Still, he smiled at Beatriz when she fixed him with a beady stare, and blew on her nose when she blinked owlishly at the new expression. She wasn’t quite smiling yet. Her manner seemed to brighten up when they smiled at her, and she was definitely happier when they were happy, but she wasn’t quite sure of what her own face was yet and how to manipulate it to copy them. Her attempts were quite sweet, but he was eagerly anticipating her first smile.
“Going to have your daddy’s smile,” he told her in Spanish, and she butted her head clumsily against his shoulder. He chuckled, shifting her to lie down in his arms, and trailed the soft dressing gown cord over her so she could play with it. She scrunched her fingers into the fabric, but snuggled sleepily into his chest rather than played. “Erik!”
“Yeah?”
“Can you get her yellow blanket?”
“Course!”