Open Hands

"There, there, little one," she cooed to the newborn. "You're alright. You're in safe hands. I promise you."

It's dissatisfied little moans permeated the quietness of the room. Rubbing its whiskers this-way-and-that, it tried to search for the warmest spot to rest its weary head. Squirming in the palms of what seemed like a giant to it, the babe tucked its legs underneath of itself, trying to retain as much heat as possible.

"God, he's going to hate me for this, but hopefully he'll come around sooner or later."

As the sound of the door hinge signaled his arrival, he said, "Honey, I'm home! How'd the fundraiser turn out?"

"Oh, just lovely. We hit our mark more than three times today thanks to your advertising skills!"

"Well, that sounds great!" His voice echoed from the kitchen, she could hear him rummaging through the cupboard and the cutlery drawer. "I'm making a sandwich right now. Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good." Then it struck her, "Well, actually, I'd like for you to come here. I got a surprise for ya'."

"Oh really?" His mind immediately raced towards his carnal desires. "What is it you'd like to show me?" His footsteps approached rapidly, eager to satisfy his curiosity.

As soon as he rounded the corner, and saw her holding the babe, he had stopped dead in his tracks. Even his sandwich hung limp in his mouth.

"Now, now, before you begin, I just gotta tell you that I found this little cutey in a box near the dumpster on the side of the building while I was tidying up from the event. I just couldn't leave him there, and I figured that since you've-."

"Stop."

She stammered, "But babe."

"Please, stop." He turned to leave.

She placed the newborn in a laundry basket laden with blanketed pillows before giving chase. "Babe, what's the matter?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

The sandwich became crushed in his hand, its contents oozing out from all sides of the bread, "I'm just- I'm just not ready."

She began to rub his back, "I know babe, but it's been well over a year."

"Still, I'm not ready. I can't replace her like that. I raised her since she was a kitt in highschool. Dealing with sleepless nights just to make sure that she was well fed. I even broke my perfect attendance record for her."

"Shhhh, shhh, shhh..."

"Then after she passed, I thought I could do it all over again with another one, but-," the words caught in his throat as his eyes began to swell, "after I fed him and he went to sleep on my chest, I woke up an hour later and he wasn't breathing anymore. My shirt was stained red from his button, and I just felt absolutely powerless to do anything. I couldn't do anything to help him."

As his tears rolled, she wrapped her arms around his back and began to sway him from side-to-side, "Well, listen, I know that your heart's still hurting, but that little one still needs someone to love him." She stopped so they could hear the his little mews echo from the living room into the hallway. "Honey, I'm not asking you to love him, but if you wouldn't mind could you please love me through this process?"

Taking in a deep breath, he calmed himself, "Okay. That, I can do."

"There's my big, strong, man." She kissed him on the cheek, "Now, I'm going to need your help, cause I have no idea how to bottle feed."

"Did you buy some formula?"

"Box is already sitting in the kitchen."