Looking forward

"Wolf?" Carrie asked from under her blanket on the sofa. I wrinkled my nose and she nodded, returning to her list of baby names.

"I like Fergus," she said a moment later and I glanced up to ask if she was serious. I considered it for a moment and shrugged.

I arrived safely just before noon and checked my messages, digging a pen and paper from my carry-on to scribble down a number for the relocation team. I pounced on my suitcase when it arrived, hurried out to meet Carrie and called the people back who will arrange my move.

"Should I leave my stuff at the house? Or move it all with me right away? If I leave it, I can make the house all pretty and just leave boxes in the garage."

"Houses that are furnished do supposedly sell faster," she said. "But what if you want something you packed while you're living in the hotel? Wouldn't it be easier to have it in town so you can grab it out of storage?"

"I guess," I noted. "I'm not really sure what to do."

"Barnaby?" she just asked and her husband glanced up from his magazine to offer a veto.

Who knows what will happen - I think we make the choices that seem right at the time and hope for the best. And whether it's moving furniture or tackling the lengthy list I have before I move next week or naming the baby this fetus will become, it seems a good time. Bright and hopeful and scary, but good.