« That’s the plan. »
« Good. That’s a healthy sign, » she said.
« Ryan’s being weird about Noah’s name, though. »
My sister was quiet for a second. « Weird how? »
« I don’t know. Distant. »
« Eve, if anything ever feels off, you call me. Any hour. »
« You worry too much, » I said, trying to brush her off.
« I worry the right amount, » Rachel said.
« Ryan’s being weird. »
I was still laughing about that one afternoon, two days later, when I stood at the kitchen counter rinsing a coffee mug, 38 weeks and one day pregnant.