“G.G.,” I mutter to Sabrina. “As in Garrett Graham.”
She’s silent for a beat. Then she bursts out laughing, triggering giggles from Grace and eventually Hannah, who keeps shaking her head at her boyfriend.
“What?” Garrett says defensively. “The godfather should have a say in the name. It’s in the rule book.”
“What rule book?” Hannah bursts out. “You make up the rules as you go along!”
“So?”
“Besides, you haven’t been crowned godfather yet,” I point out with a smirk, just as Fitzy and Logan drift into the kitchen. I jerk a thumb toward Logan. “This dumbass is still in the running.”
“Actually…” Garrett beams at us. “Logan’s out of the race.”
I twist in my chair to look at our teammate. “Since when?”
Logan’s expression instantly goes shuttered. “I decided to bow out,” he mutters. “It’s a big responsibility.”
A loud snort sounds from Garrett’s vicinity. “You decided to bow out? Is that what we’re calling it?”
Logan glowers at him. “It’s what we’re calling it because it’s true.”
“Yeah?” Garrett hops to his feet. “Be right back.”
Sabrina and I exchange puzzled glances as he steps out of the kitchen. I hear him moving around in the living room. A moment later he pops back into sight and whips up his hands in front of Logan’s face.
“Then how do you explain this?”
Sabrina yelps in horror.
Me, I’m just really curious to hear why Garrett is holding a tiny newborn doll.
Which is missing its head, by the way.
“You fucking took it home?” Logan sounds outraged.
“Hell yeah I did. What use were they going to have for it there? It doesn’t have a head, bro.”
“Where’s ‘there’?” I ask carefully, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Newborn CPR,” Garrett explains. “We took a course at the campus health center this morning.”
“Newborn CPR?” Sabrina shakes her head, dazed.
“It was the grace under pressure test.” Garrett smiles smugly. “Which he failed. I, of course, passed with flying colors.”
“Is it my fault I don’t know my own strength?” Logan protests.
“Yes!” Garrett says in a spurt of laughter. “That is totally your fault.” He holds up the doll and waves it around tauntingly. “Show me on the doll where your brain is. Oh right, you can’t. Because you fucking decapitated it.”
Sabrina turns to me. “Can we go upstairs and pack now?”
“You guys are scaring Sabrina,” Hannah grumbles at the bickering idiots. “Babe, put that doll away. And Logan, remind me to never let you babysit my future children.” With that, she refocuses her attention on Sabrina. “Okay, assuming we’re putting a pin in Gigi, what other names are you thinking about?”
Sabrina and I exchange another look. “We haven’t even discussed it,” she admits.
“Are there any names you like in general?”
Sabrina ponders it. “I like the name Charlotte.”
“Oh, I love that!” Grace exclaims. “Charlotte Tucker. It has a nice ring to it.”
“Charlotte James,” Sabrina corrects.
I glare at her. “Her last name is going to be Tucker.”
“No it’s not. It’s going to be James.”
“What about Tucker-James?” Fitzy calls out as he grabs a beer from the fridge.
“No,” we say in unison. Not because we’re against hyphens, but because we’re both stubborn jerks.
I didn’t realize I felt so strongly about my daughter having my last name, but I do. Hell, if it was up to me, Sabrina would have my last name too. But that would require us getting married, which would require me to propose, and I’m pretty sure she’d flee to another continent if I did that. We might be sleeping together again, but I can tell she’s still fighting the idea that we’re in an actual relationship.
For some reason, the silly girl thinks she has to do everything alone.
“Okay.” Hannah grins. “How about we table the first name discussion until you’ve solved the surname quandary?”
That sounds like a good idea. The last thing I want to do is argue with Sabrina in front of all my friends. “Let’s go upstairs and do some packing,” I tell Sabrina.
Nodding, she allows me to help her out of her chair.
From his perch at the counter, Garrett’s expression turns glum. “I can’t believe you’re moving out.”
I roll my eyes. “You guys are moving out too.”
“Yeah, but not for two more weeks.”
I notice that Logan looks equally bummed at the prospect of my leaving today. They wanted to throw me a goodbye party, but I said no, because technically this isn’t goodbye. I’m just moving to Boston, which is where they’ll both be in a few months anyway.