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Callum claims the pile of straps and joins me, turning it one way, then the other. ‘I think I’ve got it.’ He holds it up and gestures for me to give him an arm, so I shift Lola across my chest. ‘There,’ he says once I’ve fed my arm through the hole. ‘Other,’ he orders, prompting me to swap Lola to my other side.
Her little hand catapults towards my cheek and grabs on, yanking at my beard. ‘Ouch!’
‘You need to shave that mess off,’ Callum grunts.
‘Izzy won’t let me.’
‘Pussy,’ he grumbles, and I smile, my eyes clenching shut as Lola continues to abuse my face. Giving Callum my other arm, I feel him pulling at the straps on my back, muttering under his breath. ‘Did you buy an XXXL?’
‘One size fits all,’ I toss over my shoulder.
‘Except Theo Kane.’
‘Fu—’ I just suck back my intended curse. ‘Shut up. Is it secure?’
Callum yanks at the straps, jerking me back a little. ‘Safe as houses.’ He rounds me and puts his arms out for me to pass him Lola. ‘Come see Uncle Callum,’ he coos, losing everything masculine about him. I shouldn’t pass comment. Since Izzy bulldozed into my life, my masculinity has diminished a little every day. Then Lola arrived and any testosterone that was remaining disintegrated at the mere sight of her.
‘You sound like a girl,’ I say for the sake of it as I pass her over, ignoring his high eyebrows. ‘Be careful with her.’
‘Fuck off.’ It’s a lame attempt to win some manliness back. He lifts Lola and blows a raspberry on her romper-covered belly, and she chuckles. I scowl, taking my palms to her ears and covering them, glaring at Callum. ‘Sorry.’ He shrugs and returns his attention to my laughing daughter, while I look down to the contraption that’s now strapped to my chest. I pull out a pad of material, concluding it’s where Lola should slot in. She’s suddenly dangling before me, Callum holding her out.
‘In here?’ I point to the most obvious place and Callum nods, bringing Lola forward and aiming her legs for the holes. ‘No, she faces outward,’ I tell him. ‘So she can see around.’
Callum turns her in his arms with a roll of his eyes and starts again. I take her tiny ankles and help guide them down until she’s slotted into position. Then she begins to shout again, clearly losing her patience with the two oafs scratching their heads over a simple baby carrier.
‘Okay, princess,’ I soothe, jiggling her a little, ensuring she’s safe while Callum finds two Velcro straps and fixes them in place. ‘Comfy?’ I ask her, dropping my lips to the back of her head and inhaling. ‘Damn, I’ll never get enough of that smell.’ It’s like a potent injection of life into me each time I take a hit. Lifting my head, I find Callum grinning at me. ‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He reaches for Lola’s head and strokes over her fine covering of soft dark hair. ‘She’s growing by the day.’
I look down proudly, feeling her comforting weight on my chest. ‘She has her daddy’s appetite.’
‘I just hope she doesn’t inherit her daddy’s build.’
I toss him a dirty look. ‘She’s Izzy through and through.’ I’m smiling again when Lola starts kicking her little legs against me, each hit enhancing the feel of contentment residing deep inside me. I had nothing to fear where touching is concerned. Not with my daughter. She pulls and grabs at me and it doesn’t faze me in the slightest. It feels right, somehow. Natural.
From the moment she arrived, things changed. She was like an instant cure. A miracle. She’s my little miracle. My handicap vanished like it was never there, and the weight that disappeared from my shoulders with it was almost too overpowering to bear. People can touch me, and for the first time since that awful day when I turned on my father, I don’t react. Not even when I’m not expecting it. My brain is always switched on, and Lola is always at the forefront of it. My only handicap now is my crippling love for her.
With a smile of wonder, I drop one more kiss on to the back of her head and she shouts, thrashing again, reminding me that she’s hungry.
A hand lands on my upper arm, and I look up to find Callum regarding me with a tiny smile on his face. He knows what I’m thinking. He appreciates the wonder that has me taking stock most days. After I’ve returned his smile, he drops his hold and clears his throat, locating his lost testosterone. ‘Come on, you giant pussy.’ He turns and strides to the door, yanking it open and disappearing through it. I clear my throat, too, striding after him . . . with Lola strapped to my chest.
