Jotaro rocked back and forth in his chair, his head bowed, the nun's arm across his back. He wasn't really praying, more like meditating, calming himself, trying to contain the tainted fragment of his soul. Suddenly, distress flooded his mind. The baby was freezing. She was being stuck with needles. Chemical drops stung her eyes. She was starving. But she was alive.

Jotaro sat up straight. "She's alright," he said to the nun, without thinking, grinning wider than he ever had before. "I can tell, she's alright."

The nun formed a tight smile. Did she think he was having a mental break? Or maybe she believed in signs. A nurse appeared in front of them, and the nun's face softened.

"Come with me, Mr. Kujo."

Jotaro could hear the baby crying as he followed her through the hall. The sound took the weight off his shoulders, filled his chest with calm.

"There we go," another nurse's voice echoed as they drew closer, in a childlike tone. The baby was cooing. Jotaro turned a corner to see a bundle in the nurse's arms. He could make out his daughter's face. Tiny eyes. A flapping mouth. "Do you want to hold her?" the nurse asked. Jotaro outstretched his arms.

She was so delicate, so small in his arms, as he took her. Jotaro was afraid she might break. More careful than he'd ever been, he shifted her so her head was resting against his chest. One hand spanned her tiny back. Her small breath warmed his neck. She was so perfect, so special, he could gaze at her forever. He never wanted to let go.

Jotaro froze time, wanting to extend the moment. He could feel the baby, flickering, in her heart, her head, her limbs, stronger than in the womb. He wondered if she could feel him too. "You know me," he whispered, as the seconds started moving, "I'm your father." He focused on how pleased he was, hoping it would project into her mind.

Jotaro was interrupted by a nurse giggling nearby, "He's adorable." She had the tone of the girls who had stalked him at school. Jotaro shot her a scathing glare, but his eyes caught the curtain as well. Carmen was behind there. His stomach lurched and he swallowed. His voice shook, "Is my wife okay?"

There was a shuffling from behind the curtain and the doctor stepped out. He was wearing a hairnet, and his forehead had a smear of blood. "She'll recover." The doctor blinked with exhaustion, but a part of his voice was grim. Was there something wrong with the baby? Seemed so perfect. "Your wife was hemorrhaging badly. We had to take out her uterus and part of her intestines. It's going to be a long recovery …" Jotaro tried to focus as he babbled about medicines, rehab, doctor's visits as the baby squirmed in his arms.

"Can I see her?" Jotaro asked, stroking his daughter's back.

"Give me a minute."

The doctor disappeared behind the curtains, then they opened. Carmen was in bed, her hair spread out on a pillow, still and unaware, like Sleeping Beauty. Blood pooled on each side of her torso, soaking through the sheets that the doctor had hastily thrown down to hide it. Tucking the baby beneath one arm, Jotaro carefully brushed her cheek.

Jotaro wanted to be there when Carmen woke up, but he was in another room, watching a nurse weigh the baby, then demonstrate how to feed her from a bottle. He got back to her bedside just in time to see the doctor walk away.

"Look who I have here." Jotaro grinned widely, giving the baby one last bounce before laying her on Carmen's chest. Her eyes lit up as she gazed at the baby's face, stroking her small back with a deep sigh. "Irene just had her first bottle." That was the name they'd picked. It was easy to pronounce in English, Spanish and Japanese.

"She doesn't look like an Irene," Carmen murmured. She was still staring at their daughter, rapt, but her eyes held a distant sadness. "How about Joanne? Or Jolyne?" Carmen hesitated, her shoulders slumping, before looking up at him.

They'd agreed that when they had a son, he could be Jotaro's namesake, but that wasn't going to happen now. A girl successor felt strange, almost against the natural order, but he always did get a little bit less. Jotaro swallowed the pang of guilt that immediately rose in his gut. His daughter was such a gift. "I like Jolyne," he whispered, admiring her, brushing his fingers across her small back.

Jotaro was exhausted. It had been three weeks since he and Carmen had left the hospital, and she still could barely walk. He'd just come in from a night working at the aquarium, they really needed the money. He was hoping to take a nap, but Jolyne was squalling.

Jotaro found Carmen in bed, rocking the baby.

"She won't stop crying." There were tears running down Carmen's cheeks too.

"Let me see." Jotaro gave Carmen a soft look as he lifted Joyne out of her arms, but her eyes were glassy. He stopped time, focusing on Jolyne. She was a bit hungry, her clothes were sweaty and her diaper needed changing, but that was fairly typical. Then he felt a painful cinching at the waist.

Time started flowing, and he feigned examining her clothes. He was surprised by how tight her pants were. Carmen must have really had to force them on. He unbuttoned them. "Her pants are too small."

"Really-" Carmen started, but Jolyne had already quieted. "You're so good with her," she murmured.

Jotaro lingered, relishing her smile, which faded too soon, then took Jolyne to the bathroom. He gave her a bath in the sink. She splashed around, which was adorable, then he put her in a fresh diaper, but they didn't have any pants that fit, so he wrapped her in a towel instead. There was one clean one left.

Jotaro carried Joylene back into the bedroom, but Carmen was asleep. Her face was ashen, and bones jutted from her shoulders. She'd burned through the weight she'd gained during the pregnancy in a matter of weeks. Jotaro carefully stepped out and closed the door. She needed rest to heal.

Jolyne started fussing on the way down the stairs, so Jotaro warmed a bottle. As he sat on the living room sofa, holding her against his heart as she drank, all he could see was things that needed to be done. Soiled bedding was piled up by the washing machine. The dryer was full of clean sheets. Dirty dishes still sat on the table from dinner. Jolyne didn't have any clothes. They were getting low on groceries, and if he didn't make Carmen lunch, she wouldn't eat.

Jotaro leaned back on the sofa, trying to get comfortable, then his eyelids drooped shut. He woke up with a start. Jolyne was still in his arms, thank heavens, thank heavens, but the bottle had rolled onto the floor, the lid popping off. Milk soaked into the carpet.

Fuck, that had been the last one. Now he had to boil some water, then sterilize the bottles, then mix fresh formula. Hopefully Jolyne didn't get too hungry in the meantime. Jotaro tried to summon the energy to stand. He could call Blanca, or even Camilo, to watch the baby for a few hours. Oscar could bring them some groceries. But what would they think? That he was too young, too weak, undeserving. He stumbled to his feet, Jolyne tucked under his arm.

Every weekend was a party. Starting Saturday morning, Carmen's relatives filled the house. Jotaro would have rather rested, and maybe spent some time with Jolyne. He was always feeding and changing her, doing chores. They never really got a chance to play.

But Blanca and Castilo burst through the door soon after Jotaro returned from work, excited to see their granddaughter. Blanca squinted as he offered her a seat. "You should get some sleep."

Jotaro hesitated. He should get them drinks, try to make conversation in Spanish.

Blanca put her hand on his shoulder, "You don't look so good."

Sighing, his cheeks warm, Jotaro slumped off to the guest room. It was dark when Jotaro woke up. He hoped their guests might have left already, but he could hear voices booming in the distance. They must be drinking.

Smoothing his hair, Jotaro walked out to the living room. Oscar was in a wingback chair, sipping a beer, chatting with Carlos, who had recently been released from prison, meanwhile, Camilo, Castilo and Blanca were with Carmen, who was cradling Jolyne. It was unlike her, but Jotaro could tell Carmen that liked the attention. Carlos was good at sports, Camilo got good grades and Catalina already modeled for department stores, but Carmen had never really done anything that impressed her family before.

Jotaro greeted Oscar and Carlos, sitting down on the floor nearby. He hadn't seen Oscar for a while. The older man smiled, but before he could speak, Carlos cut in, speaking Spanish, continuing their conversation without acknowledging him. Jotaro gritted his teeth, but they were talking fast, and he couldn't follow the conversation. He thought he heard something about basketball, but he didn't want to interject. Maybe he was wrong. They could be talking about a dying relative.

Blanca strolled over and interrupted, in English, "I saved dinner for you."

Jotaro followed her to the kitchen, which he noticed was now sparkling clean, and she pulled saran wrap off a plate, which was piled high. It was a relief to be away from the buzz, and he ate hungrily.

"When is your family coming?" she asked, as she gave a nearby countertop an unnecessary wipe. Her voice was so natural and naive.

Jotaro put his fork down, grasping for how an American would answer, but he was still tired, and couldn't find it. "I don't know."

Blanca pursed her lips. "I suppose it's a long flight."

"18 hours," Jotaro said without thinking.

Blanca formed a strained smile. "I liked your mother. I'm looking forward to seeing her."

Jotaro sighed, stabbing his fork into an empanada. He felt hollow, like his clothes were propped by sticks. Laughter spilled in, from the living room, like it was coming from a different world. But Jolyne was out there, being loved, being fawned over, being celebrated. Maybe one day, like Blanca, she'd innocently ask a friend where his family was. This was the gift he was giving her.

Sorry, missed last week, I was on vacation, and I'm going to skip next week's for important Valentine's day plans :) I hope to be back to the normal cadence soon!