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As much as I don’t want to give up Meadow, I hand her over. Kourtney isn’t particularly comfortable holding the baby. After a little adjustment, she positions her arms right and then returns to Hobo.
“No,” he says immediately.
“She looks like Xenia.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Am I dirty?” Kourtney whispers, choking down a sob. “Am I too filthy for your baby girl?”
Hobo’s hard expression cracks. “She’s perfect right now. I’m going to muck her up.”
“No, your hands are as clean as mine. You should hold her.”
Hobo slips past her, ending up in the corner when she blocks his exit. I want so badly to insist Kourtney back off. Hobo will find his way in his own time.
Yet, I know Kourtney well enough now to understand how my words will only force her hand. She’ll never back down if I get involved, so I keep my mouth shut.
Hobo’s pained gaze flashes to me. Smiling softly, I try to lure him out of his dark thoughts. Instead, he lowers his head and sobs.
“I can’t,” he insists while his sister positions Meadow in his arms.
Hobo is forced to take the baby or risk her falling. Even when she’s cradled in his arms, he won’t look at her. Rather than be tempted, Hobo even closes his eyes tight.
Kourtney wraps her arms around him and speaks softly. “You are a good brother. And a good husband. And a good friend. You’re even sweet to those bitchy cats you have. I know you’ll be a good father.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Just hold her and talk to her.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“She can’t understand anything you’re saying. Just talk shit about Tomcat or Ruin. It won’t mean anything to the baby, but she’ll hear her daddy’s voice.”
Hobo looks at me over his sister’s shoulder. His gaze is so direct, and he’s clearly waiting for me to do something. Am I supposed to take charge and force Kourtney to back off? Or just claim the baby from him so he can breathe?
As his gaze holds mine, I think about when I saw that look before. Back then, we were still strangers, and he didn’t know if it was okay for him to want me.
I smile at Hobo and say, “I love you.”
Shuddering, he seems to deflate. His fear and rage are gone. He’s finally able to look at his daughter.
“Isn’t she pretty?” Kourtney asks, wiping her wet eyes and grinning at her niece.
Hobo smiles for the first time today. “She’s little. Smaller than Clementine was when she was born.”
“I bet she’s going to be a real ballbuster like me.”
Chuckling, Hobo roughly wipes his wet cheeks. “With my luck, yeah, she will be.”
“But she’ll have her dad to save her ass when she talks herself into trouble.”
Exhaling deeply, Hobo nods. He’s no longer in the past. His mind is on the future now.
He shuffles over to me with Meadow and settles on the side of the bed. I stroke his jaw as he exhales hard.
“I didn’t know what to do when you were in pain,” he mumbles and shakes his head. “All that Lamaze breathing shit just left my head. I couldn’t find any words.”
“It’s over now, and we’re together.”
