“Stop,” I said. “Just stop.”
He stopped.
From the kitchen, Evelyn woke up. Her thin, wavering cry floated down the hallway.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
I stood up. My legs were still weak, but they held. I walked past Ben, still kneeling on the carpet. I walked past my dad in the doorway. I went into the kitchen and unbuckled my daughter from her car seat and lifted her up against my shoulder.
“Shh,” I said. “Shh, baby. Mama’s here.”
She quieted. She turned her little face into my neck and snuffled.
I walked back into the living room holding her.
Ben looked up at us from the floor. At her. He looked at her for real this time. At her squished-up face, her tiny fists, her wild copper hair.
His whole face crumpled.
“Can I…” He couldn’t even finish.
“No,” I said.
He nodded. He didn’t argue. He just nodded, over and over, with his eyes on her.
