You and Me, Always.

Manrara

Name(s) of (If Any) Children:

Janette muttered, flicking the pages of the thirty-four page document that had arrived through her letterbox that morning in a rather official looking envelope. Knowing exactly what it was the moment she picked it off the doormat, she sighed - a sigh of 'not again.' However, this time would be the last she would ever have to see of this document. It was the divorce papers.

Picking up her pen, she began to write under the subheading 'Name(s) of (If Any) Children:'

Child One: Giana Cecilija

She paused. When they had had the twins, the had agreed it would be easier o give them just one surname - Aljaz's. Now, she scorned as she filled in the space beside her first daughter's full name -

Giana Cecilija Skorjanec

She then went onto the line underneath to fill in Eva's name.

Child Two: Evalina Joanne Skorjanec

She had become so used to simply writing Ana and Eva that seeing their full names on paper was a strange experience. She remembered back to when the names had come about.

*Flashback*

"So, what about girl names?" Aljaz questioned. Janette was laying on the couch, stroking her bump, Aljaz sitting with her head in his lap. "I was thinking maybe half Cuban half Slovenian, I mean, for both our heritages?" Janette said, smiling up at Aljaz. "Great idea. I quite like the name Anna. How about you?" Janette nodded. "But just one thing," She added, "Anna with only one 'N'. Like, Ana. That is the Cuban spelling." Aljaz smiled, before querying "Isn't it a little bit short? How about we make it longer and then shorten it to just Ana, and add a middle name too?" "Sounds good. How about 'Giana'? As in, Gee-Ahna? Then shorten it to Ana, but pronounced Ahna?" Janette suggested. Aljaz nodded, and now for a Slovenian middle name. What about Cecilia?" He asked. "Oh, that is beautiful. But let's put a 'J' in there, seeing as we both have a 'J.' " "Giana Cecilija. Perfect." Aljaz smiled, the name feeling good on his tongue. "It has a nice ring to it." Janette laughed as Aljaz said it over and over again. "Now what if we have twins? We'd need two names!" Janette giggled. "I know! How about Eva for the first name - that way both girls will have three letters when we shorten it." Aljaz suggested. "Shorten it from what?" Janette asked, "From Evalina maybe?" He answered. "Yes. Evalina - very Cuban. Now for middle names." Janette replied. They sat deep in thought, mulling over all possible names, until Janette broke the silence. "Joanne."

Aljaz looked at her, "Why Joanne, sweetie?" He asked, stroking her forehead. "I want to feel like part of Jo lives on. And what better way to do it than through a possible child of ours? Plus, it has a 'J.' " Janette's eyes glassed over, and Aljaz stroked away a stray tear that was rolling down her cheek. "Evalina Joanne. I love it." He smiled, gazing into Janette's eyes.

***

Janette shook her head and snapped out of it. She hadn't noticed the tears now making their way down her face and onto the oak table she was sitting at. She didn't know whether it was the thought of Jo that she was crying at, or if it was the other thing. The Aljaz thing.

Wiping away her tears fiercely, she got on with the job at hand, brushing away any feelings or sadness. It was over, she kept telling herself. Over. There was no going back.

She came to the end of the neatly stapled pile of paper, embellishing the page with a signature.

She began,

Janette

And then paused. She couldn't keep using her married name. She couldn't keep using her marital signature either. Guiding the pen to form the letter 'M' for the first time, she gingerly printed her maiden name onto the document.

Janette Manrara

Replacing the pen on the table, she examined her name, staring at her from the page in fresh black ink. She remembered the days when it had been 'Janette Skorjanec', a thought which brought fresh tears to her eyes. "No." She told herself firmly, "No tears. Pull yourself together Manrara." The word felt new in her mouth, strange, unwelcoming, even though it had been hers to begin with. She picked up the papers and shoved them into the envelope, sealing it without second thought. "Enough of that." She told herself, scooping up her handbag from her bed and pulling on her shoes. She glanced at herself in the mirror, using a baby wipe to clean up the smudged mascara.

Picking up the envelope containing the documents, she headed to the door and out of the apartment, preparing to hand them in to the lawyer, for the final time.