Him wonderful? He was a nervous wreck, barely hanging on. He didn’t understand how Peta could look so serene as she took their baby and
set about feeding him. Tiny Tim had no problems though. He latched onto one of the best parts of the world and obviously knew it was heaven-sent. A chip off the old block, Matt thought, as he relaxed back in his chair and watched one of the miracles of nature.
He was so tired he almost nodded off. A tap on the door brought him alert again. The instant rise of aggression faded as the visitor proved to be Peta’s mother, not an officious nurse.
“Mum! How lovely!” Peta cried in surprised pleasure. “I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”
Nanna Kelly—her choice of grandmotherly name—handed Matt gifts for the baby and hurried to Peta’s bedside, gabbling excitedly. “I couldn’t wait for your father. I caught the train down. My goodness! Doesn’t he have a lot of hair?”
Peta laughed.
She actually laughed.
“Black. Like Matt’s. Isn’t he beautiful?” she crowed proudly.
As the two women discussed his son’s beauty, Matt sat in stunned silence. Except for that one black period after the miscarriage when Peta had, as she’d said, lost herself, she was a fighter, capable of standing up to anything and boldly moving forward. He knew that, yet he was staggered by the way she seemed to have put yesterday’s pain behind her.
“I hope you’re not too disappointed, Mum,” he heard her say.
“Disappointed?” Matt echoed incredulously. “Why should she be?”
“Remember John’s fourth was another boy,” Peta answered equably. “Tim is the eighth grandson in a row, Matt. Mum was hoping for a girl.”
“It truly doesn’t matter, dear,” her mother assured her. “As long as he’s healthy.”
Matt approved this sensible sentiment. If Peta’s mother wanted another granddaughter she could look to Megan or John or Paul to provide it.
“He’s absolutely perfect, Mum,” Peta crooned. “Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to have a girl next time.”
Matt couldn’t believe his ears. Next time? How could Peta contemplate a next time? Had she somehow contracted amnesia?
His mother arrived next. Harold, her friend from the Bridge Club, had driven her down from Gosford. Harold was beginning to feature very strongly in his mother’s life. She had come a long way from the health farm.
She took one look at the baby and cried, “Oh! He’s the spitting image of Matt!”
Peta laughed. Again. Maybe it was some form of euphoria that came after the safe delivery of a baby, Matt reasoned.
“There’s certainly no doubting who his father is,” Peta agreed, smiling at him with a glow of love that made his heart turn over.
His mother bestowed a benevolent smile on him, too. It spurred Matt into a response. “Sorry it’s not a girl, Mum,” he said, remembering she had fancied buying pretty things. Both Nanna Kelly and Grandma Davis had apparently been thinking pink. “You’ll have to make do with a boy.” Especially since Timothy Andrew was the only grandchild she was going to get.
“Well, dear, I’m sure you and Peta will have as much joy in your darling little son as your father and I had in you,” she replied warmly.
“We certainly will,” he agreed. “I was just thinking of your pleasure.”
“You mustn’t mind me, dear.” To his astonishment, she actually blushed. “I’m afraid I won’t be available to do much baby-sitting.”
Matt couldn’t quite swallow his surprise. “Are you telling me, after years of nagging...”
“Now, Matt, you did say you weren’t having a baby for my sake. I’m very happy for you and Peta. Delighted that everything’s turned out so beautifully. And he’s perfect. Absolutely an adorable baby...”
A “but” was hanging in there somewhere.
“Isn’t a grandson good enough for you?” Matt demanded irritably.
“Of course he is!” she protested, shocked he could think otherwise. “I know I’m going to love our Timothy to bits. And when I am home...”
“You’re going away?”