“No, not until three months old,” Mamma said.
Daddy’s smile widened, his eyes bright with love. He pulled me to him, my back to his chest, so we were both watching her. “Daddy,” I whispered, “Her skin is like light toast whereas your is dark toast.”
Daddy bit my earlobe.
“Ouch, that was meant as a compliment.”
“You know I take any opportunity to nibble on you. As for the color of her eyes, we won’t know for sure until she’s at least six months old. Some babies don’t grow into their natural color until one year.”
“She’s been out long enough. Go sit in the family room on the sofa. I’ll change her diaper and then you can hold her. She’ll be asleep for a while yet. Have you had lunch?”
Following Mamma inside, Daddy said, “Not yet. Do you want me to run out and get something?”
Mamma shook her head and adjusted the baby on her shoulder. “I’m going to make sandwiches with leftover eggplant parmesan.”
“Nice,” Daddy said. “I could do it for you.”
“You’ll give me more of a rest if you hold Isabella. She might be tiny but after a long while, she gets heavy,” Mamma said, not the least bit sounding like a complaint.
When she left the room, Daddy hooked his finger under my chin and turned my face to his. “Does Isabella want to make you run?”
“No,” I said, surprising myself. “She’s like a tiny miracle. Her organs must be no bigger than a quarter or half dollar.”
Daddy brushed his stubble across my chin and along the side of my face and murmured, “If we were alone, I’d get on my knees and blow you until I draw every drop of cum from you.”
I should have be used to Daddy making me get a boner. “Daddy, shush.” Settled on the sofa, I laid my head on his shoulder. A few minutes later, Mamma came in carrying something that I assumed had the baby in it.
As she came closer, she placed the carrier next to me and I had a mini knee-jerk reaction.
Mamma smiled warmly at me. “She doesn’t bite. That’ll come when she’s teething, and she thinks your finger is something to gnaw on.”
I peeked inside to see Isabella on her back, cocooned in a blanket. Only her face and little hands were exposed. “Daddy, she should be next to you,” I said but didn’t take my eyes from her.
“Do you want to hold her?” Daddy asked.
“Nuh-uh, not yet. Let me see you do it,” I said, not knowing when I’d get used to picking her up.
Daddy pushed to his feet and came around me. With his big hands, he cradled the little thing and sat down. Squeezing his legs together, he laid her on his lap.
I looked up to ask Mamma a question, but she’d left. “She hasn’t opened her eyes yet.”
“Mamma told me that they’re sensitive to light for the first few days,” Daddy explained. “They keep them closed to protect them.”
I hooked my arm in Daddy’s and leaned against him. “She’s like a little bird the way her hands flutter about as if she’s trying to fly.”
Isabella began to squirm and whimper. Daddy calmly picked her up and placed her on his shoulder as Mamma had. “When you hold her up, you have to make sure to always support her head. The other sensitive place to be wary of is the soft spot on top of her head. I forget what it’s called but it’s a dent that begins to close at nine months.”
“God, there are numerous milestones. See, this is where I’d have to make a hundred notes to remember everything to be careful of.”
Daddy touched theVthat formed in the middle of my forehead. “Don’t fret, baby. Except for those two things, I imagine it’s a matter of practice until your mind and body create muscle memory and you begin to do things naturally.”
Seeing Daddy’s large, splayed hand supporting her, I said, “You make it look so easy. You’re used to working with your hands doing a hard manual job, which is a plus. May I touch her?”
“Of course,tesoro,” he said and laid her on his lap again.
My hands were smooth. Very gently, I stroked her arm and then the side of her face. She seemed to respond to the feeling of me and her head turned toward me. My free hand flew to my mouth so I didn’t gasp out loud. “Did you see that?”
“Yes,” he said as astonished. “Try it again.”
