Page 43 of The Wrong Move

“Where is your little princess?”

He grins at me, and pride oozes from him. “Penny is feeding her.”

A solid wood door to our left leads to their bedroom. I peer into the empty cradle at white sheets with a pink ribbon design dotted over the white.

“I don’t have a gift. Is there something she needs?”

Franklin’s brow pinches slightly.

“Notneeds,” I correct. “I know you have thought of everything. More what can an uncle give his first niece?”

“That we know of,” Jobe jokes.

“Unlike you, I have been careful my entire life,” Frank snaps.

“Stop.” Mom presses her finger to her lips. “This is not the place for that talk.” She glares at Jobe. “Babies need calm. They can pick up on emotions, and the last thing Summer needs is to sense her father is angry.”

Well, this is going to be fun.

“Do we just sit here and smile lovingly at each other?” I ask.

“Yes. In the presence of my granddaughter, that is exactly what you shall do.”

I roll my eyes at Jobe.

The internal elevator dings, and the door slides open. My father steps out. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Carson, please take the stairs.” Mom shakes her head. “There is no need to use the elevator. The noise is a disturbance.”She points to the bathroom. “And wash your hands before you touch anything.”

My father looks behind him to the elevator, and a bewildered look crosses his face. Franklin shoots Mom a small smile of appreciation. Dad says nothing and does what is asked. When he returns, he heads straight to Franklin and shakes his hand.

“Congratulations, son. I’m glad you made it back from Australia in time.”

“Only just,” he says, holding onto our father’s shoulder. “I wanted to pilot the plane myself.”

Dad muffles a laugh. “I bet you did.” He scans the room. “Where is Charlotte?”

Mom takes his hand for him to sit beside her. “They went home to freshen up. She will be back here in an hour or so.”

They?

“How was Lottie and BJ’s bickering?” I ask Franklin. “She declined my offer to drive them home, so I haven’t had a chance to speak with her.”

Franklin looks at the door as though eager for Penny to appear. His forehead creases before he answers my question. “I didn’t see them until the flight home. They laughed a lot, which annoyed the fuck out of me, so I spent most of the time in the bedroom. I tried to get some sleep, but my stomach was in knots worrying about Penny.”

Charlotte and Brandon didn’t fight?

Before I have time to ponder his words, Penny emerges from the bedroom in a strapless, flowing, white dress. We stand as though royalty has entered. Penny smiles at Frank before peering down at the bundle in her arms. “She’s sleeping.”

Mom approaches Penny and peers over her shoulder. “She’s perfect.”

Penny continues smiling while gazing at Summer, the joy of being with her daughter written all over her face. “Franklin, do you want to hold her?”

He looks at his father, then Penny notices me. “Hi, Byron.” She tentatively walks toward me. “Would you like to hold Summer?”

The baby is hours old, and Penny is still recovering from labor. I look at Mom and then Penny. I shake my head. “She’s too little. I’m scared I’ll drop her.”

“Jesus.” Franklin groans. “Imagine she’s a basketball, and Kirk is trying to make a steal as you head to the basket.”

---