Page 41 of Dr. Single Dad

“Eira,” someone calls. I’m torn. I want to be on hand for Dax if he needs anything, but at the same time, someone else wants my attention.

I fix my smile in place and turn.

“Here’s your tea,” Sutton says, handing me the mug I’d placed down. “Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely.” I grin as if to underline my point. “Guinevere just needs to eat.”

“Is she on a schedule?” she asks.

“She is. Some babies just are happy to slot into a timetable.”

“It’s no wonder, given her father,” she says.

I make no comment and try to keep my facial expression neutral.

“How’s he taking to it?” Her expression shifts from amused to concerned, her eyebrows pinching together.

“Amazingly,” I say, that defensive feeling rising up in my chest again. “Takes all humans a while to learn to live together at first.”

She laughs. “I guess you’re right. Some humans are easier than others. But it helps that Jacob likes a schedule. Me too, I suppose.”

“We’re all different,” I say. That’s what I would tell Eddie and Dylan as they got older and asked questions about our family. Why our parents were gone such a lot. Why we didn’t have dinner all together like they saw on television.Every family is different, I would tell them.

The Coves couldn’t be more different from the Cadogans.

“But Dax is so caring,” I say.

“He is?” says Jacob.

“Yes,” I say at the same time as Carole.

“Just because he’s not as verbal as the rest of you doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care,” Carole says. I want to applaud, but I don’t. “I’m glad things are going well,” she says to me. She holds my gaze as if she’s waiting for me to contradict her.

“Yes, very well,” I reassure her.

“Well, we’re all delighted you’re here,” she says. “I knew the first time we met that you’d fit right in.”

That’s my job. Fit in, become part of the background. Useful scenery, unnoticed until needed. Hopefully that’s how things will go this weekend. Dax won’t notice me and I won’t notice him.

Something tells me that’s wishful thinking.

SEVENTEEN

Eira

I stand at the door to Dax’s room, looking between the monitor and the travel cot. Guinevere doesn’t seem to be concerned about being in a different place at all. Maybe because she knows she’s surrounded by her entire family who clearly adore her already, despite her barely opening her eyes this afternoon.

“How is she?” John asks in hushed tones from behind me.

“Sleeping like a princess,” I whisper in reply.

“Are you ready to eat?” he asks.

I wave him away. “I can fix something later. I’ll keep an eye on Guinevere.”

He takes a breath. “You have a monitor.” He pauses. “And better than a monitor, you’ve probably got a good instinct and excellent hearing. Guinevere will be fine while you eat. While we all eat. Together as a family.”

Gravel collects at the back of my throat at the wordfamily, but I’m out of excuses.

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