"Uh, my name is Roger, but I guess you'll be calling me dad. No one else gets to call me that, not even your mum. Roger-Dodger and Rogersaurus are the best I get from her. Roggiepoo if she wants something. Anyway, you probably want to get to know me. I'm dad, I'm 32, I'm a Leo but I am a cusp baby so you could say I'm pretty special. I play drums for Queen, I'm sure you've heard of them. Your mother thinks I'm smoking hot and she's not wrong. She isn't too bad herself, actually. But enough about her, back to me. I am a drummer, guitarist, singer, and thorough lover  who enjoys cars, partying, and not having to wear pants in the house. I'm afraid of spiders, losing your mother, and storms because once I was on my yacht and this storm happened and the wind went whoooossshhhh and the thunder went bom bom bom and the boat shook but I survived, obviously."

I kept my eyes closed, just listening to everything Roger was telling our baby. At the weather sounds, I smirked and made a throaty snorty sound, accidentally revealing my awareness.

"Now that she's awake, we better flatter your mum so she doesn't slap me for not calling. She's gorgeous. I'm not saying that she's perfect, but she's as close as the human race will ever get. She will encourage you in every way possible. She will love you through everything. She will always be there for you whenever you need her. Even if you're in completely different time zones. She didn't have it cruisy as a kid. Don't you dare ever do half the stuff she did as a teenager. But I guess she turned out okay."

"You didn't turn out too bad, yourself." I added, turning onto my side to face them. In black skinny jeans, a Flash Gordon shirt and a leather jacket, Roger looked very tired. He held Guac in his arms, matching Mickey Mouse hats on their heads.

"Have you named him yet?" Roger asked, looking up at me. I melted, seeing my Roger with his first kid. First of many, so he believed.

"I have a name but I wanted you to weigh in. Henry Oliver Taylor. Henry for the German word for home ruler which is Heimirich, Oliver meaning beauty and dignity, and Taylor, which basically speaks for itself. But if you don't like it-"

"Honey, it's perfect. I'm actually surprised at that name choice. When I saw Vivienne on my way here she told me you would probably pick a Womble-related name."

I was originally thinking Henry Tobermory Taylor, but he didn't need to know that.

He stood up slowly, using one hand to drag his seat next to my bed. He sat down again, resting Guac on the bed next to me. He kept one finger in Guac's grip whilst lacing his other hand in mine.

"Chrissie got the BMW towed to the house. The mechanic said that it's fixable. It's about $5,000 in repairs."

"I'm so sorry, Roger." He kissed my forehead, and then my lips. It wasn't our usual welcome home kiss. This was sweet and sugary, like we'd been married for years.

"It's not your fault, baby. It's all going to be okay. It's all going to be perfect." He looked down and smiled, glancing back up at me.

"Henry Oliver Taylor is going to be perfect."