‘Caroline,’ she was saying in a singsong voice, drawing out each syllable. ‘Who’s my pretty Caroline girl?’
I filled my cup up again, then walked into the living room. She was leaning over the baby, who was on her stomach, struggling to hold up that big, possibly flat head. ‘Caroline,’ she said, tickling the baby’s back. ‘Miss Pretty Caroline West.’
‘I thought her name was Thisbe,’ I said.
Heidi jumped, startled, then looked up at me. ‘Auden,’ she stammered. ‘I… I didn’t hear you come in.’
I looked at her, then at the baby, then back at her again. ‘I was actually just passing through,’ I told her, and turned to go. I thought I was safe, but then, just as I reached the stairs, she spoke.
‘I don’t like the name!’ When I turned back, she looked up at the ceiling, her face flushed, like someone else had said this. Then she sighed, sitting back on her heels. ‘I don’t,’ she said slowly, more quietly. ‘I wanted to name her Isabel. It’s the name of one of my best friends here in Colby, and I’d always loved it.’
Hearing this, I looked longingly up the stairs in the direction of my dad’s office, wishing, as I always did, that he was here to deal with this instead of me. But lately he’d been even more immersed in his book, the apples piling up uneaten.
‘So,’ I said to Heidi, walking back over to her, ‘why didn’t you?’
She bit her lip, smoothing her hand over the baby’s back. ‘Your father wanted her to have a literary name,’ she said. ‘He said Isabel was too pedestrian, common, that with it, she’d never have a chance at greatness. But I worry Thisbe is just too unusual, too exotic. It’s got to be hard to have a name hardly anyone’s ever heard of, don’t you think?’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘not necessarily.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh!
Auden! I wasn’t saying that yours –’
‘I know, I know,’ I said, holding up my hand to fend off this apology, which would likely have gone on for ages. ‘I’m just saying, from experience, it hasn’t really been a hindrance. That’s all.’
She nodded, then looked back down at Thisbe. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I guess that is good to know.’
‘But if you don’t like it,’ I told her, ‘just call her Caroline. I mean –’
‘Who’s being called Caroline?’
I jumped, turning to see my dad, standing at the bottom of the stairs. Clearly, I was not the only one creeping around. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I was just saying it’s the baby’s middle name –’
‘Middle name,’ he repeated. ‘And only because her mother insisted. I wanted to name her Thisbe Andromeda.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heidi wince. ‘Really?’ I said.
‘It’s powerful!’ he replied, pounding his chest for emphasis. ‘Memorable. And it can’t be shortened or cutified, which is how a name should be. If you were an Ashley or a Lisa, and not an Auden, do you think you’d be so special?’
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to answer this. Did he actually expect me to agree that it was his choice of name, and not all my hard work, that had gotten me where I was?
Luckily, it seemed to be a rhetorical question, as he was already en route to the fridge, where he pulled out a beer. ‘I think,’ Heidi said, glancing at me, ‘that while names are important, it’s the person who really defines themselves. So if Thisbe is a Thisbe, that’s great. But if she wants to be a Caroline, then she has that option.’
‘She is not,’ my dad said, popping his beer, ‘going to be a Caroline.’
I just looked at him, trying to figure out when, exactly, he’d gotten so pompous and impossible. He couldn’t have been like this my entire life. I would have remembered it. Wouldn’t I?
‘You know,’ Heidi said quickly, scooping the baby up and coming into the kitchen, ‘I don’t even know your middle name, Auden. What is it?’
I kept my eyes on my dad, steadily, as I said, ‘Penelope.’
‘See?’ said my dad to her, as if this proved something. ‘Strong. Literary. Unique.’
Embarrassing, I thought. Too long. Pretentious. ‘That’s lovely!’ Heidi said too enthusiastically. ‘I had no idea.’
I didn’t say anything, instead just downed the rest of my coffee and put the cup in the sink. I could feel Heidi watching me, though, even as my dad headed out onto the front deck with his beer. I heard her take in a breath, about to say something, but luckily, then my dad was calling her, asking what she wanted to do for dinner.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said, glancing at me as she put Thisbe in her bouncy seat, which was on the kitchen table. She fastened her in, then shot me an apologetic look as she stepped outside to join him. ‘What are you in the mood for?’