Middle class was so far out of his reach, Mitch was never going to get that, even if he stretched. So he needed to get his shit together and remember that Cam was here because of a favor.
He was here to be kind. Do his Christian duty.
Okay, that thought made him cackle because shit. Cam? Christian duty?
That didn’t seem to go.
He got a bottle and started feeding the baby, whose name he still didn’t know.
Rachel came and stared at him for a second and the baby in his lap. “Who’s that?”
“Miss Leanne’s baby. Isn’t she pretty?”
She pursed her lips. “Was I that pretty when I was a baby?” She sounded like she was giving him a test. It was very important that he get this right.
“You were beautiful when you were a baby, so little, so tiny but perfect. Do you know who the first person to ever hold you besides me was?”
“The doctor. Sarah told me.”
“Actually, it was your sister, Bekka, after the doctors and nurses cleaned you up. She was the first family person besides me to ever hold you.” God, Sarah was an asshole. He adored her.
“And my momma didn’t hold me because she was dead.”
He nodded. He never lied about it. What good would it do? Bekka and Sarah remembered. “Yes. She died when she was pregnant with you. So they had to get you early so that you didn’t go too.”
Her head tilted, and she kind of stared. “Shouldn’t I have stayed with my mom though? We could have been in Heaven together. We could have been ghosts together. I mean, if you’d let me stay with her.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know that I could have made it if I didn’t have my little girl. I need my baby girl.” Also, he was going to kick Sarah Jane’s ass up one side and down the other. “Honey, can you get me your sister?”
“Which one?”
The little gothy one who’s about to get grounded for a week for trying to tell her sister that she should have died rather than be delivered by emergency cesarean.“Sarah, please.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She turned around, ran off, yelling, “Sarah, Sarah, Daddy wants you!”
He stared down at the baby, who was lustily sucking on the bottle. “Don’t ever start talking.”
Sarah strolled in a few minutes later, book under her arm. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey. Sit.”
“Whatever anybody said I did, I’m sure I didn’t do it, and if I did do it, I’m sorry.”
“Sarah, I?—”
“Okay, I can be sorry even if I didn’t do it. Whatever. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”
Poor, poor, put-upon little gothy girl. He shook his head. “Sarah, breathe.”
“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath, blew it out dramatically, and then did it again. “What did I do?”
“Actually, I asked you to come in because I need a favor.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Okay, what?”
“Could you ease up on your sister, the little one, about the ghosts, please? You’re worrying her.”
Her eyes twinkled a bit, and an evil grin spread across her face. “Am I?”
