It had been a long day of waiting. Crumpled snack wrappers and empty soda cans cluttered the end tables already stacked with out-of-date magazines. Eventually everyone from both sides of our immediate families had gathered to welcome my first grandchild. There was another family waiting too, but we were a formidable crowd, laying claim to most of the available seating.
Finally word came that she was here! The excitement was palpable. When the next pink bundle was presented, we rushed the window to see her.
But something felt wrong. Not one of us felt warm and fuzzy about this baby.
“Who do you think she looks like?”
“I’m not sure. Her eyes look like…never mind. I thought maybe Uncle George, but he was an honorary uncle, dad’s best friend.”
“Her mouth sort of looks like…no…not really…hmmm…”
“She looks kinda weird if you ask me. Not like any of us.”
“Her face is too long. Who’s nose is that?”
I tapped on the glass to get the attention of the attending nurse, “The Jones’ baby? Is this the Jones’ baby?”
She nodded “yes”.
Clearly, she couldn’t hear me. I persisted, spelling out, “J.O.N.E.S? Mother’s name Terry? Dad’s name, Chris?”
The nurse paused. Finally comprehending, she mouthed, “No.”
Our entire entourage sighed loudly in relief. A few “thank god’s” we’re muttered. As we scattered back to our seats, I noticed the other family patiently waiting in the corner.
Smiling sheepishly I said, “I think this baby might be yours.”
kat ~ 19 December 2015
A story in response to Ronovan Writes Friday Fiction Challenge. This week’s prompt was to write about a family gathering. If you’d like to read other stories or write your own, click HERE.