G sighed and shook his head. "For tonight, you do whatever April tells you to in order to keep him alive. After, you feed him, clothe him, clean him, hug him. Holding him keeps him warm and calm." He wasn't totally sure about that last one, but picking up crying babies and holding them had worked more often than not when he had to do it in one of the group homes. " Babies are more tactile than taciturn older brothers."
If there was one thing G was adamant his nephew would have, it was a name. Not 'he' or 'it' or a damned letter. This little baby was getting a name, an identity. "Now you don't have to agree. It's your choice that matters. What do you want to name your son, Rob? Who do you want your son to be?"