Chapter 6  

*
Mason and Julia entered the ward together. Mason looked as if he was ready to bolt any minute. Julia walked on with the determination she did not exactly feel. It was one thing to coo over the little box of a cradle, and quite another, to take the baby in her arms, and in his father’s presence, too. She did not want to get too emotional when Mason was around, but, most probably, it was too late already.
He barely crossed the threshold and froze at the door. “You go ahead.”
Julia shot him a glance, then came up to the couveuse and leant to it. Matt was not sleeping. He seemed quite content with everything, if a little lonely. Julia’s appearance interested him: he focused his eyes and made a face. She smiled.
“Oh honey, ohhh. Sweetest baby. Hello, Matt. Hi little angel.”
She did not realize she was talking to the baby in a very special voice. It was actually the one all women use talking to babies, especially when the babies are their own flesh and blood. Mason felt a grip come over his heart. He supported himself against the door post and went on watching.
“How are you doing today, Matt? Ah, sweetie. Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Merry Christmas, Matt. Can I hold you, eh? Would you mind?”
He let out a quiet sound as if saying he did not mind. Julia reached out carefully and took him in her arms. Instinctively he turned to her breast. She laughed shortly and changed the position.
“No, Matt, I am sorry. I am not mummy, and I cannot feed you. But I can love you up just a little bit. You’re suffering from mother deprivation, aren’t you, luv? You must be hugged and kissed and cuddled and loved, eh, Matt?”
The baby snuffled.
“That would be enough, Julia,” Mason said sternly.
“Enough? I’ve just started. And you have not yet touched him.”
“It’s ok; you can go on cooing and cuddling. Just stop lecturing me, will you?”
“I am not.”
“Aha, and ‘deprivation’ is a word all babies know even before they are born.”
Julia cackled. “Ok, I was; just a little bit. I just sounded what I thought.”
Mason shook his head reproachfully. “Julia. Don’t you see I am trying hard?”
“I do,” she said earnestly. “Ready?”
He backed. “No Julia--”
“See, he looks just like you. I do believe he is yours.”
“He is.”
Julia raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“I thought you said--”
“I know now.”
“How do you know?”
“Mary tol--” he caught her eye. “Ok, forget it.”
Matt shifted. Julia felt uneasy too. “Mason?”
“Yes?” he said in his haughtiest manner.
“Are you saying you talked to Mary? I don’t mean to--”
Mason turned away. “I said forget it.”
Julia shut up.
After a pause he went on, “I did see Mary in my dream. You think you’re the only one grilling me about my neglecting Matthew?”
She wisely kept her silence.
Quietly, Mason came up, stretched out his finger and tentatively touched the boy’s hand. “Hi Matt,” he said, and the voice seemed to break.
Julia smiled.
“Matt, may I introduce your proud father, Mr. Mason Capwell? Shake hands, gentlemen, will you?”
Mason shook his finger and Matt’s tiny hand. He could not master a word.
“Want to hold him?”
Mason backed again. “No.”
“Ok. Fair enough.”
She kissed the little head carefully. “Merry Christmas, Matt.”
“Merry Christmas,” Mason echoed.
A nurse came in, breathless. “What a touching scene,” she said with affection. “Ah, Ms Wainwright, isn’t it?”
Julia nodded putting the baby back into the couveuse.
“Dr. Merrick said he knew you could be found right here. He’s looking for you, you know.”
“Coming, thank you very much.”
Julia hurried to the door. She paused just a second. “Merry Christmas, Mason.”
“Merry Christmas, Julia.”
When she was already gone he sighed almost inaudibly, “And thank you.”

Ok, Dr. Merrick she said.
For Mason it was a matter of minutes to find out what kind of doctor that was.

/Olga Lissenkova/


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