LINDY SUPPOSED THAT many different versions of paradise existed. She had already concluded that a long time ago. Paradise was everything from seeing her mother's smiling face in a dream to lying awake in bed at night with Kurt, her limbs tangled with his and their faces close together.
But this new kind of paradise was better than all of those things put together. This paradise was cradling her son in her arms, laying in a bed and staring down upon his angel face as he slept against her, his cheek pressed into her chest.
And of course, it wouldn't have been paradise without Kurt. He was in the loveseat, pulled once again up to the beside as he peered down at the baby's face with wondrous eyes. At some point, he'd turned on the radio in the room — music was drifting softly over their heads. It was still the early hours of the morning, but neither of them could sleep.
Trae had been one of the very first visitors that Lindy and her new baby had encountered. He'd entered his sister's hospital room with trembling hands, his olive face blanched white with obvious nerves as he quietly approached Lindy. She'd smiled at him with tears in her eyes, savoring the feeling of watching his gaze fall upon his nephew.
"Lindy," was all Trae managed, emotionally pulling his lips together into what Lindy had assumed was an attempt to hold back the hitching emotion in his chest. He'd leaned over her, tucking his finger into his nephew's tiny, balled fist. As soon as they'd made contact, Trae had no longer barred himself from his tears. Lindy could see the wetness growing beneath the rims of his eyes.
"This is . . . amazing," Trae breathed. She smiled, figuring that he meant all of it. Her being a mother, him being an uncle. They had gone from teenage siblings to grown adults with children of their own, but one thing had remained unchanged, and that was the brotherly, sisterly love that they shared.
"Think Hannah will like him?" Lindy had asked playfully, gesturing that Trae hold the baby for himself. He did so readily, grinning as Lindy slipped him into his arms with cautious care.
"Like? Lindy, she's going to adore him. Anyone would. He's perfect."
Perfect. It wasn't Trae's approval for her baby that Lindy had necessarily sought. She didn't need approval from anyone to know that he was perfect. It was more so the triumph that Trae saw him the same way that she did — as a gift. A glorious, unblemished gift, bestowed upon her with grace. A truth that proved that she and Kurt had been right about each other all along. They were perfect together. They had beat the odds and their relationship had survived, all coming down to this.
Lindy smiled happily to herself in her bed, adjusting her baby against her chest as she recalled the memory with Trae. He had had to leave eventually, but he'd exited the room with rapid promises that he would soon return. She was counting on him too. It had made her heart spring jovially in her chest to see her brother cradle her son.
"I'm surprised," Kurt murmured. He trailed a finger, light as a feather across the pale blue cap fitted snugly on their baby's head.
"About?" Lindy asked, a whimsical smile on her face. Beth had helped her pull her matted hair into a ponytail, and even through the exhaustion written across her features, she was glowing with excitement.
"I really thought that he would be a girl."
Lindy automatically bit the inside of her lip, unable to hide the frown that was suddenly set on her mouth. She had heard that phrase before in the past, a faint echo of her childhood memories, except it had now been reversed.
"Are you disappointed?" she questioned, unable to actually believe that Kurt would have really cared about the gender of their baby in the end.
"No," Kurt laughed quietly. "I'd never be shallow enough to hold a preference. He's perfect, Lindy. I just never pictured myself fathering a son, only because I was scared I wouldn't be good at it. I'm still scared."
