Birthright

“Because you called.” He squeezed her shoulder in what was half congratulation, half gratitude. He kissed her temple. It was new to him, this liking being needed. It was the sort of thing that used to send Daniel running for cover. “So what can I do? I want to get it right. I can harass a nurse for updates. I can,” he danced his fingers in the air, “Run around yelling, ‘Why won’t somebody talk to me!’ and pulling my hair.”