“I can’t believe they’re going to name the baby Bojo. Bojo Griffin Spindleman.” Bella swallowed hard and looked at her friends; her face grey as her hair. “What am I supposed to do?” She was near tears.

“You’ll love the child. That’s what you’ll do,” answered Ruth in her professional nurse-in-charge voice. “Here, have some hand sanitizer,” she added, passing around a small bottle filled with thick, clear fluid. “It’s cold season you know.”

Helen stopped pouring maple syrup on her pancakes and looked up. “Is Bojo a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. I think. I don’t really trust those tests, but Bonnie and Joe seem to have faith in them. They scream if I even look at anything pink.” She reached into her purse and pulled out two beautiful pink hair ribbons, then quickly shoved them back inside again.

Seemingly oblivious to the conversation, Estelle was busy trying to decide which herbal tea to use from the large assortment Roger had placed beside her. The cast on her right arm was covered with signatures and decals. She picked up one packet labeled Mint Julep and ripped the outer envelope with her teeth.

Bella hung her head. “Bojo. My God. What will they think of next? What is wrong with kids these days? Whatever happened to names like Susan or Ann? Why do they have to go making things up, like Bojo?” she wailed.

“Shush, Bella, indoor voice, remember? Everyone is staring at you,” said Helen.

“I don’t care,” Bella screeched. “I worked in a library for twenty years and all I ever did was whisper. Now that I’m finally retired I can yell as loud as I want.” She blew her nose noisily, scrunched up the tissue and threw it on the table.

Helen shrugged and began cutting her pancakes into neat little squares. “You know, it could be worse. I heard Josie’s daughter named her twins Pilot and Skye.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Pilot is the boy and Skye is the girl. Her daughter and son-in-law travel a lot and thought it was cute.”

“Well, they could have named them Madagascar and Bermuda, I suppose,” mumbled Ruth.

Estelle brushed Bella’s used tissue onto the floor, then carefully lifted her tea cup and looked around. “Say, where is Josie anyhow?”

“Italy,” said Ruth and Ginger simultaneously.

“Really?”

“Yeah. They’re on another cruise with the Drummonds … You know, Italy, Portugal, Spain, the whole enchilada.”

“That’s a great trip,” said Helen. “We went there last year. When are they due back?”

“About two weeks, I think.” Ruth had put away her bottle of hand sanitizer and begun wiping down the salt and pepper shakers with a floral scented hand wipe.

The conversation stalled as Roger approached with coffee and tea refills. Between bites of scrambled eggs, Bella started up again. “There are some really wonderful baby naming books at the library. I was thinking that maybe I ought to drop one of them off at their house. You know, one with normal baby names. What do you all think? I mean, the baby is not due for another 3 months. Maybe if they saw some good alternatives they would change their minds.”

Ruth waved a piece of crispy bacon around as if it were a baton. “Give it up Bella! You don’t have a prayer. All you’re going to do is alienate your daughter and son-in-law. Shut your mouth, and when the baby is born and looks up at you and coos, it won’t matter if his name is Hasenpfeffer. You’ll love him.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes,” added Helen. “And believe me; I know how hard that is. I mean keeping your mouth shut. And if you think it’s hard talking to your daughter, just try talking to your daughter-in-law. Get her mad and you’ll never see your son again, or the grandkids. Could you pass the salt and pepper down here, please?”

“Ohhh.”

Estelle looked up. “How’d they come up with Bojo anyhow?” she said handing Helen a bottle of Heinz Ketchup.

“Bonnie and Joe. They decided the baby’s name should reflect their union. Yuk! That’s what I think. You know, someone ought to write a book on how to be a parent to an adult child. It’s a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. They really think they’re so much smarter than we are, and they’re not. They have no idea what they’re doing.”

Ruth shook her head from side to side. “Aw come on, be honest now, Bella. When you were 28 did your parents know anything? I mean, how many kids did you have at 28?”

“Three. With one on the way. And my folks always hated Aldon. Thought he was stuck up and the match wouldn’t work.” Bella buttered a large chunk of bagel and stuffed it into her mouth. When she started to speak a half dozen little bits of mushed bread flew like projectiles across the table. “The truth is that there are days I can kill him, but after 49 years, I’m beginning to think we just might make it.” She wiped her lips with a crumpled napkin.

Ginger started to cry.

“My goodness, what’s wrong?” asked Helen.

Ginger continued to sob, tears blurring her mascara and dripping onto her poached eggs. “You know, this coming May will be 2 years since my oldest daughter, Leah, passed away from ovarian cancer.” She wiped her eyes. Her hands were shaking. “Well, Harry, my son-in-law called last night to tell us his firm is relocating to Korea for 3 years. He thinks it would be a really good career move, and he is tempted to go with them. Jessica is 9 and Scott is only 7. If they move to Korea, I won’t see them for three years. I didn’t think I would survive losing Leah. I just can’t lose them too.” Ginger stared right into Bella’s face. “You have a new baby coming into your life, Bella. Don’t you understand what a blessing that is? Whatever his name is doesn’t matter a hoot.”

Roger brought over a large box of tissues and silently filled the water glasses. He poured Ginger a cup of her favorite tea.

“Listen, my friend. If I can live with the handle of Ginger Esmerelda Rosenberg, your new little guy can make it through with Bojo Griffin Spindleman. And that’s a fact! Now shut up about all this nonsense and finish your bagel.”

“Ginger Esmerelda Rosenberg? Good grief!” laughed Helen. “Well, it’s better than Madagascar or Bermuda, I suppose.”

All too soon it was 11:00.
The group hug in the parking lot lasted a little longer on this day. The rain stopped and sunlight speared through the clouds.

On her way home Bella began to imagine rocking the new baby in her arms. “Bojo,” she whispered, trying out the name again. “Bojo … Bojo … BoHo … BoLo … Bo Peep … Beau Bridges … Bow and Arrow … Bo–Nana …” She chuckled. “… Bohemia ….” The sun danced on her face as she steered her car onto the freeway. “Bo-livia!” She looked at the clear blue sky and softly whispered to her own heart, “Hello Bojo. You know your grandma loves you very, very much, don’t you.” Then she hiccupped.