Mama had been sure the last set of twins would both be girls, so the towns of Charlotte and Elizabeth had been circled on the North Carolina map. Well, “Elizabeth” came out three minutes after Charlotte and had everyone gasping when it was quite obvious she was really a he. Poor baby boy went a week nameless until Mama decided on Raleigh. It’s kinda funny, but we’re forbidden to tease him about it. Mama said it could cause him identity issues if we did. He had big ears, and she didn’t forbid that topic, so there’s that.

Grunting, Mama reached to the side table and plucked a pen from its tiny front drawer. “These two are boys. I think they’ll even turn out to be identical. There won’t be any surprises with Nashville and Knoxville.” I wasn’t so sure. After all we got a mixed set last time when she predicted two girls.

She bit her lip while drawing careful circles around the city names, and I bit my tongue to keep from spewing a protest on those awful name choices.

Edith Foster was not only a hippie but also a homebody with a weird wanderlust that took her no farther than the library. She had a vast collection of maps and National Geographic magazines but had never stepped foot out of the state of South Carolina. And for some other weird notion, she decided to name each one of us after a city she took interest in.

Ruckus from downstairs echoed through the floorboards, reminding me I had other things to do besides chatting with Mama. But our one-on-one time was all but nonexistent and I was selfish, craving every second I could have her to myself.

Carrying twins back-to-back seemed to have taken a toll on her, but by golly, the woman loved being a mother. She adored us and was a natural at sensing what we needed. Boston needed frequent hugs and a listening ear. Phoenix needed a more stern approach, and she was quick not to baby him over his handicap nor would she let him by with his mouthy ways. I suppose she joked and teased with me more often than not, knowing I was too serious and needed loosening up. Charlotte and Raleigh were the soon-to-be-dethroned babies, a coveted place they’d had all to themselves for the past seven years, so they were spoiled rotten. I wondered how she planned on changing that, but I knew she’d figure it out. Shoot, she even babied Pa and he was a grown man.

I definitely did not inherit my mother’s mothering instincts. That whole idea interested me about as much as getting a tooth pulled or talking about my period —both of which made me nauseous. I’d much rather be out plowing a field or sitting at the dining table with Pa, studying the Farmers’ Almanac.