Friday, February 22, 2013

FFF: Initials

Every Friday Kurt posts a new flash fiction piece. This week...

Word Count: 600

“Christopher David Cook,” said Fran. She lay on top of the covers, patting her round belly.

“No good,” said her husband, Eric, shivering under the covers. “His initials will be C-D-C.”

“Does that mean something?” asked Fran.

“It’s the Center for Disease Control,” said Eric. “Not a good association to make—unless we want people to think of our son as being related to the plague.”

“At least they’re about controlling disease,” said Fran.

“I’m still vetoing it,” said Eric

“Christopher Franklin,” said Fran.

“I’m not a big fan of Franklin,” said Eric.

“It’s a family name,” said Fran.

“I know but… oh, wait, we can’t do that. Then he’d be C-F-C. Our son would be responsible for destroying the ozone layer.”

“Well, we couldn’t have that,” said Fran.

“No, we couldn’t,” said Eric.

“Franklin Christopher,” said Fran.

“The FCC is the Federal Communications… something. It’s the one that does airwaves,” said Eric.

“Is that so bad?” asked Fran.

“I think I read somewhere that they’re the reason you can’t use your cell phone on an airplane,” said Eric.

“Oh, God, I’ll veto that myself,” said Fran.

“I’ll hold you to that,” said Eric.

“How about Franklin Thomas Cook?” asked Fran.

“I like it, but it sounds like a founding father,” said Eric. “And then he’d be F-T-C.”

“What’s that?” asked Fran.

“It’s the Federal Trade Commission,” said Eric.

“Well, dammit,” said Fran, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Don’t get mad at me, hon,” said Eric. “It’s not my fault—”

“Yes, it is,” said Fran. “You’re the one with the last name that starts with C. I should have married Walt Jablonsky.”

Eric laughed nervously.

“Okay,” said Fran, “how about Ethan? We always liked that. Ethan Thomas Cook?”

“E-T-C, said Eric. “Et cetera.”

“Fine,” said Fran. “You come up with something.”

“No, babe, don’t take it that way,” said Eric. “I like your ideas, we just need to make sure it’s properly vetted.”

“I bet Walt wouldn’t have made me vet baby names like this,” said Fran.

“Probably not,” said Eric. “You can’t really be picky about them when your last name is Jablonsky.”

Fran giggled.

“Keep going, we’ve got to be close,” said Eric.

“At this rate, we’ll be lucky to have a name picked out by the time this little guy is born,” said Fran, patting her belly once more.

“We’ve got three months,” said Eric.

“We’ve been at this for five already,” said Fran.

“Oh,” said Eric. “Well, some kids go for years without names, right?”

Fran giggled again. “Ethan Scott?” she asked.

“E-S-C,” said Eric.

“What’s that short for?” asked Fran.

“On most keyboards it means escape.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Fran.

“Hmmm,” said Eric. “Jesus Christ Cook. I can’t think of anything for J-C-C. That kind of works, actually, although I don’t think your parents would like it.”

“Scott Ethan?” asked Fran.

“The SEC is the Securities and Exchange Commission. They’re pretty unpopular right now.”

Fran exhaled sharply and then rolled over. “You know what?” she said. “I’ve changed my mind. We’re having a girl.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” said Eric. “What about Dominic? You always liked that.”

“What middle name?” asked Fran.

“Isaac, maybe?” said Eric. “After your dad.”

“Does D-I-C stand for anything?” asked Fran.

Eric mulled it over. “It’s only one letter away from the FDIC, but I can live with that.”

Fran smiled. “So that’s it? We’re decided.”

“It’s late,” said Eric. “Let’s sleep on it. Maybe something will occur to us in the morning.”

Edited by Carolyn "Spare Me An Adverb" Abram.

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