My name was not always Mallory Layne.
I was actually called Layne Mallory when I was born.
I was Layne. My brother was Blaine. Blaine and Layne. It rhymes, you see?
This seemed like a cruel joke to me as a very young girl. Someone would call down the (seemingly huge) house “….ne!!!” and I would come running, only to hear,
“Not you.” Off I would scamper, miles back to where I had come from. Not me.
When I was finally old enough to go to pre-school the teacher called role the first day. When she came to “Layne” nobody answered.
“What’s your name, Little Girl?” she asked me when I was the only child unaccounted for. “Mallory,” I replied. I never looked back. I have been Mallory Layne ever since.
It had seemed a cruel joke: Blaine and Layne. What was next in my mother’s ever-growing belly? Wayne?
My mom’s best friend had named her first two children Jack and Jill. Another close friend named her daughter Candy Carmel. What were they drinking?
So that is how I came to be named Mallory Layne.
One more thing about my name… the girl on “Family Ties” was actually named after me (not her ditzy personality of course, just the name). When I fell head over heels in love in high school, my boyfriend’s older brother’s best friend (got that straight???) went on to write “Family Ties” and picked my name up because he liked it. And, as a result of that, my name does not always draw confused stares any more the way it used to. “Maralie”? people would ask for clarification? “Valerie?”, “Marjorie?”
“No, Mallory,” I could now say, “like on “Family Ties”.” Aha.