In the night of a severe storm in October 1987, Cora sat awake with her newborn son, unsettled by the impending registration of his name and the pressure to call him Gordon after his father and the men in his family. She recoiled at the sound and feel of the name and worried that names shape people’s destinies, recalling examples and a recent exchange with her husband about coincidental surnames in medicine. When a crash outside drew Gordon downstairs, he returned to say it was only the watering can and pressed Cora to come back to bed; she stayed with the baby, measuring time by the storm.

By morning, Gordon phoned his practice about the unanticipated storm damage and staffing problems. Cora made breakfast one-handed while soothing the baby and helped Maia listen to school closure announcements; Maia’s school was closed. Before leaving, Gordon reminded Cora that his parents were visiting Sunday and instructed her to register the baby that day, reiterating warnings about avoiding the common.

Cora and Maia walked the pram through a neighborhood altered by the storm: leaning trees, fallen fences, and scattered debris. At the common, Maia crawled beneath an uprooted oak’s exposed roots before dusting off, and at a crossing she asked why she did not share Cora’s name if her brother would have their father’s. Cora told Maia that “Maia” meant “mother,” a private bond between them, which delighted Maia, who then asked why the baby could not have a name meaning “father.”

Cora admitted she liked “Julian,” meaning “sky father,” and remembered Gordon shutting down that possibility by insisting the boy was already named Gordon. Maia endorsed Julian and, when asked her own choice, suggested “Bear” for its blend of softness, kindness, bravery, and strength. Cora briefly envisioned her son embodying those qualities, feeling how ill-suited “Gordon” seemed to the baby’s joyful, open presence.

As they passed cleanup crews and acquaintances from ballet, Maia asked why the same-name tradition mattered to Gordon. Cora withheld her harsher judgments about Gordon and his father, instead telling Maia that tradition mattered to some people. Maia responded that having one’s own name also mattered and even Gordon might have wanted his own. Cora praised Maia’s insight and held her close.

Walking on, Cora questioned whether perpetuating the tradition truly served Gordon or their son, wondering if breaking it might free both from living in the shadow of domineering predecessors. She also reconsidered the revelation about Maia’s name, fearing it might burden her daughter with an expectation to follow Cora’s path. The chapter ended with Cora’s unresolved conflict: register the baby as Gordon to keep peace, or choose a different name to protect her children’s autonomy.