(This is in the same universe as The Storyteller and Christmas In July but you don't necessarily need to have read either of those to appreciate this one)

March 1903

Jack still couldn't believe she was here.

Nine months of waiting, watching in awe as Kat's belly grew. They spent hours sitting across from each other at the table, or sprawled out across the couch with her head in his lap, or walking through the city bickering about names. She'd loved Magnolia, Hattie, and Michael; he'd loved Laura and Maeve, maybe Patrick after his dad. That was the hardest part. How could they assign a random name to someone they didn't know?

Then she arrived, quickly, late at night on the first day of spring. Kat studied her full head of sandy blonde hair and her wide, curious eyes. "Daisy." She blurted out. It wasn't a name they'd talked about, but Jack nodded.

"Daisy." He repeated. "Daisy Ciara."

.

As the sun came up the next day, Daisy was content and Kat savored a precious few hours of sleep. She was facing away from him, wrapped in a soft grey nightgown with her auburn curls falling loosely down her back. Jack kissed his wife's cheek, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and scooped his daughter out of her bassinet.

Daisy fussed at being awoken. "Shh, shh." Jack said. He leaned back into his pillow and laid the baby on his chest: warm, trusting sleepiness melting into him. She was so small.

He hadn't been around a baby since his youngest sister was born when he was five-a whole lifetime ago. He was the first of his friends to have a kid. "I don't know if I'll be too good at this, darlin'" Jack said quietly. "But you seem awful comfortable there."

The baby gave a sigh and swatted at the air with her hand. Jack offered his index finger and she grasped it tight. Jack let out a deep breath and his face cracked into a hesitant smile. "I see how it is."

Daisy had fingernails, and long eyelashes, and wanted to have someone hold her hand. "You're a whole person already. Only little." Her eyes fluttered closed. They were greyish blue, but Kat had said babies eyes often changed colors. Would they be green like his? Chocolate like Kat's? Bright blue like his mother's and sisters' had been?

Jack pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. He hadn't let himself think about them in a long time. Molly, round and red-headed, always laughing until pneumonia snatched her away on a cold night in March just before her first birthday. He put his hand softly across Daisy's back like a shield. He could still see every nook and cranny of his childhood apartment, but he couldn't remember if it'd been the 3rd floor or the 4th. There'd been a long, narrow room with shiny wood floors and a big black stove, and the bed he'd shared with his sister Ciara was below a spot of ceiling that always leaked.

He made himself open his eyes and come back. His sisters and parents weren't here. But his daughter was, and she had his nose and Kat's mouth.

"You're named after the wildest gal I ever met, a mhuirnin (uh WER-neen, darling or sweetie)" The Irish term of endearment his father had once whispered to his sisters stumbled off his tounge. It'd been at least fifteen years since he'd heard it. "Your mama and Ciara would've been fast friends." His sisters had both practically been babies themselves when they'd died. It was impossible to picture them as teenagers, as aunts to this beautiful new creature who now needed him more than anyone had needed him before.

"You've got a whole pack of uncles itchin' to meet ya, ya know. Theys ready to spoil ya rotten."

Race wanted her first word to be something absolutely ridiculous. The little boys, Crutchie, Henry, Specs, Buttons, and Elmer, were skittish curious puppies. He couldn't really call them little anymore. They were all at least sixteen, but Jack still saw them as the scrawny grade schoolers who'd made him laugh when he was wrapped in a dull, grey fog of loss. Davey, who now worked at a library, liked to give Jack all kinds of unsolicited advise about babies.

But right now, he couldn't picture sharing Daisy with his brothers. He didn't want to share her with anyone, ever. It felt like the middle of his chest was made for her soft, sleeping body.

Kat stirred and rolled towards them. She threw her arm around Jack's middle, then cracked her eyes open and put her hand on top of Jack's. "Good morning, Daisy." She whispered.

xxx

Ahhh friends I've missed writing stuff like this! I worked 25 days in a row the first part of August (hanging onto my summer job and working at a school) so I've barely had a minute to breathe. I enjoy everything I'm doing, but I was ready for a day off. Thanks for reading and reviewing, loves! ~Em