Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 30

“Dorian,” he heard his mother say. But she wasn’t addressing him, but the person who entered the room. “Come see our wonderful son. I was finally able to get the nurses away from him.”

This should have been the elder Gray’s happiest day. This should have been a time for celebration.

Dorian, Sr. came forward, wiping his brow. “They ran more tests, Olivia?”

“No,” she replied, holding back a laugh, “all the nurses in the maternity ward crowded all around him and said he was most beautiful baby they have ever seen.”

A smile suddenly appeared on the man’s face. “Only a few hours old and he’s already a lady killer. Way to go, Dorian!”

The baby giggled and stared into his father’s eyes. The elder Gray was quite captivated by him and he thought the newborn was ready to say his first few words. But it turned out to be a burp.

Olivia knew as much as she prayed to God that one day she would cradle Dorian’s own baby in her arms, tweaking its little nose, and gently pinching its soft, pillow cheeks, at some point in the next ten hours.

“Looks like he doesn’t have any of your manners.” Joked Olivia.

“Hey, in some cultures that is a form of respect.”

“Would you like to hold him, dear?” She asked, gently holding Baby Dorian out to him.

Her husband faltered for a moment. “Oh…well, I don’t…”

“It’s easy.” She smiled. “Just hold him like this and support his head.”

DORIAN GRAY

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