Page 46 of Dr. Single Dad

Her lips twitch, and I know she’s got something to say, but she’s holding back.

“Say it,” I urge her.

She shakes her head. “It’s really none of my business.”

“You’re right. But I want to hear it anyway.”

“She’d have the best of everything, but not you? You’re the only thing she wants or needs. A human being in her corner, entirely on her side. Someone who will shield her from the worst of life’s twists and turns, teach her how to navigate them and comfort her when she’s lost. That’s all any of us want, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve tried to be for Eddie and Dylan, because none of us had it from our parents.”

“I bet you’re a great big sister,” I say.

“Dylan and Eddie would disagree, I’m sure. They’d probably say that I was pushy and overbearing and that I need to be…” She shrugs. “I don’t know, different. Sometimes I feel more like a parent than a sister. It’s just, I don’t want them to feel they haveno one they can rely on but themselves. Because I know that feeling.”

“But you have them,” I say.

“I do. But it’s different. For a start, I don’t rely on them financially. And I’m the oldest.”

“You give them money?” As soon as I’ve asked the question, I regret it. It’s none of my business.

“Not an allowance or anything, but obviously I pay Eddie’s university fees and expenses. And Dylan still needs me from time to time.”

“Jeez, Eira. You’re…” She’s so kind. And generous. “That’s a lot of burden.”

“It’s not a burden. Iwantto do it. My uncle didn’t do a lot, but my Portland fees were paid for through my trust.”

“And he didn’t help Dylan and Eddie?”

I shake my head. “He ran off to the Cayman Islands just before I turned twenty-five, which was when the trust was meant to be dissolved and I was supposed to come into my inheritance. I suppose I feel a little guilty that I got my education paid for but Eddie and Dylan didn’t.”

“Except they did. Because you paid.”

She shrugs. “I guess. But Guinevere isn’t going to have to worry about that. You just need to keep out of helicopters. And her uncles are a lot more trustworthy than mine.” She smiles like she’s made a joke, but I can’t help but think how awfully life has treated her.

She nudges me. “Whatever you do, you’re not my parents. You’re not my uncle. But maybe you might grow into wanting to give her more of you.”

I push my hands through my hair. It’s difficult hearing about her situation and relationship with her parents, especially when she thinks I’m going to make the same mistakes. But it’s different for me. “My work is—I know it sounds like I’m anarsehole, but I’m not talking about working to make money. I don’t need or want any more than I already have. I’m not doing this for selfish reasons—quite the opposite.”

“I get it,” she replies. “My father and mother wanted to be remembered. But mainly what drove them was wealth and status. I understand that’s not what you’re aiming for. You have much more altruistic goals.” Her lips press together and I can see her brain working. I want to know what she’s thinking—what she’s not saying. But I won’t press her. Not again. She’s had enough of that tonight.

“I think you have two loving parents who are incredible role models.”

Of course that’s what she sees. That’s what everyone sees. All I see is lost potential.

“But think what they could have done for medicine—for the human race—if they’d not had kids.”

She smiles at me, like she knows a secret that I don’t. “Oh, Dax.” My name from her lips scatters goose bumps over my body. “Did you stop to consider that they were only able to be as good as they arebecausethey had children? Each other? A family?”

I shake my head and uncross my leg from my knee. “You’re a romantic. Even though you’re dealing with kids’ shit and vomit and god knows what else. You’restilla romantic. Or maybe it’s not romanticism. More like…you’re on the inside of a conspiracy. Everyone is too scared to tell the truth about kids and marriage. The fact is there are only so many hours in a day. I don’t have time to be a great father and a great scientist. It’s just impossible.”

“Okay,” Eira says. “If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel.”

What’s she thinking? That I should have given Guinevere up for adoption? That I’m just as bad as her parents and Guinevere won’t miss me when I die either?

Sacrifices have to be made.

“You think I’m a selfish idiot.” It’s not a question. I can see it in her eyes.

“I think you’re a new parent, trying to figure stuff out. But no, I don’t think you’re going to end up like my parents, if that’s what you think.”

---