A few minutes later, Preacher wandered in. He was holding the baby in the crook of his arm and she looked small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Her little pink blanket was wrapped neatly around her, her bald head sticking out of the top, and he handled her as if she were attached to the inside of his forearm. "Joe!" he said, but he said it with quiet enthusiasm. "Great to see you, man." Joe stood and reached for the baby. "My turn, buddy. Let's see what you made here." Preacher handed over the baby and Joe brought her into his arms. "God, she's beautiful. I think you lucked out, Paige. I think she's going to look like you." "John's been worried that she'll be six-four and three hundred pounds. I tried to explain that would take a lot more testosterone than she'll have." "I want her to be sweet and beautiful like her mom," Preacher said. "How much did she weigh?" "Eight-ten. Nice and big." "She looks like a five-pounder in your husband's arms," Joe said. "You two do good work." "My man, it was the hardest work I've ever done," Preacher said. "Um, John," Paige said. "I didn't mean you didn't work hard, baby, you know that. But I damn near worried myself into the ground. Mel almost had to give me something." "Was it everything you thought it would be?" Joe asked. "It was way more than I thought it would be. I cried like a baby." These two, Joe thought. He wondered if they had any idea how cute they were.
( Robyn Carr )
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