“Honey, I know it’s hard to have perspective. But…but try to think about how blessed we are to have a beautiful, healthy baby daughter—”

“Peter, I’m only thirty years old!”

And then came the tears, the sadness so pure and honest it mercifully muzzled his moronic ramblings. He brought her face against his chest, and she sobbed on his shoulder.

“It stinks, Rina,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry!”

The information was too devastating to handle consciously. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

Holding his daughter, Decker felt comforted. There really was something to be grateful for. If only Rina could hold Hannah. He knew the contact—the bonding—would lift her spirits.

The baby slept as he rocked her—a perfumed package tucked in the crook of his arm. Decker kissed her forehead through his mask, his coffee-laced breath recirculating through his lungs. It wasn’t unpleasant—beat the early-morning sourness in his stomach. Rabbi Schulman had come as soon as he called. He was with Rina now, watching her sleep, giving Decker a chance to see his daughter without worrying about his wife.

Decker hadn’t out-and-out told the rabbi what had happened to Rina, but the old man had figured it out by what wasn’t being said. Decker felt bad discussing Rina without her consent, but he made a judgment call, hoping it was the correct decision. In the past, the old man had always been a source of comfort for both of them.

Cindy pulled up a chair beside him. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Decker smiled under his mask. “I only make beautiful girls.”

Cindy gave a soft laugh. “You look…serene, Daddy.”

“Babies do that to you. Brings back lots of memories of when you were born, kid. It was hot and muggy, and I remember thinking your mom was going to dehydrate if I didn’t get her to the hospital. I can’t believe that was nineteen years ago. Where does the time go?” Decker chuckled. “That’s swell. Now I’m sounding like an old geezer. Stop me before I become my father.”

Cindy laughed. Decker looked at his elder daughter’s face, at the dark circles under her eyes.

“You didn’t go home last night, did you?”

“I fell asleep. I rested.”

“Go home, princess. Rabbi Schulman is with Rina. I’ll wait for Rina’s parents to take a shift.”

“They just arrived with the boys not more than five minutes ago. They’re waiting to see the baby. You should put Hannah in the layette so Nurse Simms can wheel her into the window area.”

“Oh, sure.” Decker stood, then settled the sleeping infant in her cart. He draped an arm around Cindy. “Did you ask Mrs. Elias if she’d stay with Hannah?”

“Yeah. She said she’d be delighted.” Cindy lowered her head. “Guess I’m not needed anymore.”