Page 122 of More Than Words

“What are we going to call her?” she whispered, staring down at the sleeping bundle, a tear slowly tracking down her cheek. Her fingers trailed over her downy, white-blonde hair before she spoke.

We were waiting until she was born to see what felt like it fit. “Which one do you think fits her?” I asked, tracing a finger along the baby’s hairline.

“Finley. She looks like Finley. And I know you were trying not to sway my decision, but I know Fin reminds you of your dad.”

It meant fair haired warrior. Isobel had marked it as one of her favorites and a nod to my family’s Irish roots—more specifically, my dad. My father’s middle name had been Finn, and he’d been a fighter all his life until it was cut tragically short when I was a boy.

“He’d be proud of you,” she whispered, her voice emotional. I hoped she was right. His presence in my life had been cut short, but I wanted to be the father he had never had the chance to be.

“I hope so.” My voice was rough, unshed tears clogging my throat, but naming her Finley felt right. “Finley is perfect.”

Reaching forward, I ran my thumb along the edge of the baby’s jaw, smiling as her little lips puckered like she was sucking on something in her dreams. “She’s definitely our little warrior.”

Almost two weeks later, when I reentered the hospital room in the NICU, my hands full of coffee and snacks from the hospital cafeteria, Hutch was seated in the armchair in the corner. While I knew we were the same build, seeing my tiny daughter cradled in his large arms was surprising. The time we’d spent here had been filled with difficulties, but she was gradually making progress.

He traced the side of her face gently with his fingertip, likely thinking about all the moments like this he’d missed when he was overseas.

“Thank you for flying out here. I know how you feel about flying, but…” I trailed off, the exhaustion of the last few weeks settling in. We’d expected just to come here for the weekend to be in the wedding, and now we’d be here for at least another few weeks while we waited for Finley to be old enough to fly.

She’d been breathing fine on her own and working on bottle feeding, but she was still small and hadn’t passed the two-hour car seat test yet.

We’d weighed our options and while it wasn’t ideal, neither was a twenty-hour road trip with a newborn to get back to Boston. That’d likely turn into over thirty with how often she was feeding and the plethora of dirty diapers she seemed to go through in a day. And Isobel had been trying to pump as much as she could produce to supplement the preemie formula.

“Of course, man.” He leaned down to place a kiss on the middle of Finley’s forehead. She was so tiny, and she already had all the adults in her life wrapped around her little fingers. “You know Ma would be here if she could be, but with her hours at the hospital and Pops…”

“I get it. But I think it’ll be good to have another adult around, at least for a few days.”

“You know I’m stayin’ to help you guys get back home, right?” He straightened up in the chair, hugging Fin to his chest before he offered the little bundle to me.

“You don’t have to, but I think we may need help. She’s calm now, but this kid has some lungs.”

“Imagine that,” Hutch teased as I sat back in the chair next to his and carefully cradled the baby to my shoulder. “Your kid being a grouchy loudmouth.”

Isobel shifted, a small moan escaping her lips in her sleep. I felt terrible that we seemed to be trapped here, but neither of us had expected the baby to come nearly a month early.

“How’s Is doing with all this?”

Closing my eyes, I sighed. I knew she was having a hard time, but I wasn’t sure how to help her.

“She’s trying to be strong, but this has been hard on her. She already had a lot going on at work, and now…”

“I get it, kids don’t always do what you want ’em to.”

I wasn’t sure how much to divulge to him. The guilt she seemed to carry around with her about taking the promotion and trying to balance motherhood had weighed heavily on her. I wasn’t sure there was room for me in the equation sometimes, but I loved both these women, and I wasn’t ever going to willingly walk away from them.

Our dad and Hutch were stronger men than I was with how they left the country to go serve overseas and miss time with their children. They’d both made sacrifices for their families that I couldn’t even imagine.

“Yah know if you guys need help during the day, I can handle it. I know everyone thinks I’m an invalid, but I can take care of a kid. With Penny in school now, my days are wide open.”

“It’s not that. We’ve got daycare in the building. Neither of us is worried about someone watching her. I think Is is more worried about the work trips she needs to take and the long hours she’s used to pulling.”

“Gotcha.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankle over his knee. The metal of his prosthetic glinted in the overhead light, and I was still shocked he flew all the way here without his cane. “Just know the offer is there if you need it.”

“I appreciate it.”

And I did. Having two parents who worked full-time would be a challenge, but I’d never ask Isobel to compromise her career to change that. It was a relief we’d have family close by if we needed it. Isobel’s support system—even if her parents hadn’t been giant assholes about the unexpected pregnancy—was halfway across the country.

“How much longer do you think she’ll need to be here?”

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