style="font-size:15px;"> He wanted to see his son at her breast again, to watch her feed him. Could she do that after she’d taken the pain killer?
“He’ll let you know,” she whispered.
He stood by the side of the bed and watched her, wishing there was more he could do. It twisted up his gut to see her in pain. Using the cloth on her forehead, he wiped at the tears on her face, then smoothed the cloth back in place.
“Okay. I’ll be back to check on you.” He glanced at his watch, flipped the edge of the comforter over her and left, hoping the prescription worked fast.
Joe headed downstairs, intent on finally getting acquainted with his son. The words still blew him away. His son. He wondered if he would ever get used to saying them, feeling the little burst of pride.
Michael still slept peacefully in the stroller by the front door. Joe unfastened the belt securing him and lifted his warm, relaxed body into his arms. The baby startled, opened his eyes, then quickly settled back to sleep.
He’d held his nieces and nephews when they were this small, but they had never felt so precious in his arms.
Joe carried the baby into the living room and settled on the couch. He laid the baby on his lap, Michael’s head at Joe’s knees.
Joe unzipped the bulky fuzzy suit and peeled it off the sleeping child much the way he had just undressed Nikki, gently, so as not to disturb his slumber. He tossed the garment on the couch beside him and looked at his son, dressed in a tiny shirt and a diaper. His small arms hung limply at his sides, and his legs were drawn up.
With one finger that looked rough and brown against the baby’s fair, smooth skin, Joe hooked a tiny foot and marveled at the perfect toes and tiny toenails.
He didn’t know exactly how old the child was. He didn’t know his own son’s birth date. He tamped down a spurt of anger. Missing out on Michael’s first months of life riled him. What right did Nikki think she had to keep the information about the baby to herself?
Did she think he wouldn’t believe her? They had both used birth control, but one look at this baby had told him all he needed to know. No DNA test was needed to identify Michael as a Galtero.
A Galtero. Part of him. Emotions welled up as he scooped the baby up against his chest and Michael nestled in against Joe’s heart.
The baby was his.
Galtero looks ran strong in the family. Auntie Rosie had baby pictures of Joe, his siblings and cousins. This baby looked like every other child on Auntie Rosie’s mantel.
How much had he already missed of his son’s life?
Michael stirred and Joe lowered the baby back to his lap. The baby opened his eyes. He blinked and stared at Joe, seeming to study his face.
Joe smiled at the solemn little features and his son rewarded him with a toothless grin, then a frothing of spit bubbles and a wild waving of his little fists.
“Well, aren’t you talented?”
Michael stilled at the sound of Joe’s voice and then chortled a reply.
Joe discovered what love at first sight felt like. A warmth of feelings spread and grew in his chest.
“Michael, I’m going to make a promise to you right now.”
Michael stopped waving his little hands.
“You have my vow that no matter what happens between your mother and I, I will always be there for you.”
Joe scooped his son up, cradling his tiny head in his palms, and kissed his forehead. Michael made a grab for Joe’s ear.
The touch of those small fingers went straight to Joe’s heart.
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