In A Name.

“Honestly, child. When are you going to name your baby?” The lady queried with a pointed stare as she cradled the newborn in her decrepit hold. “Time is running out.”

An irritated sigh passed through the nose of the only other occupant on the front porch.

“We’ve talked about this, Gran.” The new mother lightly bounced her leg to busy herself while the elder regarded the infant. “We’re still deciding.”

“You’ve had nine months to come up with something, and an additional two weeks have passed. If you need help all you need is to ask.” The elder snipped.

The other woman had to bite her tongue, less some unsavory words spill forth.

“I’ve always fancied the name, Monroe. Micah is also an excellent one.” The elder hummed.

“I’m not going to give him a name with the letter M.”

A deep set frown settled on the senior’s extremely wrinkled face. It’s a wonder she hasn’t croaked yet. Surviving to see the ripe age of eighty-nine. Don’t get her wrong. She loved her grandmother but the woman could be so insufferable. 

“Don’t start with me child. It’s a family tradition to give your offspring a name with the letter M. Think about your cousins Maria and Mason. Or your aunt Margot or uncle Malcolm, your mother, me, my mother, my grandmother, and so on. Even you, Myrah!”

Myrah had to suppress the urge to wipe her palm down her face in exasperation. “You’re not telling me how to name my child, Gran.” The older woman always had to meddle in her business and dictate how she did things. Sometimes it was welcome, like when she recommended vervain to help her produce breast milk for her little one when she encountered problems lactating; or encouraging her to ingest saffron tea after giving birth.

 But now was not one of those times.

“What about Mordecai? Or Monty?” Oh god.

Myrah twisted her mouth in displeasure. “I don’t understand what your fixation is on having a long line of M’s anyway. Hell, your name wasn’t even Matilda and I thought so for years! It’s actually Cecile!” The woman huffed with a tight crossing other arms. 

“Ah, but I changed it, child. You know this. That’s the legacy I want. Besides, I find names with the letter M to roll off the tongue quite nicely.” Her sunken eyes looked at the sleeping bundle in her arms once again.

“Won’t you do this for me? An old woman’s wish for her great-grandson?” Her already shaky voice quivered even more.

No. Oh no. No. No No. She was not going to guilt-trip her. Myrah was firm in her decision. There was no changing it. 

“His father is enamored with the name Jeriah but I’m smitten with Luciano.” The brunette hummed, reminiscing of nights where she and her husband poured over countless baby name books, choosing at every name that piqued their interest.

“If only you could speak, maybe you could talk some sense into your hard-headed mother.” Matilda cooed at her great-grandson, paying Myrah no mind.

There was no getting through to this woman. Myrah shook her head.

Myrah stepped into her home a few hours later, baby in tow, and sought her husband. She found him in the living room and he jumped at the sight of his family. 

“I’m back Noah.” She greeted.

“Hey, Myrah! How did it go with your granny?” The man queried before giving her lips a kiss.

“It was was great until she started pestering me about naming him with an M,” Myrah explained.

Noah took their son from her grasp and gave the baby’s forehead a light peck. ”Hey Lil fella? Did you behave a good boy for mommy?”  

Myrah sat down on the couch and propped her feet on the footrest and Noah followed after her.

“We can always name him with an M. I don’t mind. But Jeriah is a little hard to let go.” The man pouted.

“No. We both have names we like for him, we made him, so it is our responsibility to give him an identity and I don’t want any outside forces harassing us.” Myrah rubbed her temples.

“But..it’s an old woman’s wish for her great-grandson.”

“Oh no. She got to you.” Myrah gave Noah a playful smack on his right pectoral. “Grow a spine would ya?”

“Ow!” Noah nudged Myrah with his shoulder. “Hey, your granny could be very convincing. Besides, I have a soft spot for sweet old ladies.”

“Sweet old ladies who like to meddle in people’s affairs.” Myrah placed her head on his shoulder.

“You’re getting grease on my skin, babe.” It was more of a comment than a complaint.

“I didn’t tell you to not wear a shirt.” She smiled while looking at their son.

“Do you think he looks like a Monty?” Myrah found herself asking.

“Oh god. What?” Noah guffawed at her question. “Monty? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey! It wasn’t my suggestion. Thank Gran for that.” She smirked.

The elderly woman sat on her rocking chair in the porch where she saw her grandchild walking through the gates, her great-grandson in hand. 

“I’ve been waiting for so long.” Matilda croaked while she accepted the infant into her awaiting arms. ”Did you finally name him?”

Myrah had a big grin on her face. “Matter fact, I did! After five weeks, we finally decided on a name. I think you’ll be satisfied. Well, hopefully.” The woman excitedly gave her grandmother her son’s birth certificate.

Matilda adjusted her frames and perused the text on the sheet.

“Jericho..”

“Jericho Micah Carter.” Myrah finished for her.

“It would be better if the middle and first names were switched.” Matilda started.

“Nope. It’s fine as is.” Myrah interrupted. “Noah and I decided on it and well, there you have it.”

This child.

Matilda gave a sigh and rocked her grandson who stared at her with wide eyes and two fingers occupying his mouth. The elder gave a wan smile in the infant's direction; there was nothing she could do about it now.

“You have a beautiful name, Jericho.”