Clara Grant watched his adorable little face, a warmth spreading through her heart. She reached out to touch his tiny hand and said with a smile, "Hey there."
To her surprise, the moment her hand touched his, he gripped it tightly and leaned forward, trying to get into her arms.
Clara Grant froze. 'Does the little guy want me to hold him?'
Just as she had that thought, the little one's mouth opened slightly, and he uttered a few syllables. "Mama, hold..."
It wasn't perfectly clear, but the meaning was unmistakable.
Clara Grant was taken aback.
The man, who had just pulled out a tissue to wipe the baby's sweat, froze when he heard him. He immediately straightened the boy up, looked him in the eye, and said in a firm but gentle voice, "Sweetie, she's not Mama. She's an Auntie. You can't just call people that, understand?"
After he spoke, he turned to Clara Grant with an embarrassed smile. "I'm so sorry, Miss."
