“What on earth are you doing?”
I’d walked in thinking that banner was about the grandmother my son had and the one he’d lost. But look at that room.
Grandma was everywhere. Grandma on the walls. Grandma on the banner. And almost nothing, not one thing, said a baby was being born to me.
He carried Diane’s chair away from mine and set his own beside me. He sat.
Then he turned to the guests.
“Fixing my wife’s baby shower.”
“My mother gave you some wrong information. Our son’s name is not Benjamin. We haven’t named him. Nobody but his parents gets to.”
Diane let out a tinkly laugh.
“Oh, honestly. He’s making a scene over a sweet tribute.”
“She knew,” I said, before Levi could. My voice shook, but it came out. “Benjamin is the one name we told her we’d never use. She knew that.”
Diane’s smile didn’t fall. It shifted. She reached under the table and pulled out one more wrapped package.
“She knew,”
It was tied with silk ribbon, and she didn’t even offer it to me. She opened it herself.
She pulled out a cream blanket, thick and soft, stitched in navy.
