Why on earth did you name your baby that?
It really wouldn’t have mattered what Wanda called her baby. Her grandmother would have stood there critical just the same, hands on hips of her floral house dress that had seen better moments, her birdy eyes demanding an explanation.
I read it somewhere in a magazine. It seemed important at the time. Charlie is our last name so it just worked out for us.
Wanda cradled Alpha in her arms twining her fingers through the downy black shock of hair he sported.
If I would have had a baby all by myself at your age, I would have brought shame on my family but you young people seem to be above all that these days. She was still shaking her head when Wanda held the baby out to her.
Wanna hold him?
Shifting on the bed, Wanda dangled her legs over the edge as she held the baby out, her toes were perfectly gradient with clear polish on the nails. Forever reminded that it was all Gram’s doing the women in the family were blessed with great legs and pretty feet, Wanda watched her grandmother set down her handbag on the rolling faux wood table now still by the bed.
Oh, I suppose I will.
Gram said this as though she were giving Wanda a break. Both of them knew perfectly well it was always the other way around.
Oh, look at the sweet little curl of his lips, they are shaped just like yours, Wanda, bless his little heart! A. B. Charlie, you are the prettiest baby the world has ever seen.
Wanda smiled. It was always like this with Gram. Give some, take some but always know when to hold some.
Easy as naming a baby.
She would tell Gram his real name soon enough.