My son’s wife had always refused to let anyone hold their baby—until the day of my birthday party.

hurt.

“She’s magnificent,” I said.

Tristan smiled. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

I approached and looked at my granddaughter. Her little fists were folded under her chin, covered with pink mittens.

“May I?” I asked softly, reaching my hand towards the crib.

Nancy opened her eyes suddenly.

“She just fell asleep.”

His voice was calm, but firm.

I froze. “Of course.continue reading …