Chapter 3: A BJ By Any Other Name

“I’m starting to panic,” Auguste told Naomi. “Only a month to go and we still haven’t decided on a name for the baby.”

“Yeah, but do you have to barge in here to tell me about it?” Naomi said.

“It’s pretty much the only place you ever are these days.”

“Tell me about it. I’m thinking this kid’s going to drain me dry. Maybe we should name her Pee Pee.”

“You mean like initials? P. P.”

“No, I mean like pee.”

Auguste rasped a grunt. “Maybe Pia,” since we know she’s going to be a girl.”

“Ha!” Naomi exclaimed. “These days you never know.”

“You may have hit upon something there,” Auguste said. “Maybe initials would be the way to go. Like A.N. People would think some mix of Auguste and Naomi, but it could be anything.”

“Na, N.A. would be better.”

Auguste laughed. “For not applicable, right?”

It was Naomi’s turn to laugh. “But if we’re going to do initials, it’s got to be BJ.”

“For Blow Job? You’re kidding me, right?”

Naomi grinned. “Maybe it’ll remind the kid that if she (or he) sticks to blowjobs, she (or he) (or whatever the appropriate pronoun might be or become) ... Um. Where was I?”

“Blow Job,” Auguste reminded her.

“Right. Stick to blowjobs and you won’t get into this fix.”

“Don’t you want grandchildren?”

“Sure,” Naomi said. “About a hundred years from now. Right now I just want to be me again. Me, myself, and I. Anyway, BJ isn’t for blowjob.”

“No?”

“It’s for Ben & Jerry. Can you fix me a big bowl? Is there any of that Dirt Cake left? If not then Cherry Garcia.”

“Gottcha. I mean O.K.”

“And her name’s going to be Elaine. Unless I change my mind.”