“Very aggressive hospital air.”
He had been waiting to meet Ivy ever since.
During her thirteen days in the NICU, he sat on his porch almost every afternoon, even though he knew I wouldn’t bring her home without calling first.
So when I turned onto his gravel driveway, I knew exactly what I would see.
The rocking chair.
The old coffee mug.
Grandpa watching the road.
He saw my car and jumped to his feet so quickly that his mug fell from the porch rail and shattered.
He didn’t even look down.
“There are my girls!”
My eyes immediately filled.
I parked, climbed out, and carefully lifted Ivy’s carrier.
Grandpa hurried toward me.
“Let me see her.”
I smiled.
“You’ve waited thirteen days. You can wait five more seconds.”
“That seems unreasonable.”
I unfastened Ivy and lifted her against my chest.
Then I placed her carefully in his arms.
“Meet your great-granddaughter.”
Grandpa looked down at her.
