Page 155 of Mistaken Impression

“I’m doing this for us.” He moved closer, letting go of my hand and pulling me into his arms.

“Because of the baby?”

“No. Because I love you. I need to be with you.”

I needed him to be with me, too… and I kissed him. Deeply.

Since then, he’s been a lot happier just writing. His first book is due out next month, and I have to admit, I’m almost as excited about that as I am about the impending birth of our baby.

I sit back in my chair, glancing across at him, and try to get comfortable. He seems oblivious of the heat, his head bent, his fingers flying across the keyboard, and I can’t help smiling as I rub my hand across the bump. It’s enormous now, and it’s not just ‘the bump’ anymore. It has a name.

We decided on that the day after Mac came back.

As he’d rightly pointed out, he had no clothes, so the next morning, we drove into the city… him in his rental car and me in my Mercedes. He returned the Toyota to the rental company, and I drove him on to his friend’s apartment, where he collected his things. Calvin seemed surprised to see us, and offered us coffee, which we both declined for obvious reasons. He and Mac discussed his opening night, which he said hadn’t gone as badly as he’d expected, and then we went into Mac’s room and I watched him pack his things.

Afterwards, we said goodbye to Calvin. Mac promised to stay in touch with him, and I drove us back to Newport. It all felt new and exciting, and I think we were both a little nervous. We might have found each other again, but we were still edgy… finding our way. We needed to make conversation, and it was Mac who got us started.

“Have you chosen a name for the baby?” he asked. I could hear the worry in his voice, and although I was negotiatingtraffic and couldn’t look at him, I could tell he was fearful that he’d missed out on something else.

“No.”

“You’re not just saying that, so I’ll feel better?”

“No, Mac. I haven’t been able to think of anything.”

He fell silent for a moment or two. “I’m guessing you don’t want to name him after your father?”

“Hell, no.”

He chuckled. “What about other male relatives… or friends?”

“I’m not naming my son after my brothers, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Aside from the fact that I’d have to choose one and offend the other, they’d never let me forget it.”

“I wasn’t thinking of your brothers. I meant other relatives. Don’t you have any uncles?”

“No. Both of my parents were only children. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have any family names we could consider? I mean… what was your dad called?”

He paused and then said. “Blake.”

I glanced over at him, although he was looking straight ahead and I couldn’t read his face. “You shared the same name?”

“Yes. It’s one of the reasons I prefer to be called Mac.”

“But you and your father had a good relationship, didn’t you?”

“We had a great relationship, but both of us having the same name was bloody confusing.”

I laughed, and he joined in, which eased some of the tension. “I remember you saying you don’t have any uncles, but is there anyone else?”

“I have a godfather,” he said.

“Oh?” I vaguely remembered him saying something about leaving him behind when he came over here.

“Yeah. How do you feel about Henry? As a name, I mean.”

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