Within a couple hours, we got the news.
“I’m a daddy!” Rip picked Goose up off the floor, like Samuel had with Jane. “You’re an uncle…or an aunt. No, you’re an uncle.”
“Either way,” Goose said. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A little girl. I have a little baby girl. She’s beautiful…just like her mother…except with my nose, Shelby says.”
“Aww. When do we get to see them?”
That took another thirty minutes, or so. “Meet little Ripley Abigail Dolensky.”
Goose covered his mouth. The short sob was happy, I was sure. “Ripley…”
“I know, Bro-ford. I know.”
“I heard Gramma.” Shelby took Goose’s hand. “I swear, I did. She called me Birdie. I bet we’ll call the baby that.”
“I love it,” Goose said. “She’s okay?”
“Early but fine, the doctor said. Healthy as can be, and big.”
“Big is good.”
“Remem
