Wild Hope – Bonus Scene

Three months later…

The toes are so tiny I can barely see them. His little feet wiggle, and his hands clasp thin air with palms so tiny that they’re smaller than my thumb.

It’s been three hours and thirteen minutes since we welcomed my son into the world. And I cannot stop staring at him.

He’s perfect. Ten little fingers. Ten little toes. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his wrinkled little face is pointed towards my wife.

My amazing wife.

I’m still processing what I’ve witnessed over the last thirty-six hours of labor. I didn’t know women were capable of such things. I mean, I knew it, but I didn’t really know it until I saw it with my own eyes.

I’ve witnessed Kendra crouched over, making noises like a wounded animal. All I could do was mop the sweat off her brow and call the midwife, who assured me it was perfectly normal for my wife to be braying like a cow.

And then the pushing when I thought she’d rip in two and the glorious moment when my son slid out and into the waiting arms of the midwife. I cut the umbilical cord and laid him down on Kendra’s chest and the little guy waggled his head, sniffing the air for her milk.

A nurse helped him latch for his first feed, and again I was filled with wonder. That my wife not only brought this new life into the world but is now feeding him, keeping him alive with her own body.

I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but this has been the most humbling.

Now Kendra is sleeping and I’ve got Noah in my arms. I can’t stop looking at the both of them, thinking about how lucky I am.

The curtain around the bed moves, and Quentin appears.

There’s been tension between me and Quentin ever since Kendra and I got together. I thought it would ease once we were married, and it has on the surface. We’re friends again, but I sense that he’s holding back, that he still hasn’t quite forgiven me for hooking up with his little sister.

Kendra wakes up, and she smiles at her brother.

Hey, Uncle.”

He starts at his new moniker, and I hold the baby up to him.

Quentin stares at Noah and looks reluctant to take him. I don’t blame him. Noah’s so tiny he fits in the palm of my hand. It’s not something we’ve been around before, babies.

“Meet Noah, your nephew.”

Quentin takes him uncertainly and wraps his enormous hands around him. “Is he supposed to be that tiny?”

Kendra gives a tired smile. “Any bigger, and I would have had to have stitches. I’m lucky he’s three weeks early.”

The little guy was so keen to come out that he caught us all by surprise.

I watch Quentin carefully, because something’s happening as he looks down at his nephew. The permanent frown he wears softens.

“Hey, little guy,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Noah reaches a tiny hand toward the sound of his voice and Quentin strokes the almost translucent fingers, a look of wonder spreading across his face.

“I’m your uncle.”

Quentin’s voice cracks, and he blinks quickly.

“Are you crying?” says Kendra incredulously.

Quentin wipes his eyes. “Nah, it’s the dust from the road.”

I share a look with Kendra and take her hand across the hospital bed. Quentin hands us back the baby.

“That’s my nephew,” he says proudly and slaps me on the back. His eyes are wet, and there’s a genuine smile on his face.

“This is your family now, man. I know you’ll take care of them.” There must be more dust getting in his eyes, because he wipes them again. “Just going to use the washroom.”

He exits hastily, but me and Kendra barely notice. Our eyes are on our son, our beautiful, perfect boy.

Maybe that dust is in the building, because as I look down at my beautiful wife cradling my son, there’s a sting behind my eyes. She’s radiant and exhausted, with a wide grin on her face as Noah latches onto her breast.

My heart opens, and I can’t stop the tears of happiness at the sight of my family.