The Photographer - Mary Carter (best romance ebooks .txt) 📗

Amelia moved to the opposite sofa, next to Lucia, and she took the girl’s hand in her own. “Thank you for coming to our house tonight. It means the world to me. And I know that Fritz and Natalie feel the same way.” Fritz checked his watch. Natalie glued her eyes to the floor and chewed her nails.

The meeting was coming to a close. I needed for Amelia and Fritz to view Lucia’s state of mind accurately, and I only had a few minutes left in which to shine a light on the cracks in their understanding of her.

“What is the baby’s name?” I asked.

“Nina,” Lucia said.

Perhaps my question was ill timed, but I knew I wouldn’t have another chance.

“Who gets to name the baby?” Natalie was suddenly reengaged.

“The baby’s parents name the baby.” Amelia spoke with an edge in her voice.

“Who counts as the baby’s parents?” Natalie asked.

A silence fell over the room. I could feel Amelia’s anger emanating like a hot stove.

“That’s an odd question, Natalie.” Amelia made an effort to sound lighthearted. “Because Lucia is the child’s birth mother. But someone will adopt the baby and that person or those people will be the baby’s adoptive parents.”

“So who names the baby?” Natalie asked again, her voice and face now animated.

There was a brief silence before Fritz interjected. “Honey, the adoptive parents usually name the baby. The baby takes their last name, and they choose a first name for the baby.”

Natalie had released her limbs from their constricted position and seemed to be regaining control of her voice and her body. She addressed Lucia directly. “So why did you choose a name already?”

Lucia paused. “The baby’s inside me.” She placed her hand on her middle. “Right now I’m the child’s mother. And I need to talk to my baby. So I call her Nina.”

“Well, won’t that be confusing for her?” Natalie asked everyone. “Now she hears Lucia calling her Nina, but then later she has a different name. I don’t think that’s fair to the baby. If her name is Nina now, it should stay Nina. It’s a nice name anyway.”

“Wow,” Amelia said. “I didn’t realize what time it was. It’s almost ten. Lucia, you need to get some rest.”

“Yeah.” Fritz checked his watch again.

“Let’s get you a car home.” Amelia picked up her iPad from the coffee table to call a car.

Amelia and Lucia both stood. Amelia planted a kiss on Lucia’s forehead. It was almost a religious gesture, very unlike Amelia. “I want you to take care of yourself. Promise me you will,” she said.

Lucia nodded self-consciously.

“Bye, Lucia.” Fritz gave Lucia an awkward thumbs-up and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Amelia helped to bundle Lucia into her red coat. Then she slipped on her sneakers, which were next to the front door, and walked Lucia outside to the car. I stood in the doorway with my hand on Natalie’s shoulder and watched the interaction between the two women on the sidewalk. Amelia, who had neglected to wear a coat herself, must have been freezing cold with her bare legs and sneakers. She put her hand to Lucia’s cheek. Lucia, with her high ponytail and round face, looked like a little girl compared to Amelia. Once Lucia climbed into the car, Amelia blew her a kiss through the window, then clasped her hands to her heart. As the car pulled away, Amelia waved both hands in the air as if she were saying goodbye to her daughter. And I suppose, in her mind, she was.

I opened the hall closet and found my coat. It was next to Amelia’s shiny purple Moncler. I’d tried on the exact same one at a store recently. One day I planned to ask Amelia if I could borrow her coat, but today was probably not the best day for that.

I didn’t want to leave, but I also didn’t want to face a moment when the Straubs wished I wasn’t there.

Amelia walked back up the front path, shivering from the cold. I kissed Natalie on the cheek.

“Delta.” Amelia stood in the doorway. “Why did you ask the baby’s name?”

The hostility in her voice gave me a sinking sensation.

She closed the door behind her. “The baby doesn’t have a name.” Amelia’s words came at a fast clip. “In the Jewish religion, you never name a baby before it’s born. Neither do you buy clothes or a crib for a baby, or you might draw the attention of the ‘evil eye.’”

“I’m sorry … I was curious,” I said, “because I overheard her talking to the baby when I walked her to the bathroom. The baby is probably better off with a birth mother who is invested in the child’s well-being. No?”

“No. Yes. No.” Amelia kicked her sneakers off by the coat closet. I followed her down the hallway toward the kitchen, where Fritz was sitting on one of the counter stools, drinking another beer and eating a large bag of chips. She leaned her torso all the way forward onto the Calacatta marble of the island, her arms crossed to create a pillow for her head. After a minute of silence, she stood up and faced me again. “Lucia has decided that she is not the baby’s mother. That’s her decision. Whether she chooses us or another family, she has no right to name the baby. She has no rights at all regarding this baby.” Amelia stood uncomfortable in her body, almost as if it belonged to someone else.

Next to the open refrigerator, Natalie held a container of milk in her hands. Inside the refrigerator, at least ten bottles of champagne, lying sideways, covered one of the shelves. Perhaps they’d had a party recently or were going to have a party. One I hadn’t been invited to.

“Of course,” I said, “her rights will be terminated as a birth parent. After the baby is born.”

Amelia’s hands involuntarily flicked in the direction of the floor, like she was shaking water off them.

“Amelia,” I continued, “it’s just