Everyone burst into clapping and screaming and making as much noise as possible, except for Jason, Mr. Arthur's youngest son, who just sat in disbelief. His wife, Rosemary, was Abby's favorite aunt, and my favorite "aunt" too, because her hair was just like mine - long, straight and as black as jet. But that evening she must have decided she wanted it different, for it was curled into millions of ringlets shaping her face, brushing against her husband's shoulders, who was still unbelieving. Their identical twin daughters, Carrie and Lorrie, both 8 year old, were holding hands and dancing and singing happy birthday... I remember thinking at least they're happy.
Then I stared at Abby, who was wearing her favorite dress, thinking she wouldn't be able to be with me all day if she had a little sister or brother. But why didn't she didn't look surprised? Maybe she knew it all along. I felt a little betrayed since we were the bestest of friends and if I were in her place, I would have told her. But I don't really hold grudges, so I smiled at her and whispered into her right ear "Do you prefer a sister or a brother?", to which she replied loudly "Both." and giggled. I wasn't used to hear Abby talking in such a high pitch, for she was a very quiet girl (quite my opposite in that matter, too), but I couldn't blame her: there was still too much clatter.
Mrs. Elisabeth Moree, or how she insisted me to call her, Beth, was sharing a bottle of wine with everyone there - especially with Mr. Jerry, who kept telling his daughter, Rachel, to stop drinking. She would always remark, gladly, "Dad, come on, I'm a practically a grown-up". Her coppery hair was darker than the rest of the family's. Beth always had a bottle of wine at the ready, so obviously, Mrs. Maud, he only sister asked her were she'd gotten such wonderful beverage this time. I didn't hear them, but I could read their lips.
Then I looked at Abby, who was telling me something I couldn't understand, and shortly after, we were discussing names like Matilda, Michael, Beatrice and David, but disagreeing on them all. It wasn't our choice anyway... Mrs. Maud heard a bit of our conversation and said (to everyone) "Do you have any name ideas?"
She shouldn't have said that. People were already excited, but the thought of helping in the decision of choosing a baby's name made them overly enthusiastic. "Abigail Junior" Mr. Jerry said, and started laughing really hard, like the rest of the family. I didn't understand what was so funny about it, but now I recall he was drunk. They all were. His wife, Naomi, made a disapproving face, but I didn't think she was serious. I didn't know her well, because she never went to Preston's house. She was a well-known photographer and the owner of the busiest agenda of America - at least that's what she would say to excuse herself. But the real reason she never visited our neighborhood, I believe, is the fact that she didn't get along with Mrs. Maud. They were really similar in appearance, both had dark brown hair and light brown eyes, small noses and thin lips, but Abby's mother was prettier, and Mrs. Naomi knew it. No, I didn't think that was enough reason to hate someone, but I never really cared.
At one point of the dinner, everyone left to the kitchen to drink some strong coffee. Me and Abby went to her purple-and-green bedroom for a while. When we got back to the living room, Mrs. Maud's nose was bleeding and she was having a panic attack. "Someone call the 911!" Mr. Jason said, holding her trembling sister-in-law. "Dear, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth" Mrs Grace pleaded, in a soothing voice, while the rest of the family was running around trying to find a phone, a glass of water, a napkin, a chair, something, anything. Abby held my hand, mumbled something and I don't remember what happened next.
At the end of the evening, I was already back in my bedroom, lying on the softest of beds, without even dreaming of the impact this day would have upon all of us.
