“Come on, Elliot,” Leopold coaxed, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the largest parlor room in his estate and holding his hands out to his five-month-old great-grandson. “Come to Granddad.”
Elliot Leopold Vann gave his great-grandfather a gummy smile and rocked back and forth on his hands and knees, but didn’t succeed in making any forward motion. He plopped back down on his belly and gnawed on the bright orange teething ring in his hand.
Leopold, laughing, shook his head. “He’s getting close, that one. He’s going to be crawling next month, mark my words.”
“Don’t remind me,” Rebecca sighed, taking a sip of her wine. “I don’t know where to even begin with baby-proofing.”
“Rosie doesn’t seem to be in that much of a hurry,” Nico remarked, cuddling his baby daughter. Rosalie Irene Vann was still sleeping peacefully, unlike her twin brother, who had woken early from his nap and demanded to be entertained.