From somewhere in the room, music starts to play. It’s some peppy pop tune they play all the time on the radio, so, of course, I love it.
“Blaire told me she didn’t want any games at this baby shower, but it’s kind of obligatory,” Casey says, playing the hostess. “Since Blaire has elected not to reveal the baby’s name I thought we could make a guessing game out of it. Hannah is going to go around with slips of paper and pencils and you can write down what you think the name is and stick it in this bowl. You don’t win anything, but I figured Blaire could read them aloud at the end and it might give us all a laugh.”
I don’t tell them but the reason I haven’t revealed the name is because I haven’t decided. Nothing feels right.
I sit there quietly while everyone scribbles down their name choices and then stuffs it in the glass bowl.
When that’s done, Casey takes the reins once more. “For the next game, we’re going to guess how big Blaire’s belly is. Hannah, do you have the string?”
“Nope, I do,” Chloe chimes.
“Oh, okay.” Casey laughs. “Chloe will go around with the string and you cut off how much you think it’ll take to go around her belly. The person with the best guess will win a gift card.”
“You suck,” I tell her.
“You’ll thank me later,” she says under her breath.
I shake my head.
Luckily, the games don’t last long and she moves on to the present opening. I’m shocked by the amount of items I get. Blankets, onesies, diapers, pacifiers, bottles, a bouncer, a bassinet, and so much more. I’m honestly so touched.
Tears of happiness pool in my eyes. “Thank you, guys. Thank you.” I can’t get over all the stuff around me and the amount of care and love my daughter and I are surrounded by. “The fact that this little one is already so loved means so much to me,” I say, damming back the tears.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I won’t.
“Aw, Blaire, of course she’s loved.” Casey hugs me.
Loraine smiles over at me and reaches for my hand. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.
“Cake time!” Hannah cries, eliminating the serious tone in the room.
She cuts off slices of the pink and white polka dot cake and Casey and Chloe pass it out to everyone.
I take a bite and suppress the moan that wants to escape my throat. “This is so good,” I say. “You guys did good. With all of this.” I indicate the way they decorated. I might be the party planner but they certainly didn’t need my help. Pink and white balloons are tied up throughout the room and they cover the back wall with white curtains to soften the space. There are other dashes of pink and white through the room in the forms of candles, confetti, and even the pillows they put on the couch.
“Thanks.” Casey smiles, eating her own slice of cake. “We were happy to do it.” I finish my cake and Casey takes my plate before I can get up to throw it away. “Now it’s time to read the names.” She giggles. I’m a bit afraid to know what she put in there.
She hands me the bowl of names and I take a deep breath before plunging my hand inside.
I pull out the first slip of paper and open it up. “Daisy … cute,” I say.
“That’s mine.” Hannah does a little happy dance where she sits—I think the happy dance has more to do with the frosting she’s licking from the fork than the name itself.
“Penelope,” I read. “Melina. Julie. Lissa.”
“That’s mine,” Casey says, leaning against the chair I sit in.
I go on reading. “Peter … you do know the baby’s a girl, right?” I laugh.
“Peter’s an excellent gender neutral name,” a guy from group jokes.
“Uh-huh,” I say. “It definitely is.” I drop the slip of paper to the floor with the rest. “Amber.”
“Mine!” Chloe’s hand shoots in the air.
“Isabella, Sarah, Zoey, and …” I pick the last one out of the bowl. “Ava.”
I smile. I like that one.
“It means bird.”
I look up at Ryder. “What?” I say, stunned.
“Ava. It means bird, that’s why I chose it.” My breath catches.
I really am going to cry this time.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, rubbing my fingers against the piece of paper with the three simple letters.
Around me, I know Casey, Hannah, and Chloe are urging people out the door so they can clean up but I’m oblivious to it. I can’t stop staring at the name.
Ava. Bird. My little paper bird. That’s her name. I know it.
“So,” Casey says, dropping plates into a trash bag, “are you going to tell us about the guy?”
“What guy?” I ask, still focused on the name.
She huffs. “Ryder. It was obvious from the moment he walked in that you guys were close. He said he painted the nursery, and the way he talks about you … There’s definitely something going on with you two, so spill.”