Chapter 6 - The Day He Held His Son
Noah was five weeks old when I finally let Ryan take him alone for a walk.
Not far.
Just around the block.
Ryan stood by the door with the stroller, checking and rechecking the blanket.
“You have diapers?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Wipes?”
“Yes.”
“Bottle?”
“Yes.”
“Extra shirt?”
He looked at the bag.
“Yes.”
I hesitated.
Ryan saw it.
“You can come with us.”
“No,” I said. “You need to learn.”
He nodded.
Then he lowered Noah gently into the stroller.
For thirty minutes, I stood by the window pretending not to watch.
But I watched.
Ryan moved slowly.
He stopped whenever Noah made a sound.
At one point, he crouched beside the stroller and whispered something I could not hear.
When he returned, Noah was asleep.
Ryan looked different.
Not proud.
Not triumphant.
Humbled.
“He likes the trees,” he said.
I almost laughed.
“He is five weeks old.”
“I know. But he looked at them.”
I looked down at Noah.
Ryan touched one tiny foot through the blanket.
“I missed three days,” he whispered. “But I will remember every day I get from now on.”
I met his eyes.
“Do not promise me forever.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“Promise Noah the next right thing.”
Ryan looked at his son.
May you like
Then he said, “I will be here tomorrow.”
That was the first promise I believed.
