poured from the speaker of Noah’s phone as we stood up to dance barefoot along the shore under the moon. I shut my eyes for a minute and let the perfect moment wash over me, the sound of the waves and music mingling together with the laughter of the men I loved. It was a perfect starlit night on the beach, a perfect end to the tropical babymoon and beginning of the rest of our lives together.