Aunt Faye’s pressing on Kat’s belly to push out the afterbirth and I’m still marveling at the baby’s little peach of a head and itty-bitty fingers like an opossum’s. I can’t believe that one day these tiny hands will take up a pencil or a rolling pin or a steering wheel, will slap someone and stroke someone, will tremble in fear and clap with joy, and I wonder what kind of woman will have these hands, what she will do with them.
