We’re worn out from our annual Thanksgiving football game and stuffed from Thanksgiving dinner, but we head to the bar to meet up with our friends. It’s become a tradition, too.
Danny and Lori are in town, so they join us.
I ask Lori, “Have you thought of any baby names yet?”
“A few. I kind of like Sloan or Carly for a girl. And we’ve been thinking about some meaningful names. Like, Hayden Fry was a great football coach, so Danny thought Hayden might be cool for a boy. I don’t know that much about football, so I suggested Madden.”
“I love that name!”
“I do, too, but he thought it was hilarious that the only name I knew was from an Xbox game. Of course, he idolizes Tom Osborne, the great college coach, but I don’t care for either Tom or Osborne as a first name. Danny thought Osborne Diamond sounded super awesome. I didn’t mind that until he told me he’d call the kid Ozzy. Um, no. I don’t think so.”
Phillip, who has been drinking all day and is a little tipsy, says goofily, “I know! You could name your daughter Carat. Get it? Carat Diamond.”
Katie and Lisa say at the same time, “Hope! What about Hope Diamond?”
I haven’t been partaking in the drinking today.
I know; shocker, right?
I didn’t drink earlier because I’m so competitive when it comes to the annual football game. Then, after the game, when I was stuffing myself with turkey and all sorts of other goodies, I kept drinking water. I’m hoping the water will absorb some of the hundred million calories I’ve consumed and will quickly flush them out of my body. I want to make sure my wedding dress fits!
Phillip’s doing shots with the boys, so I’m being responsible and just sipping on a martini. I wanted a raspberry martini, but Lori made me get a cosmopolitan just so she could smell it. After a few minutes of her sniffing my drink, I begged the bartender for a nonalcoholic version. Now, she’s torn between loving the feel of the martini glass in her hand and being horrified that people will think she’s drinking alcohol.
She rolls her eyes at Phillip’s suggestion of Carat Diamond and continues our conversation, “I think Damon is my favorite for a boy.”
“Damon Diamond. I like that.”
“Another Big D,” Joey says, slapping Danny on the back.
“Really, it should be Double D,” I stupidly say.
It causes all the guys to hoot and holler.
What is it about boys and boobs?
Neil yells, “Double D! Ah, yeah, baby. Gotta love those. You should definitely pick a D name for your daughter. Lori’s got big cans, so maybe your daughter will, too.”
All the guys laugh and start coming up with D names. They throw out Darcy, Daisy, Daniella, and Dani.
Danny says, “We can’t give a girl the same name as me. That would be dumb. I do think Destiny would be kinda cute though.”
Joey giggles. “Destiny Diamond. That totally sounds like a stripper name. That’d be so hot.”
“You know, I’ve kinda been freaking out over being a father, but then I read in a men’s magazine somewhere that, as long as you can keep your son off the pipe and your daughter off the pole, then you’ve done a good job.”
Lori is sitting next to me. She hasn’t moved an inch, but I swear, I just felt the earth shift. Like she’s a volcano waiting to erupt.
She gives Danny the evilest stare I’ve ever seen. Way worse than the death stare she gave me at her candle passing. And that almost killed me.
Danny is kinda drunk, and he’s having fun, goofing around. I don’t think he realizes that this is in no way funny to Lori.
She grabs his hand across the table to get his attention and says madly, “I’ve been puking daily, listening to classical music that I hate, and drinking only organic juices. I haven’t had a cup of coffee, a Diet Coke, or a beer in months. I’ve painted the nursery with non-toxic paint, so the baby won’t get cancer, and bought baby Einstein toys. And you mean to tell me that your only goal for our child is to not be a stripper or a drug addict?”
“We’re just messing around, having fun. Relax, Lori,” Danny says.
She pulls her hand away from him. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I need to do.” She says, “Excuse me,” to the table and slides out of her chair.
She and her baby bump make their way up to the bar. A few minutes later, she comes back with two shots of tequila and a pack of cigarettes.
She’s about to make a point, I think.
Danny and the boys are still enjoying the baby-name game. Danny’s laughing hysterically about another stripper name.
Neil says, “How about Dakota Diamond? She could wear a cowboy hat, boots, and a rhinestone thong.”
The guys all laugh hysterically. Phillip is wiping tears from his eyes. The only time Phillip laughs so much he cries is when he’s drunk.
I watch Lori open the pack of cigarettes. She takes one out, puts it in her mouth, and lights it.
She takes a pretend drag, slides a shot glass in front of me, and says loudly, “To my future child.”
I hold my shot glass in the air while I kick Danny under the table.
He looks at Lori in horror and grabs the shot glass away from her. “What are you doing?”
Her voice is surprisingly calm as she says, “Why should I make all these sacrifices for our child when your expectations are so low?”
“We’re just teasing. I have goals for our child. Big goals. And I’m so proud of all you’ve done. I’m sorry, baby.”
What a suck-up.
Lori seems to be appeased though. She smashes out the cigarette, moves the ashtray as far away as she can, and then announces that she has to pee.
When she’s safely in the restroom, Danny turns to me, clinks the shot glass against mine, and downs the shot. Then, he takes mine and downs it, too.
Somehow, I don’t think it will be his last of the pregnancy.
“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” he asks.
I just smile at him because I really don’t have an answer.
