In His Arms

he coffee house who introduced himself as Al

g at my entwined fingers on my lap， still embarrassed

motionlessly. "And you took care of his kid wh

ng up. Jeez， Mr King h

mmended you without your knowle

in my house so you can take

ls his kid? How strange... "Um

I need round the c

for me to be there around the

o his eyes，" Your baby does need you...

chill go down my spine like I“m being

to be a father，" he snarls. "I

rshness. "I“m sor

I don“t think you“re the one for the job.

t him，" The person you“re looking for isn“t human that“

have no qualms about it， I“d feel sorry for t

something else at

ure to the door. "Unlike you，

y chair， my limbs and hands shaking from

an imb

*

ter me as I clock out for the

ring to Alexander Holt when he had

asks， clockin

you asked him why I thr

when，" Mr King murmurs， as we leave the buildi

describe a man who would call his own c

is no need to call a

s off， a routine for us when we get off work late， his way of sayi

heck the grocery list I had co

flour， margarine， ja

r supermarket next to the a

grabbing a basket， I quickly get all that I need when

k into each and every one of th

e cover pulled over in the middle of the walkway， a sharp wailing

see the most adorable， chubby cheeked， grey-eyed

out wails turn into soft gurgles and baby love noises， rocking him to and f

its own in the supermarket，

，" I coo in the motherly voice I seem to take on

es of baby diapers， food， wipes， o

ce of one Baby Johnsons wipes， assuming that the baby in my arms is around five

more..." I mutter， my fingertips brush

s at the faces I“m mak

but it“s rude to laugh at someone w

ner“s elbow， reaches up for the tin I couldn“t reach. Smiling

specimen， with his white office shirt loose and untucked， matched with

iredly， passing me the formu

with a thump. This ad

ing on the story and ShannonQuick for adding my story