Page 71 of Over & Out

Chris

“Samuel Thompson,” Tru says, her voice raspy as she looks adoringly at her surprisingly massive baby boy.

“We haven’t decided on a middle name,” Kevin says, looking almost as rough as his wife.

It’s the next morning—Tru only came out of recovery half an hour ago. I told her we could wait to see her and booked a couple of hotel rooms close by, knowing Hopper wouldn’t want to be the hour drive across LA traffic to reach her.

“May I suggest Hopper?” Hopper says from the other side of the bed, where he perches on a chair, staring at baby Samuel like he’s a miracle of nature, which, of course, he is.

“Please don’t,” I say. “For our sake. He would be insufferable.”

“I would not.” Hopper levels a look at me over Tru’s legs, but leans back, sighing. “Okay, fine, Iwould. Anyway, look at this kid. He’s too beautiful for a name like that.”

He really is beautiful. He’s got cherubic cheeks and lashes half a mile long.

“Do you want to hold him?” Tru asks Hopper.

“Oh. No. I’m not good at that kind of thing,” he says, sitting up stiffly.

Before the plane landed, Hopper had gotten up and showered, because of course there was a shower on board. When he came out, he looked like a new man. Gone was the handsome lumberjack straight from set who smelled like pine trees and ripe sweat. In his place was a man who could very easily pass as (and I’m pretty sure in the past had been) a cologne model, with combed-back hair, a white button-down, and chinos. He even put on cufflinks, which flash now as he shifts in his seat.

“Now’s as good a time as any to learn,” Kevin says. He takes his son from his wife, who smiles gratefully. She tracks her little one as Kevin walks over to Hopper and gives him a quick tutorial on baby-holding.

Hopper rubs his hands on his thighs. “What if I do it wrong? His head’s squishy, right?”

I hate how adorable he looks worrying about this. On the plane, his eyes went wet when he found out they were okay, and I hated that too, because it made my heart all soft when what I need to do is stay strong. Firm. Resolute.

When Hopper finally takes the baby, he looks like he’s never taken a job more seriously in his life. He laughs almost disbelievingly when Samuel sighs and settles against his forearm. His stupid, gorgeous forearm.

“He’s perfect, Tru. Fucking—I mean fudging—perfect.”

“He can’t understand you, dummy,” Tru says affectionately.

When Hopper looks up, his eyes don’t go to Tru. They meet mine. His expression says the words as clearly as if he’s speaking them aloud.

Can you believe this? Look!

His eyes are filled with so much love I feel like I’ve taken a punch to the solar plexus.

I clear my throat, looking away. That’s when I notice Tru’s eyes are on me too. She looks suspiciously like she knows exactly what’s going on between us.

Which is funny, because I don’t.

“Honey,” Tru says to Kevin suddenly, her voice much clearer than it was a minute ago. “Would you mind taking him for a little walk? I could use a minute.”

My stomach twists. I hope she really means that and she’s not looking to talk to me.

“I can help,” I say, going to stand up.

“Nope,” Tru says, clapping a hand on my forearm. “You stay with me.”

No such luck.

“Here,” Kevin says. “Let’s try walking.” He holds his hands out around Hopper’s arms as Hopper takes a tentative step.

“That’s it. And you can bounce him just the tiniest bit too.”

“I thought bouncing was bad?”

---