❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
“I’m not calling you old. I’m calling ‘Theodora’ old.” He clarified. “It’s a cute granny name. Let’s not name our child Theodora…or Ted.”
“So we’ve got our names down?” He grinned. He’d heard so much about how difficult it was for a couple to settle on a name for their baby… And yet, it had seemed like the easiest conversation he’d ever had with Teddy.
“Allison Hunt…” Teddy said
quietly, beaming. A lifetime of moments under that name flashed before her
eyes; tiny
bare feet in a summer rain, fiery curls and an angel’s face. It was as though she knew her unborn child, and Teddy couldn’t even begin to fathom how much she already loved her. “It’s beautiful.”
But just then, a sobering shadow passed over her. Of course, her fears never did stay away. Voice soft with doubt, she asked: “Owen? Do you think I’ll make a good mom?”
