PART 3

By the fourth day, Trevor stopped complaining.

By the sixth, he no longer waited for instructions.

If a bottle needed washing, he cleaned it. If one baby cried, he moved before I could stand. When I reached for something, he quietly said:

“I’ve got it.”

One night, I woke and heard voices in the nursery.

Trevor had fallen asleep in the rocking chair with one daughter resting against his chest. The other slept nearby.

Frank stood in the doorway.

He gently placed a blanket over his son’s shoulders and whispered:

“You’re already better than I was.”

Trevor did not hear him.