Page 18 of Handful

“I haven’t even—”

“Whatever you’re thinking, no.” She shifted Maya to her other hip and opened the closet door wider with her free hand. Pushed past the row of flannels and black T-shirts and the jacket I wore on runs. Found something near the back.

“This.” She pulled out a navy button-down I’d forgotten I owned. I’d bought it for the sister-in-law’s birthday dinner, the one where she’d made it clear: no cuts, no black T-shirts, dress properly. It had been hanging there since, pressed between a hoodie and a leather jacket, waiting for a reason to wear it again.

“Too formal,” I said.

“Not formal enough.” She held it up against my chest, one-handed, eyeing it critically. Maya reached for the collar. “Roll the sleeves to the elbows. Wear it untucked. Clean jeans — not those, the dark ones. Black boots.”

“Anything else?”

“Shower.”

I shot her a look. “I was going to shower.”

“Shower twice.” She hung the shirt on the back of the door and looked at me. “Where are you taking her?”

“Fir & Salt in Willowbrook. Bea’s recommendation.”

Indira’s brow went up. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

She considered that, then held Maya out toward me. “Take her a minute.”

I took her without thinking. Maya came easy — she always did with me — just a small sound as she figured out where she wanted her head and then she was settled, cheek warm against my shoulder. She reached up and found a fistful of my hair and held on.

I let her. Tilted my head a little to give her better reach while Indira crouched to deal with her shoe.

“She’s going to be trouble,” I said. “When she’s older. Going to break hearts and bust balls at the same time. Nobody’s going to see it coming.”

“She’s fourteen weeks old,” Indira protested.

“I know what I’m saying. She’s got the look.” Maya made a soft noise, not asking for anything, just registering my voice. “She’s got a whole club full of uncles though. Nobody gets close without passing inspection.”

Indira looked up from the floor. “Speaking of.”

“What?”

“Think about what you just said.” She stood. “About Maya. About her potential dates - which are very, very, very far off in the future - needing to pass what will no doubt be a very thorough inspection by all of you. Her uncles.”

I nodded. Sure. Yeah. I said that.

“Austen’s somebody’s daughter.”

I nodded again. Yeah. That tracks. Austen’s got parents.

“She might have brothers. Maybe uncles. Men who’ve known her since she was small — who feel exactly what you feel right now about that baby in your arms.”

Oh.

Maya pulled my hair. I didn’t move.

Indira watched my face. “You already convinced her to give you tonight — that was the hard part. Just remember she’s got a father while you’re sitting across from her. It’ll keep you honest.” She reached for Maya, who made a sound of protest when she left my shoulder. Indira resettled her on her hip and moved toward the door. She stopped. “One last piece of advice, Handful.”

I looked up. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fuck this up.”