He walked into the room, his hands in his pockets. Did he sit or stand? Did specific rules apply?
“Do you want us to stay?”
As he turned to answer, the nurse returned, wheeling Rosita in her bed into the room. Brad and Jon stepped aside as she parked the bed against the wall. “I need to check your wrist band,” she explained.
He looked down at his wrist. When they admitted Daisy, they both were given wrist bands with the same number on them. The nurse looked at his, then compared it to the one on Rosita’s ankle. “If you need anything, press that intercom button on the wall,” she said softly, then left.
Ken walked over to the bed. The name tag on the bed read, “Baby Girl Dixon.” Someone had wrapped her tightly in a white cotton blanket with blue and pink pinstripes. She had a little pink cap on her head. He carefully scooped her up. His hands looked enormous as they lifted her tiny form. Maybe, she just looked unbelievably tiny. When he brought her to his shoulder and inhaled her new baby smell, she made a little cooing sound that broke his heart all over again.
He turned and faced his brothers, the two men who knew him best in this world. “This is the room they save for fathers. I bet your babies are in with their mamas right now. They have this room because we don’t have a room anywhere else. It’s like our manger.”
Brad nodded. “It’s good they have a room like this.”
Ken pressed his lips against Rosita’s little head then walked over to the rocking chair. “You two don’t have to stay. Your wives are probably going out of their minds. Go be with them.”
Jon came fully into the room. “Alex is busy with Anne. I’m here. Unless you don’t want me here. Then I’m gone.”
Brad sat on the sofa. “Same.” He gestured toward Ken. “How could she possibly look so much like you?”
Ken cradled her in his arms and looked down at Rosita’s face. He ran a fingertip over her black hair and down her cheek. “Because God intended me to be her daddy.”
They sat in silence for two hours. At one point, Jon fielded a text and left, bringing back Rita and Rosaline.
“Ken,” his mom said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Still rocking the baby, he looked up at her, then back down at the infant. His mom said, “Go with Brad and get something to eat.”
He stared down at Rosita’s face. She had her eyes open, big black pools of amazement with ridiculously long curling eyelashes. His heart broke in new ways. “No,” he said, his voice still sounded hoarse. “I’m okay to miss a meal. I’ll stay.”
Brad walked over to the window, and Rita took his place, perching on the edge of the couch. “May I hold her?” she asked with tears in her eyes.
He focused on her face and could read the worry etched into every line. Then his brain unjumbled her words, and he stopped rocking. “Of course, Rita. Sure. Of course.”
She smiled down at Rosita and murmured to her. Ken took the opportunity to stand and stretch. His mom said, “Go, Ken. Rita and I are right here, and I have my phone.”
He gave a pained look at Brad, expecting his brothers to come to his defense. Instead, Brad stepped forward and said, “That’s a good idea. Let’s all go get some food. It’s been a long day.”
Ken slipped his hands into his pockets and followed his brothers into the hall. “I’ll stay here,” he said.
Jon turned. “Ken, they’re going to be a while, yet. I checked just a few minutes ago.”
With a shrug, he said, “I know. I just don’t want to leave Rosita.”
“She’s in the safest hands she could possibly be in,” Brad said. “Let us take care of you for a little while.”
As they walked down the long hallway, he paused at the doorway to the waiting room. He could see a sea of bodies on their knees and his father, their pastor Danny Brown, and Marcus standing next to each other, heads bowed.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Prayer vigil. They’ve been at it for about two hours now,” Jon said. “Mom said she and Rita both stood up at the same time with the desire to come pray over the baby. That’s when mom texted me.”
In the cafeteria, they found a quiet table. In the lull after the dinner rush, very few people occupied the space. Some came for coffee and left. Others clearly grabbed a meal while they could. Ken stared down at his sandwich and wondered how he could possibly ever feel hungry again.
He rubbed his finger and thumb over his eyes, then pinched his nose. “Daisy knew something bad was going to happen,” he said.
Brad set his fork down and leaned closer. “How so?”
“She had a dream. Well, same dream a few times. Couple of weeks ago. Sent her into a frenzy. I thought it was in some pregnancy-induced hysteria. I completely patronized her.” Tears filled his eyes. “Stupid.”
“Frenzy, how?”
