Page 29 of Dr. Single Dad

I stop. No mum. What will that be like? I can’t even imagine. I might be Guinevere’s father, but I’ll never be adad. It’s just not who I am.

I’m not about to beg Kelly to come back into our lives. She made her decision about how to play the hand she was dealt, and I’ve made mine. Guinevere, planned or not, will grow up surrounded by people who love her. The Coves wouldn’t have it any other way, even if I can’t be the kind of father my brothers seem to want to be. Guinevere will be one of us—and for now, that has to be enough.

This baby may have changed a lot around here since her arrival, but I won’t sacrifice my work for anything or anyone. The world is just waiting to be changed—improved—and I’m committed to leaving behind a legacy of innovation. My parents had five kids—six, if you count Vincent—and while I wouldn’t trade my family for anything, my parents traded career advancement in exchange for us. Guinevere will be my only child. I’ll have an army of nannies to make sure I still give my all to my work, if that’s what it takes.

“I’m not going to win any Father of the Year prizes,” I tell her. “But I’ll be reliable. And you’ll always have a roof over your head and food in your tummy. And probably Chinese burns on your arms if your cousins are anything like their fathers. Don’t take it personally.”

I step out of the shower and Guinevere is gazing up at me. I should do an internet search on what she can actually see. Sheprobably wonders if I’m about to attack her. It’s likely traumatic seeing the world from down there.

Quickly, I wrap a towel around my waist and scoop her up. “I’ll try not to be a complete fuck-up as a father, so long as you tell me you’re going to love bacon and don’t shit on me again. Deal?”

TWELVE

Eira

I step into the kitchen, half wondering whether Dax and Guinevere have moved out. It’s so peaceful.

But there they are. Guinevere in her DockATot under the kitchen table and Dax sitting next to her, eating his cereal.

“Good morning, both of you,” I say. “How was your day yesterday?”

I had to force myself out of the house yesterday. I knew Dax was perfectly capable of coping, but I also knew he’d doubt himself. Most of all, I knew he needed the time with Guinevere on his own to bond.

By the time I got home, they were both fast asleep. I crept into my room so I wouldn’t wake anyone.

Dax swallows and gives me a thumbs up. Chatty as usual then. At least he’s wearing a t-shirt.

I step closer and peer at Guinevere, just to make sure she’s still breathing. “Good morning, my Welsh princess.”

I turn back to the counter and set about making a cup of coffee. “Do you want one?” I ask. I start emptying the dishwasher while I wait for the coffee to brew.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

It’s a cup of coffee, so it’s not a big deal, but I’m pleased I can do something for him. He’s likely had his hands full since Guinevere woke up and a cup of coffee is probably exactly what he needs.

“Do you always do two things at once?” he asks.

I turn to make sure he’s talking to me.

“The dishwasher and the coffee. But you do it all the time. Folding the muslins and playing peekaboo. Doing laundry when you change her clothes. Putting out the bin when she has a dirty nappy.”

He’s been watching me. Observing. It sends a shiver down my spine.

“Just efficient, I guess.” I smile at him.

“Efficient. Huh.”

“Any plans for today?” I ask, wanting to get off the subject of me.

He takes a big breath in and then sighs. “Shit. I’ve got to cancel football this week.” He shakes his head. “Or I guess, forever.”

“Why?” I ask. Last time I saw him play—the day Doreen collapsed—it had been a Tuesday lunchtime. Does he play twice a week?

“Our team plays on Tuesday and Sunday,” he says, answering the question before I have a chance to ask it. “Unless I get a weekend nanny, which I’ve been thinking about.”

It must be difficult for him to adjust to being a father out of nowhere. But a weekend nanny wasn’t going to facilitate the bonding he needs so desperately with Guinevere. “I don’t haveany plans today. In fact, I was going to go for a walk. Why don’t I bring Guinevere to the park while you play football?”

“It’s your day off. You don’t need to do that,” he says.

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