He set her on the couch gently and walked around with purpose, as if he had a system. First, he gave her a bottle that she quickly began drinking out of, her hands holding it on her own. He then began to brush through her hair slowly with a hairbrush, trying to keep from pulling too hard. He sang to her under her breath and she kicked her feet, obviously content.
Avice watched, keeping away against the wall. Her expression seemed somewhat.. adoring, but eventually she glanced at the floor.
The bedroom smelt of Jack, and the drawers even more so. The upper two appeared to be his clothing, folded neatly, and the bottom three seemed to be Aubrey’s, mostly tiny overalls.
When she returned, he had laid out a blanket and set Aubrey on it and if Avice was paying attention, she would notice that Jack seemed tense, reaching down and patting Aubrey’s stomach as if reassuring himself that she was still there.
"It matters," he insisted, his demeanor becoming unwelcoming again. "She'll cry if your hands are cold."
