Beth heard a chuckle as Nick’s father joined the group. He hugged and congratulated them both. She was relieved when Nick’s mother gave her a bright smile of encouragement before turning back to her son. “Nicky, I think you two need to bake this out. Go in the kitchen and suit up. You know that’s where we solve our problems and make our decisions.” Then, smothering a laugh behind her hand, she said, “Your dad and I will be there in a minute.”
Beth let Nick pull her through the foyer, toward the kitchen. She couldn’t understand why Nick’s mother and father seemed so amused by their argument over the name. She was relieved though that Nick’s mother no longer seemed offended by her desire not to name the baby Herman. She let Nick tie an apron on her and smiled when he also put one on himself. The man could even make baking look sexy. Down, girl. You are already banned from your sister’s countertops; don’t repeat that mistake with your future in-laws. Beth smiled and vowed to control herself, but she stood firm on two things: she was not naming their baby Herman and she was going to attack Nick Merimon as soon as they got home.
John Merimon looked at his wife as she dissolved in a fit of laughter. “Why does Beth think that Nick wants to name their baby Herman?”
“Oh, honey,” Vicky said, laughing, “you missed the best part. Nicky wants to name the baby after my father, Herman Winston.”
John looked even more confused as he said, “But your father’s name was Henry, not Herman.”
“I know, I know,” she gasped. “Remember how Dad was always picking on the kids and calling himself different names and saying he was from different places? Well, apparently our son bought in to it. He thinks Dad’s name was Herman and he’s determined to convince Beth to name their son after him.”
John started laughing too after finally getting the joke. “He was pretty young when your dad died so I guess it never came up after that.” Pulling his wife into his arms, he whispered in her ear, “So are you planning to tell them what your dad’s name really was?”
Vicky leaned back in her husband’s arms, with her eyes dancing in mischief. “Well, of course. Just as soon as they have those cakes finished. I’m a little hungry, how about you?”
John laughed as he squeezed her tight. “What difference will an hour make? I hope one of them is making lemon pound cake.”