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At being referred to as an aunt, B.J. swung around and paused, coming face to face with a bright-eyed little boy who was staring up at her from his mother’s arms. He looked so calm and serious until she made eye contact. Then he broke into a smile and waved both arms in excited baby-greeting.
Charmed by the little critter, B.J. grinned back and took a step toward mother and son. Unable to help herself, she reached out, and the boy immediately did the same, latching his entire fist around her index finger.
Something hard and inherent moved inside her. Good lord. She was supposed to raise one of these things? It was as exciting as it was scary.
“Grady said he had a lot of hair,” she murmured in awe. “But he didn’t mention the curls.”
Jo Ellen lifted her face, stunned. “Grady talked to you about Tanner?”
Shrugging briefly, B.J. glanced up. “He only mentioned the hair,” she said. When the other woman looked completely bowled over, she frowned, confused, and dropped the infant’s fingers. “Why?”
“I thought. . .” Jo Ellen shook her head and wiped a single tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. It’s. . .I’ve never seen him hold Tanner. He’ll barely even look at him.”
Not sure what to say, B.J. fumbled for a moment before she offered, “Well, I’m sure it’s hard for him after. . .you know, after what happened.” Wondering if he’d be able to hold his own child once it was born, she sat her palm over her stomach and swallowed hard.
Jo Ellen must’ve sensed her worry. Forcing a smile, she thrust her son forward. “Do you want to hold him?”
B.J. immediately backed away. “What? Oh. No. No, I don’t think. . . No thanks,” she said. “I don’t want to break him or anything.”
Jo Ellen’s smile faltered. “B.J.,” she said, her voice going stern with disapproval. “You need to get used to this before yours is born. You don’t want to be scared of holding your own child, do you?”
“Uh. . .” Was this a trick question? Of course she didn’t want to be scared of her own kid, but. . .damn, did she have to start practicing now? She had nine months to get it down.
“Here,” Jo Ellen said, taking matters into her own hands. “Sit in the rocker, and I’ll slip him into your arms.”
Wanting to refuse but not sure how, B.J. found herself shuffling reluctantly toward the rocking chair.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.
Jo Ellen rolled her eyes. “Trust me. You’ll be fine. The main thing to worry about is supporting his head. Other than that, just don’t drop him, and you’re home free.
“Now,” she added once B.J. had eased into the chair, “cradle your arms like you’re holding an imaginary baby.”
B.J. did so, feeling like an absolute moron.
“Perfect,” Jo Ellen congratulated with a smile. She leaned down to settle the child in B.J.’s arms and added, “Just make yourself comfortable, and he’ll be comfortable too.”
Yeah right, B.J. wanted to mutter. She felt real comfortable.
“You got his head supported?” she asked anxiously as the sweet-smelling little body was laid in her grasp.
“Yes, he’s fine,” Jo Ellen whispered, letting go and taking a step back.
It took B.J. a good five seconds to look down. When she finally lowered her face, Tanner Gerhardt looked back up at her with a pair of wide, curious eyes. Their gazes met, and he once again broke into a grin.
“Oh,” she whispered, falling completely in love. “Oh, wow.”
Jo Ellen moved to stand beside them and lean over her shoulder to make eyes at her son as well. “I know,” she said. “It’s even more amazing when it’s your own.”
B.J. unconsciously started to rock slowly back and forth.
“I’m not sure why he woke up,” Jo Ellen murmured. “But he could probably nap for another half hour if you want to put him back to sleep.”
“Okay. How do I do that?” B.J. asked, pumped and eager for her next baby lesson.
“Well, I have some sedatives, or we could just bonk him over the head with a hammer. Take your pick.”
B.J. whipped her head up in time to catch Jo Ellen rolling her eyes. “Just keep rocking him,” she said. “He’ll probably drop off in a few minutes.”
