Mouse

chapter twenty six

There could be absolutely no dispute that George Alexander might not be Ricardo's son. He was like a little miniature version of him, with his swarthy skin and wisp of jet black hair and I had no doubt in my mind, that those eyes which were blue at the moment, would eventually turn dark as well

I had been facing the thought of motherhood with a certain trepidation, wondering if would be able to handle it, and now that I held him in my arms I was overawed by the fact I was responsible for this tiny life, and how much it was going to depend on me.

There was no shortage of well meaning advice from Angela and my Aunt Lizzie, but I discovered when I finally was able to leave the hospital to return home, some natural instinct seem to take over and I knew what to do.

Unfortunately there was one small setback; our house was not ready for us to move into yet for another week. So we had to make do with our present circumstances, and our son slept in his crib in the living room with me, which I didn't really mind, I was finding myself incredibly over protective and didn't want to be too far from him anyway.

And within the first week of nursing and caring for him, I was amazed by the bond that had already grown between us, even though sometimes I looked into the small face and seen Ricardo staring right back at me, it did nothing to diminish the growing love I felt.

And even though I was grateful for all the help from Ricardo's mother and sisters, I preferred it in the evening when they all had to go, and I had time alone with my new son. I was starting to get into my own little routine.

I would bath and change him after his evening feed then put him in the crib and I would sing softly to him till he fell asleep.

Usually Ricardo would be in the spare room working out, doing his exercises and therapy

But tonight he finished earlier than usual,

I wasn't really aware of his presence, until I looked up from the crib where our son was now sleeping, and seen him standing leaning on his crutches in the doorway silently observing me.

I suddenly felt a little self conscious that he had caught me in one of my more tender moments with our son, and I stood up in the pretence of having to do something.

Not that there wasn't things that didn't need doing; We would be moving in two days time, and there was still stuff to sort out. So I started to fold away the latest baby clothes that had been made or bought as gifts from friends and family in the circus

And even though I had my back to Ricardo, I was aware of him now moving. When I turned he was standing just a few feet away looking down at our son sleeping in the crib, then his dark eyes turned on me

"I think he likes you singing to him," he then remarked, and I felt my cheeks heat up

"Well I like singing to him," I replied finding it difficult to look Ricardo in the eye.

He now made his way over to where I stood, "It made me remember the first time I heard you sing, it was in this very apartment when your Grandfather was here," he then said,

I recalled the moment, and suddenly felt my heartbeat quickening as Ricardo took another step closer, continuing, "I came in, and you were holding your Grandfather's hand, singing to him; and I remember standing there and thinking to myself, 'That sweet sound cannot be coming from Mouse." he finished with a small twisted smile

Despite the fact I knew my face was probably scarlet, I looked up at him, also recalling the expression on his face at that time. But I had been too upset about my Grandfather at the time to register it, but now I was curious