Page 109 of Backup Plan

She washes her hands and joins me on the couch, and I shift to hand her over.

“Oh, no, honey boy. Don’t move when the baby is asleep. You’ll learn that real fast.”

I chuckle, but I still listen and settle back into place.

“What’s her name?”

“I was trying to come up with a way to combine her mother’s name with my favorite woman on the planet, but—”

“Pizzy didn’t work?”

“Pizzy?”

“Sure. Penny and Izzy.”

“Can you imagine a baby named Pizzy?”

“No.”

I laugh a bit too loudly, and I think I startle the baby, who starts to cry.

“The nurse brought in a bottle a few minutes ago in anticipation.” I nod beside me, and Dolores picks it up as I shift the now-crying newborn from my arms.

“Here, honey,” she says, and she gently lifts the baby out of my arms. “May I feed her?”

“I would love that,” I say, and she’s an old pro with handling babies while I’m still trying to figure out the best way not to break her.

“So not Pizzy. Inny?”

“Izzy plus Penny?” I guess.

She shrugs.

“I considered it, but I was worried the kids on the playground would call her Outie, like a belly button.”

Dolores chuckles.

“Truth be told, as much as I love Penny, her name wasn’t in the running. Especially not now, not now that it’s over—” I pause as I feel myself getting a little choked up. I clear it away. “I wanted to honor the person who has saved my ass more times than I can count in such a short amount of time, and I thought about Dolorabella, but it was too long. I wanted something that started with an L, so, drumroll please…”

She looks touched, and her eyes shine. She doesn’t give me a drumroll, as if she can’t speak past the lump in her throat.

“Meet Liora Isabella Bradley.”

“Liora,” she whispers on a soft exhale. “It’s beautiful.”

I reach over and cover Dolores’s hand with mine. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“I’m right here for whatever you need, kiddo.”

She stays a couple of hours before she has to go, and I guess newborns sleep a couple hours then want to eat again. On repeat. For the rest of time. With some diaper fun in between.

Madden comes in for a visit on Friday night, armed with pizza from my favorite place, Lou Malnati’s, despite the fact that I need to be season-ready in a few weeks.

“Where’s the kid?” he asks playfully as he walks into the room where I’m trying to get comfortable on the couch. I feel weird sleeping in the bed since I’m not a patient.

“Sleeping in the nursery.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping when the baby’s sleeping?” he asks as he sets the pizza on a little end table.