JT shakes his head adamantly. “Oh, hell no. I love Mick like a brother, but we are not going there.”
As though we’ve summoned him, JT’s phone buzzes with another text from Mickey. I lean in close to read it.
Mickey:How’s Mickayla Olivia Willamena Petra DeAnna Rebecka Rose Norris doing? Her uncles want to see her.
He starts typing back a response, and his brow furrows.
JT: That’s not her name. And where the hell did Rebecka Rose come from?
Mickey: Uh… Beckett Vandaele and Ryan Roscowitz. They’re your friends and teammates. Maybe you’ve heard of them?
Mickey: I tried Mickayla Olivia Willomina DeAnna Vanna RyAnna, but that just sounded dumb.
JT: Right, right. My bad.
I laugh. “You’re right. Mickayla is out of the question. So, have you got any better ideas?”
“Maybe. You know how Ollie calls me Brick and it used to drive me crazy?”
“I’m not sure I like where this is headed,” I say.
“Stick with me. So, he calls me a brick wall and I always thought it was kinda dumb, but it isn’t. It means I protect what’s mine.”
“That’s totally accurate, but I’m still not hearing any baby girl names.”
JT sits next to me on the bed. “I checked that book we were looking at. There’s a section in the back where they have a whole list of words and the names that go with them. Like, did you know that the name Mel means fearless?”
“That tracks,” I say, thinking of our ballsy, brave friend.
“So, I found a name that might be perfect. It means fortress or protector. But it’s also the name of a flower.” His gaze drifts to where our daughter rests on my chest.
I kiss my handsome boyfriend. “I was in labor for seventeen hours. Are you seriously going to make me guess the name?”
“My bad. I got distracted.”
“By the sight of the world’s most beautiful baby?” I ask, still unable to believe how we created something this perfect.
JT’s cheeks turn pink. “Yes, absolutely. Of course. I was admiring our baby and definitely not staring at your tits. Anyway…are you ready for the name?”
“She’s almost ready to graduate high school. Yes, I’m ready,” I tease.
He smoothes his hand over her small soft cheek. “What do you think of Calla?”
Calla. Like the lilies Pop planted in Gam’s garden.
It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I think it’s perfect. Calla Baylor Norris.”
JT presses a kiss to my lips, then dials Mickey’s number. “Dude, what are you waiting for? Don’t you want to meet your niece?”
Mickey must have been as close to the door as the nurses would let him, because he walks into our room about two seconds after JT hangs up.
He slathers his hands with sanitizer before taking the baby from JT. He cradles her so gently, so securely that I want to cry. He’s not bouncing right now. He’s totally chill and completely present.
“Meet Calla,” JT says with pride.
“Kayla?” his best friend asks.
“Calla,” JT corrects.
