Falling into Place by Stephanie Greene Page A

surprise.”
    â€œMargaret, look! My new dress!” Claire leaped out from behind Mr. Mack and twirled so that her dress billowed out around her like the umbrella in a fancy drink. It wasn’t pink. It was blue, with yellow flowers.
    â€œI can’t believe it,” said Margaret. She looked at her father in amazement. “How did you talk her into it?”
    â€œWe didn’t have to. It passed the twirl test.”
    Claire stopped spinning and threw her arms around Margaret’s waist. “Emily and Sarah got one, too! And so will you, as soon as you come home, because of the baby.”
    â€œThe baby’s here?” said Margaret.
    â€œOh, Matthew, why didn’t you call?” Gran came hurrying out of the kitchen with a dishtowel in her hands. “Is everyone all right? Wendy? The baby?”
    â€œEveryone’s fine, Mom. Everyone’s great,” said Mr. Mack, kissing Gran on the cheek. “I didn’t call because Claire wouldn’t rest until she could tell Margaret herself. In person. Right, Claire?”
    They all looked at Claire.
    â€œIt’s a boy,” she said proudly.
    â€œA boy?” said Margaret.
    â€œMargaret said Wendy only has girls,” said Roy. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes.
    â€œNot anymore,” said Mr. Mack. “This time, she had a nine-pound two-ounce boy.”
    â€œI have a brother,” Margaret said. It seemed amazing. It seemed impossible. Her heart gave a tiny lurch, like growing pains.
    â€œOh, Matt, how wonderful,” said Gran. She sat down suddenly, her eyes bright. “What does he look like?”
    â€œYou mean,
who
does he look like.” Mr. Mack rested his hand on Margaret’s head. “He looks exactly the way Margaret did when she was born. Do you remember, Mom? She looked like a boxing glove in a black wig.”
    â€œThe poor little thing,” said Margaret. She felt fierce, like a mother lion. “Don’t you dare make fun of him.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?” said Roy.
    â€œHe doesn’t have one!” shouted Claire, jumping up and down.
    â€œWhy not, Matt?” Gran said.
    Her Dad turned to look at her. “Wendy and I think Margaret should be the one to name him. After all, she’s the oldest.”
    â€œMe?” said Margaret, stunned.
    It felt like the most important job she had ever been given. What did
she
know about naming a baby? She’d never had one before. And a boy? Who looked like her? She could feel Gran and her dad watching her.
    Well, for one thing, he was going to hate his hair. She knew that. And no matter how much she tried to protect him, Emily and Sarah were going to want to dress him up in doll’s clothes all the time, and Claire was going to be after him to play horses with her. . . .
    â€œTad.” She looked at her father with conviction. “His real name can be David, but we’ll call him Tad.”
    For a second she was afraid
his
eyes were bright with tears. But then he grabbed her and held her against him so tightly, she could hardly breathe. “That’s my girl,” he said into her hair. “Mom? Is that okay with you?”
    â€œIt’s wonderful,” said Gran. “Your father would be so pleased.”
    Claire started to twirl around the room again. “Now Emily has Sarah, and I have Margaret, and we all have Tad,” she sang. “Emily has Sarah, I have Margaret, and we all have Tad.”
    â€œAnd Roy, you can have all of us, anytime you want,” said Mr. Mack.
    â€œTad sure is going to need another boy around,” said Roy.
    â€œI’d better tell Wendy so she can stop calling him Baby Mack,” said Mr. Mack.
    â€œLet me,” said Margaret. “I want to be the one.”
    â€œMatthew, you come and open the champagne,” said Gran. She held out her hand. “And Claire, you and Roy can help me make the Shirley