Separate names with a comma.
He nodded, resting his head on his hands and watching her.
Francis frowned, moving towards the door cautiously.
She flushed, looking embarrassed. "I am so sorry. I don't know why I did that."
He sat down. "I love french toast."
"I'm going to see her."
She was quiet before leaning forward and kissing him deeply.
He smiled, standing at the counter. "What are you making?"
"I told her I would be there. This is almost over soon, anyways isn't it?"
She searched his face, one arm still over his shoulder.
He went down the stairs, stretching his arms.
"Derrick."
"But.. Etta?"
He smiled slightly, standing up as well.
"Derrick, if my son is being born, I'm going to be there."
She blinked. "What?"
He nodded, sitting up and stretching.
"Well, I'm going to."
"No," she replied quietly. "I'm not."
He frowned slightly, noticing the uncertainty in her voice. "I'm always hungry."
"I have to!"
