Judy Duarte - Her Best Christmas Ever

“She’s beautiful,” he told Connie. “Are you still going to call her Amanda?”

“I don’t know. Does she look like an Isabella to you?”

She was asking him for an opinion? “It sounds like an awfully big name for a little baby, but I guess she’ll grow into it.”

“I could nickname her Bella. Or Izzy.”

Greg looked at the little flannel-wrapped cherub, at the rosebud mouth, the wispy dark hair.

“Not Izzy,” he said, thinking of a ton of rhyming words that kids might use to tease her, Dizzy or Frizzy or Lizzy Lizard. Kids could be thoughtless, he’d learned. And cruel. “But Belle or Bella suits her. Either one would make a good name for a little princess.”

Then he tore his gaze away from the mother and child, doing whatever he could to make Connie more comfortable.

Yet even when his job appeared to be nearly over, when he finally had an excuse to close the door and leave them to rest, he hadn’t been able to do so. Instead, he kept looking for reasons to stick around.

Had he really been the first human to touch that baby girl? The one to cut and tie the cord?

He sat in silence for the longest time, basking in a slew of emotions he couldn’t quite peg. Feelings he’d never experienced, never expected to.

As he got to his feet, he continued to watch them like some kind of voyeur. Or maybe he’d taken on a protector role. Either way, he couldn’t help feeling a bit envious.

Not that he expected to bond with the new little family of two; he’d done his part and could now go on his way. But as Connie whispered loving words to her new daughter, he found her voice soft and mesmerizing, the sight warm and touching.

When the baby looked at her with eyes that crossed, Greg damn near choked up. Again, he wondered if he really ought to be privy to this special moment, yet he was unable to move.

Awed by what he’d just seen, he was also caught up in admiration for thewoman who’d bravely fought pain and fear to bring her newborn daughter into the world, a woman who now bore a maternal glow and a mesmerizing beauty he couldn’t explain.

Connie, who cuddled her infant daughter in her arms, looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Greg. I don’t know what I would have done without you here.”

“It was no big deal,” he said.

But it had been bigger than big. It had been huge.

He didn’t think he’d ever forget this moment. He’d witnessed a miracle, and what had once seemed like the worst night of his life had somehow become one of the best.

The kind of night that made a musician want to grab his guitar and sit up until dawn, trying to re-create a memory in song.

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