Across The Hallway

Chapter 43: MEET AND GREET

Jeffrey pushed through the heavy double doors, leaving the noisy waiting room behind. The hallway beyond was quiet, filled only with the low hum of monitors. The doctor led him down the corridor, opening the final door with a quick nod. "Take all the time you need, Dad," she said, stepping back to let Jeffrey through before pulling it shut.

Amber morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a dim glow across the room. Christine leaned against a stack of pillows on the bed, pale, her dark hair damp at her temples. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her breathing slow and heavy. Swaddled against her chest in a striped blanket and a tiny beanie was a small bundle.

At his footsteps, Christine lifted her head. Her expression softened, though fatigue still weighed down her features. "Jeff..."

His throat tightened. Letting out a long breath, Jeffrey crossed the space between them and dropped to his knees beside the bed. He rested his arms along the edge of the mattress and searched her face.

"Look at him, Jeff," Christine said quietly, adjusting her arms so he could see. "He's here. Our Christian."

Jeffrey looked down at the flushed, sleeping face tucked against her shoulder. A small hand had worked its way free of the blanket, resting over Christine's chest. His own hand shook as he reached out, pressing a knuckle into the tiny palm. Small fingers immediately locked around his. "He's... he's beautiful, Chris," he said, his voice catching. "You... God, you were amazing." He leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead, lingering against her skin before wrapping his arms around them both. "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you for bringing our boy to us."

Christine closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder. "We did it, Jeff. He's finally in our arms."

"We did it," Jeffrey murmured, stroking the crown of his son's head.

Christine glanced down at the baby, then up at Jeffrey. "Do you want to hold your son, Dad?"

Jeffrey paused, looking at Christian and then down at his hands. "Are you sure? He's... he's so small, Chris. What if I hold him wrong?"

"You won't," she said. "Just support his head. Come here."

Jeffrey shifted onto the edge of the mattress, bending his arm into the cradle shape they had practiced in parenting class. Christine carefully transferred the blanketed weight into his arms.

The baby felt light against his chest. Jeffrey cupped the back of Christian’s head, making sure the striped beanie stayed pulled over his ears. "Hey there, buddy," he whispered.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Christian let out a small sigh, his brow scrunching slightly before settling against Jeffrey’s collarbone.

Jeffrey looked down at the tiny fingernails, the curve of his nose, the flutter of his eyelids. Tears blurred his vision. Pressing his lips to the baby's head, he murmured, "I've got you. I'm right here, Christian. Daddy's got you."

Christine reached over, laying her hand on Jeffrey’s forearm and running her thumb over his wrist as she watched them.

A hesitant knock came at the door before it swung open. Jeffrey’s mother peeked inside, her hands immediately flying to her mouth. "Oh, sweet Lord..." she whispered, stepping in and holding the door open.

Mr. and Mrs. Javier followed her inside, with Jeffrey’s father trailing behind to close the door against the hallway noise.

Mrs. Javier went straight to the bed. She leaned over Christine, taking her daughter's face in her hands. "My sweet girl," she said, pressing a kiss to Christine's temple. "You did it, Christine. You were so brave."

"I'm okay, Mom," Christine replied, squeezing her mother's hand. "Look at him..."

Jeffrey’s parents stood beside him, looking down at the baby. His dad placed a heavy hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder. "Look at you, son. A real natural."

"He's perfect, Jeff... absolutely perfect," his mother said, dabbing at her eyes before brushing a finger against Christian's hat. "He has your chin, you know."

Mr. Javier stepped forward, gazing at the newborn. He touched the baby's blanketed shoulder with a calloused finger. "Welcome to the world, Christian," he murmured, looking up at Jeffrey. "Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter and my grandson, Jeffrey. We are so proud of you."

"Here, Mom," Jeffrey said, shifting carefully toward Mrs. Javier. "Do you want to hold your grandson?"

Mrs. Javier wiped her eyes and took Jeffrey's place on the bed, extending her arms. Jeffrey transferred the baby to her lap, supporting Christian’s head until she had a firm grip.

While the grandparents gathered around the baby—whispering, touching his fingers, and trading quiet laughs—Jeffrey stepped back to Christine's side. He slid his fingers through hers and rested his forehead against hers.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Javier turned to her husband. "Here, Dad... take your turn with our grandson," she whispered, helping him position his arms.

Mr. Javier hesitated before taking the bundle, using his hand to cup the back of Christian’s head. "Look at you, little man," he murmured, brushing a thumb against Christian’s cheek. "You've got your mother's sweet button nose."

Jeffrey pulled a chair beside the bed and took Christine's hand. She leaned back against the pillows, watching her father.

"Look at my dad," Christine whispered, nodding toward Mr. Javier. "I don't think I've ever seen him hold anything so delicately."

"He's terrified he's going to wake him," Jeffrey said quietly, kissing her cheek. "It's perfect."

Mr. Javier stood and turned to Jeffrey’s mother. "Your turn, Grandma."

Jeffrey’s mother stepped forward with open arms. The moment Christian was in her arms, she began to sway, humming under her breath. "Oh, my sweet little boy," she cooed. "You have brought so much light into this family already."

Finally, Jeffrey’s father stepped up, clearing his throat as his wife transferred the baby over. He held Christian with stiff caution, ensuring his neck was supported, before taking a seat. "He's lightweight, but he's going to grow up strong—just like his dad," he said. Christian let out a sleepy yawn, drawing a soft gasp from the grandparents.

As their parents passed the baby around—tracing tiny toes and debating whose features he inherited—Jeffrey squeezed Christine's hand. "Look at what we made, Chris."

Christine looked at him. "The best thing we’ll ever do, Jeff."