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cressidagrey · 8 days ago

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What's in a Name?

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Part of the The mysterious Mrs. Piastri Series.

Summary: Oscar tends to forget to tell his family about major life moments. Or: How Nicole Piastri found out that her granddaughter was named after her.

Warnings and Notes: I have been working on this for weeks and I have finally given up on trying to make it better. So here it is, in all its glory. Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂

It was a rainy Tuesday, the kind of afternoon where Melbourne felt more like London—grey skies, misting rain, and a house quiet enough to hear the fridge hum.

Nicole sat at the kitchen table, shoulders draped in her oldest cardigan, a half-finished crossword in front of her and a cup of peppermint tea cooling untouched at her elbow. The mail was stacked neatly beside her: the usual suspects—an electricity bill, a newsletter from the council, a catalog she didn’t remember subscribing to—and one envelope that stopped her short.

Cream-coloured. Heavy paper. Sealed with wax.

Her heart caught.

She knew that handwriting. Elegant, almost old-fashioned cursive. Felicity.

Nicole reached for it carefully, fingers brushing over the embossed return address in one corner. She broke the seal with a letter opener, slow and reverent. Inside was a card—no, stationery—thick and matte, with delicate wildflowers inked around the borders in soft watercolours. Pinks and purples, sprigs of lavender, daisies tucked into corners. Hand-drawn, clearly. Felicity’s touch was unmistakable.

A birth announcement.

Months late, of course.

But Nicole had never minded. They’d all understood.

Bee had been born in July—smack in the middle of winter in Australia and summer in London and chaos and COVID-era restrictions. The beginning had been terrifying: the rushed C-section, Felicity’s haemorrhaging, Bee’s heart surgery, the NICU admission. Machines that beeped too loud. Oxygen tubes. Monitors flickering through the haze of exhaustion.

They’d prayed. Waited. Called. Texted. Watched from a distance as their son clung to hope like a lifeline.

Nicole remembered the first time she’d seen her granddaughter—through a pixelated video call at 2:43 a.m., after two sleepless nights. Oscar’s voice cracking off-camera. He’d kept repeating, “She’s so small, Mum. But she’s here.”

Nicole had cried then. Silently, so she wouldn’t worry them.

The last thing anyone expected was proper stationery.

Nicole hadn’t pushed. They’d promised to send proper announcements eventually.

Nicole had video-called. She’d cried when she saw Felicity eventually, pale and exhausted, holding a tiny baby against her chest, wires and monitors flickering. She’d prayed harder than she ever had. She knew her granddaughter had made it, had healed, had come home.

Still, the card made her heart catch.

A soft floral design, hand-drawn. Felicity’s unmistakable attention to detail.

And at the center, in black ink:

Welcome to the World, Beatrice Nicole Piastri

Nicole blinked.

Read it again.

Beatrice… Nicole.

Her name. Not just as a nod or a casual reference, but there. Written, printed, declared.

She hadn’t known.

Oscar hadn’t said. Not in any of the hospital updates. Not in any of the late-night phone calls from London when Felicity was still recovering from the C-section, when Bee was fighting her way through post-surgery oxygen dependency. Not during the photos and videos and the grainy FaceTimes where Bee was curled like a comma against his chest, breathing steadily.

Not when Felicity sent thank-you messages for the baby blanket, the muslin wraps, the tiny hand-knitted cardigan that had been Nicole’s own when she was born.

Not once had anyone told Nicole that Bee was named after her.

She pressed a hand to her mouth. A quiet gasp escaping before she could stop it.

It was such a small thing. A few letters printed in black ink.

But to her—it was everything.

Oscar had never said anything. Not a word. He probably didn’t even think of it. Probably assumed she knew.

And of course he hadn’t—he was Oscar. Her brilliant, focused son who forgot to eat on race days and got distracted by suspension schematics while tying his shoes. He’d sent updates. Photos. He’d FaceTimed with Bee curled on his chest and Felicity gently teasing him in the background.

But he’d never told her her name.

She looked back down at the card, eyes suddenly stinging.

Beatrice Nicole.

She’d never expected to be honored that way. Never needed it. She was proud of all her children, proud of the life they’d built, proud of the woman her daughter-in-law had become. She had watched Felicity grow from the shy teenager, always polite, always too quiet—into a woman of strength. One who had come through fire and come out steady, composed, fierce.

Nicole wiped at her cheek with the sleeve of her cardigan.

There was a photo tucked into the card as well—Bee at a few months old, round-cheeked, eyes bright. She was lying on a muslin cloth covered in bees, one tiny fist raised, her other hand clutching a green plush frog to her chest.

Oscar’s daughter.

Her granddaughter.

Nicole smiled softly, brushing her fingers over the card.

Then she picked up her phone, opened the family group chat, and typed.

***

Group Chat: Piastri Fam ❤️

(Members: Nicole, Chris, Oscar, Hattie, Edie and Mae)

Nicole:OSCAR JACK PIASTRI YOU NAMED HER AFTER ME?!?!?!?

Hattie: wait WHAT

Mae: Hold on hold on hold on what is happening

Edie: Named WHO after WHO

Nicole: BEE. BEATRICE NICOLE. I JUST GOT THE BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE MAIL

Hattie: EXCUSE ME???? YOU GAVE YOUR DAUGHTER MUM’S NAME AS A MIDDLE NAME AND TOLD NO ONE???

Oscar: oh, yeah we did that

Chris: ...Son. You named your child after your mother and forgot to mention it?

Mae: THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??? “oh yeah”????

Oscar: i didn’t think it was a big deal

Edie: NOT A BIG DEAL????

Hattie: YOU IMMORTALIZED MUM IN YOUR CHILD’S NAME

Mae: AND YOU’RE OUT HERE ACTING LIKE YOU JUST BOUGHT A NEW TOASTER

Chris: It’s… kind of a massive deal, Oscar. You named your daughter after your mum. That means something.

Oscar: … yeah. I guess it does.

Nicole: I’m crying. I have actual tears in my eyes. And you’re in here like, “oh, yeah” 😭

Oscar: It just felt… natural?

Nicole: I— I’m going to go lie down. With my framed announcement. And my feelings.

Edie:YOU NEVER MENTIONED IT

Hattie: YOU LITERALLY LET ME CROCHET HER NAME INTO A BLANKET THAT JUST SAID “BEE”

Oscar:It is what we call her

Edie: I’m losing my MIND

Mae: He’s too emotionally repressed to realize he just gave Mum the greatest compliment of her life and did it casually via post

Oscar: you’re all very dramatic

Chris: And you are very casually sentimental. It’s unnerving.

Nicole: I am crying in my lemon tart and also deeply offended

Oscar: …thanks?

Nicole: No thank you. For naming your little girl after me. Even if you forgot to mention it for FOUR MONTHS.

Oscar: it was hectic!! there was the NICU and the surgery and the no sleeping and—

Edie: You’re not getting out of this with logistics.

Mae: YOU had time to send aesthetic baby announcement cards with pressed flowers and wax seals but not to casually text us “btw named her after mum”????

Nicole:You’re lucky I adore you. And that Bee is already my favorite grandchild.

Oscar: she’s your only grandchild

Nicole: Exactly. And I will name-drop “Beatrice Nicole” at every social event until the day I die.

Hattie: I just can’t believe you didn’t tell us. Like? We are your siblings? We texted you every day during that month?

Oscar: i know i didn’t mean to keep it a secret it just… slipped through the cracks we were so focused on keeping her alive, you know?

Nicole: Oh, sweetheart. We do know. And I wouldn’t change a thing. But I want you to know—this means the world. You didn’t have to do it. But you did. And I will never forget it.

Oscar: …you were always there for me always even when things were messy or quiet or hard felt right to honour that not just because you’re Mum but because you’re you

Nicole: Okay. Now I’m really crying.

Mae: He’s emotionally stunted and accidentally poetic. It’s unfair.

Nicole: Thank you. For her. For the name. For the reminder that family doesn’t have to be loud to be deeply, stubbornly, painfully loving.

Edie: Are we hugging in the group chat? Are we… feeling things?

Mae: Shut up and cry with us.

Oscar: i’ll send a picture of bee in her little bear onesie as a peace offering

Nicole: Bless you. Also she looks exactly like Felicity. Thank god for that.

Hattie: Family roast unlocked. Let’s goooo.

***

The flat was quiet, in that sacred hour between baby bedtime and parental collapse. Outside, the London rain tapped against the windows with soft insistence, and inside, the only light came from the low-glow lamp by the couch and the faint blue wash of the baby monitor on the coffee table.

Oscar sat on the floor, legs stretched out under the coffee table, chin resting on his fist as he stared at his phone with the haunted look of a man who had just survived a particularly emotional family group chat.

Felicity padded out of the bedroom barefoot, hair in a messy braid, sleeves pushed up, two mugs in hand. She handed him one without a word, sitting cross-legged beside him with her own, her shoulder brushing his. The silence between them was easy. Familiar. Worn in like a favorite hoodie.

After a long minute, Oscar cleared his throat.

"Hey."

Felicity hummed in reply, sipping her tea.

"So…" He winced. "Funny thing."

Felicity glanced sideways at him, eyebrow raised.

"I might’ve…" He trailed off. Rubbed the back of his neck. "Forgotten to tell Mum that we named Bee after her."

She blinked. "What?"

"I didn’t mean to!" he said quickly. "I thought I had. Or maybe I assumed she figured it out? I don’t know. Things were... insane. There was the surgeries and the lockdown and you couldn’t walk properly and Bee was the size of a loaf of bread and wouldn’t sleep unless I sang The Beatles whole catalogue —"

"—which you only knew half the words to."

"Exactly!" he said, relieved she remembered. "It was chaos."

Felicity set down her mug. "Oscar."

"I know." He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "I’m the worst."

"You’re not the worst," she said softly, nudging his leg with her foot. "You’re just… Oscar."

He lifted his head. "She got the card today."

"Oh no."

"She cried. Like, actual tears. Into a lemon tart, apparently."

Felicity’s mouth twitched. "That’s poetic."

"And now the whole family’s acting like I revealed a state secret. Hattie’s offended on behalf of her crochet. Edie threatened to make Bee a full ‘Beatrice Nicole’ sweater as penance. Mae’s yelling about my emotional repression. Chris is quietly disappointed."

"And your mother?"

Oscar leaned back against the couch, head thudding softly against the cushions. "She’s thrilled. Emotional. Plotting social dominance via name-dropping. Said she’s going to tell everyone at the farmer’s market."

Felicity laughed. Quiet and fond. "Well. We did mean it."

“I meant to tell,” he muttered. “I swear I thought I did. Like, I could’ve sworn I said something in a voicemail or one of those late-night calls when Bee wasn’t sleeping.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “You also once thought you’d put the sterilizer on, but it turned out you boiled two bibs and a remote.”

Oscar groaned and leaned his head back against the couch, careful not to disturb Bee. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re a tired idiot,” Felicity said gently. “You’ve had a lot on your plate.”

He looked down at Bee, one tiny hand curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “I just… I wanted to name her after Mum because it felt right.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Felicity said softly. “I knew the moment you said it after we found out we were having a girl. The way you looked at Bee—like you already knew who she was.”

“She deserved a name that meant something,” Oscar said. “Not just cute syllables. Something solid. Something that would… anchor her, I guess.”

He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I just didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

Felicity laughed under her breath. “Oscar. You named your daughter after your mother. And forgot to tell her.”

“I forgot,” he groaned. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re not. You’re just very you.”

“She sent, like, twelve texts in a row. And then threatened to put the announcement in a shadow box.”

“I’m surprised it’s not already framed and hanging in her hallway.”

Oscar blinked at Bee’s face, so peaceful in sleep. “I didn’t mean it to be—like, some grand gesture.”

“I know. That’s why it mattered.”

Oscar looked down at Bee, asleep in her Moses Basket. She shifted in her sleep, little nose scrunching, one leg kicking softly.

Oscar smiled. “She’s going to be trouble.”

“She already is.”

They sat there in the soft hush of late-night domesticity, their daughter asleep between them. Oscar didn’t always have the right words at the right time. But Bee had the right name.

And maybe that was enough.

***

Text Messages: Nicole Piastri & Felicity Piastri

Felicity: Hi Nicole — I saw the group chat 😅I am really sorry, I thought Oscar would have mentioned it. I just wanted to say something privately too.

Felicity: He might have forgotten to mention it, but I thought you should know that he was the one who insisted on “Nicole” as soon as we found out we were having a girl.

Felicity:He didn’t even hesitate. He said, “If we’re lucky enough to have a daughter, she should carry a name that means something. And no one’s steadier than Mum.”

Felicity:He said it so simply, like it was obvious. Like it had always been the plan. He didn’t even blink. It was always going to be your name.

Felicity:I just wanted you to know that. He might’ve forgotten to tell you (🙃), but he meant it. Deeply. And so did I. We love you. So much.

Nicole:Oh Fliss 😭 I’m already crying again and it’s not even 9 a.m here.

Nicole: I’m just sitting here staring at this message with tissues in my lap and a cup of tea that’s gone cold. I never would’ve expected it — but it means the absolute world.

Nicole:That boy… He says so little. Always has. But somehow he still manages to break my heart wide open when I least expect it.

Felicity: Welcome to my life 😌 He forgets to mention where he put the car keys for 3 days, but then says something like, “I hope Bee knows the way you smile when you’re reading to her, because that’s what safety looks like,” and ruins me.

Felicity: Truly, though — thank you. For raising a man who loves softly, and completely. Who lets kindness be his backbone, not just something on the surface. You gave me the kind of partner I didn’t think existed.

Nicole: I hope you know how deeply we love you too. You’ve given him so much joy.

Felicity: I just didn’t want you to think Bee’s name was a last-minute decision or some afterthought. It was never that.

Felicity: It was a choice made out of love. Out of gratitude. Out of every night you answered his calls when he was a world away. Every time you stood by him when things got hard.

Nicole: Thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me be a part of her, even in just a name. It’s more than I ever expected.

Felicity:She already adores you, you know. Every time we show her your photo, she reaches for the screen.

Nicole:Stop it 😭😭 You’re going to ruin me. I’m going to frame that birth announcement. And possibly embroider “Beatrice Nicole” onto every blanket I can get my hands on. And refer to her full name as often as possible. Oscar will hate it.

Felicity: Good. He deserves it 😌

Nicole: Now go cuddle Bee for me. And tell Oscar that I’m not mad. Just... Emotionally devastated in a joyful way. And that he’s grounded for four to six business days.

Felicity: He says, and I quote: “I deserve that.” 😅 We love you, Nicole. Truly. So much.

Nicole: I love you both more than words. Now please stop making me cry before breakfast.

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