As I sat on the plane that would take me home to my husband and family, I watched the face of my second grandchild sleeping contentedly on the seat beside me, his little thumb stuck in his mouth. He was dressed in the outfit I had bought him and was snugly ensconced in his new safety seat that, luckily, Judy went out and got for him on her break.

All of the nurses at the hospital had been dumbfounded and then angry when they realized that Carly had ditched her new-born son and hadn't so much as asked Bosco or I if we would be able to look after him. I chewed on my bottom lip as I replayed the last two days events in my mind, trying to fathom the enormity of what had happened. How could Carly do such a thing?

It was during that plane ride that I realized the depth of what Brett and Carly had done. They had to have planned this for a very long time. They had the papers ready for me to sign; they had bought their tickets in advance; had cleaned out most of their apartment and left only the furniture and nicknacks.

They had traded in one life for another; the life of her son for a life with each other.

When I had returned to the apartment with Davis I had found a letter propped up on the table with my and Bosco's name on it. As I read and reread the words, I found a kind of anger boiling up in me that threatened to consume all of my days and nights. My son and daughter-in-law had left their child, abandoned him for selfishness and the promise of a life together. I knew in my heart that they would never be happy. She would resent him for making her give up her son; he would never forgive her infidelity of being with his brother. It didn't matter which way they turned; someone would always be hurt.

I leaned back and rested my head on the seat as I pondered about my present situation. Would I be able to raise this little boy until he became a man? I was in my fifties, which meant that I would be in my late seventies before he even finished high school. How would Bosco react to having me come home with a new baby for him to be a father to? My stomach was tied in knots as I thought about the fact that I hadn't even called him to let him know about the 'new' addition to our family. Could we keep this baby or should I have considered letting a young family who had no children take him?

As if he read my thoughts, Davis began to stir, his little fist came out from under the blue blanket and he opened his mouth and let out a small cry of protest. He opened his eyes and looked at me for a second before closing them again and wiggling around a bit. His tiny brown face puckered up into a grimace before he let me know that he was hungry again.

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, little one." I cooed softly, as I unbuckled him from his seat and took him out and held him close to me. He was so tiny, in his six pounds, that he felt like a feather in my hand. His diapers were the size of a small baggie and looked ludicrous on his small bum and legs. I opened the new diaper bag that the hospital nurses had given me as a parting gift, and got out a small bottle. A plump stewardess with long red hair and a ton of makeup saw me and came over and offered to heat it up. I gladly gave it to her and set about stroking Davis's back and his head to try and comfort him until his dinner came.

"How old is he? " She asked when she returned. She leaned over and stroked a red nailed finger over his head and smiled at me.

"He is three days old." I said proudly, surprising myself at how happy I sounded.

"He's a sweetie. What's his name?"

"Davis." I answered, as I put the bottle in his mouth. He took it immediately and began to drink.

"Nice name. You look great for just having a baby."

I laughed. "Me? Oh, no. He's my grandson. But thanks for the compliment."

"Grandson? Well, I've got five of my own. Love each and every one of them. They sure are a lot more fun than raising your own." She said with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. "Any time, hon. Well, I better get back to it." She said and walked to tend to another passenger.

The plane landed at LaGuardia uneventfully, which was the way I liked it. I wasn't a huge fan of flying and I worried about dying every single time I stepped foot on a plane. I got Davis secured in his seat, placed a small receiving blanket over the top and proceeded down the isle with the other passengers.

We took a cab home, the long drive making me more nervous with each passing mile. I watched the scenery pass by, wondering how my life had turned out to be so crazy. The truth was that I didn't know if I could handle raising another baby. What if Bosco didn't want to do it? Would he be angry at me for bringing Davis home with me?

He'd just have to get over it, I decided, as I watched Davis sleeping peacefully beside me in the back seat. I brushed my hand over his cheek and felt my love for him growing rapidly. Poor little boy, who was left at that hospital by the woman who was supposed to protect him from all harm; left like a piece of baggage; left but not forgotten, I was sure. Carly would regret her actions for the rest of her life.

By the time the cab pulled into our driveway, I knew it didn't matter. Davis Boscorelli was home. Where he belonged. With his family. I felt the butterflies well up inside my stomach as I saw our Mustang in the drive. Knowing it would only be a few seconds before I had to explain myself, I felt almost dizzy with the thought of facing my husband with this new baby.

I should have called him again to let him know.

I should have given him time to adjust.

I paid the driver and walked up the front walk with Davis in one hand and my bag in the other.

Welcome home, I thought to myself.

Welcome home.