His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage by Patricia Davids

last few days had seemed longer than a month. He was bone tired, but he needed to get this meeting over with.
    “What about this child’s real father? Don’t you think he has something to say about this?” Mary demanded, crossing her arms over her ample bosom and rattling the lid of a dainty teapot that sat in the center of the table.
    Mary was the oldest, and he expected the most opposition from her. He’d often joked that he’d been born with three mothers instead of one. Alice, the sister closest to him in age, was his senior by twelve years. His mother sat at the table with them but she remained quiet.
    Mick said, “According to Caitlin the baby’s father is dead. She told me when we first met that there isn’t anyone.”
    Mary’s frown deepened. “Even so, I can’t see why you think you need to be the child’s parent. Did you even consider the financial obligation you’re taking on? You’ll have to support this child until she’s eighteen even if her mother recovers.”
    “I know that.”
    Mary’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And if her mother doesn’t recover? Do you think you can raise a child alone?”
    “Yes, I do,” he answered with more confidence than he felt. He’d asked himself these questions and more over the past several days. He might not be the best parent in the world, but he intended to give it his best shot.
    He looked at each of his sisters in turn. “She’s a tiny, helpless baby—so tiny I could hold her in one hand, and she doesn’t have a soul in the world to care for her. No one should have to go through the things she is going through alone.”
    “Will she...will she be right?” Alice asked.
    “What do you mean?” he asked.
    “Children like this—aren’t they—sometimes mentally challenged?”
    Mary looked at him with pity. “Oh, Mick, what have you gotten yourself into?”
    He wanted to ignore their questions. He knew the possibilities, but it didn’t change the way he felt. Beth was his, for better or for worse.
    “It’s too soon to tell if she will have disabilities,” he said. “Tests show she had a small bleed in her brain. A Grade Two, they called it. Some babies do have problems after that, but some do fine. We can only hope and pray she’ll be healthy, but it doesn’t matter.”
    “Of course it matters!” Mary’s tone was incredulous. “Did her mother use drugs? Is she addicted? Has she been tested for AIDS?”
    Mick tried to curb his annoyance. Couldn’t they accept that Beth was simply a baby in need of love and affection?
    His mother held up her hand. “Hush, girls, and leave him alone. You two don’t know how lucky you are to have had healthy babies. No child comes with a guarantee. Only God knows what we will have to face. I’ve been willing to trust Him all my life and so does Mickey. It’s something both of you would do well to try.”
    He took a deep breath. “If I can’t do anything else for her—even if she doesn’t make it—I can see that she’s not alone in this life.”
    Mary’s gaze fell before his. “But signing paternity papers seems so extreme.”
    “It was the only way,” he said.
    Alice lightly clapped her hands. “Great speech. Just the right touch of a plea for maternal understanding. How long did you practice?”
    “I think what Mickey is doing is wonderful.” His mother rose to his defense. “It’s not like he’s totally clueless around children. Why, he babysits your kids often enough.”
    Mary gave a huff. “Watching the kids for an hour or two is not like raising them. And what about your job? You can’t simply take off for the next few months.”
    “I can use the vacation time I’ve got coming, and I can afford to take off a few more weeks if I have to.”
    “And when this baby comes home from the hospital? Who’s going to watch her when you go to work? You can’t expect Mom to take on the job at her age.”
    “I’m not expecting any of you to take care of Beth. I’ll arrange for day