Page 6 of Daddy's Unexpected Gift

“So, exactly how are you going to be able to help me out?” I asked. She didn’t exactly look like a nanny, and I couldn’t figure out how all that paperwork would be beneficial.

Georgie picked that moment to start squirming, and then her siren wail of distress was back.

I set my drink down and lifted her up. I had never been allowed to hold or play with Argene until she was older and walking. Her daughter sort of hung from her armpits with my hands around her tiny rib cage.

“That’s not how you hold a crying baby!” the agency lady said, launching from where she sat.

She pulled the kid from my hands and immediately had her arms wrapped around the baby and began cooing and bouncing.

“She’s soaking wet. Where is the changing station?” she demanded.

I shook my head.

“Diapers? Do you have any?”

“Miss.” Wayne appeared suddenly with the diaper bag in hand.

“Thank you. Where do you change her?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Wherever.”

When she rolled her eyes at me, I changed my mind again. She couldn’t be more than nineteen. Why had they sent over a kid?

“Wherever? Like you just change her diaper on the couch, the kitchen table, the floor?”

“Oh, no, not on the table, but that would be the right height. So far, I’ve just changed her on the bed.”

“She has a bed?”

“My bed,” I clarified.

“Where’s your bathroom?” she asked.

“I’ll show you. This way,” Wayne interjected.

She turned to follow him.

I followed her.

“When was the last time you gave her a bottle, or did she have anything to eat?”

“She had some applesauce last night. And we tried to give her some this morning, but she refused to eat.”

“No bottles?”

I shook my head. “No one said anything about bottles.”

Wayne opened the bathroom door. She brushed past him, set the diaper bag on the counter, and then placed Georgie next to it. The baby hadn’t stopped crying, but she was much quieter. The young woman never took her hand off the kid as she rummaged through the bag and pulled out what looked like a mini yoga mat, and then a diaper. With what looked like professional skills, she had Georgie on the mat and her diaper changed in no time.

She then proceeded to remove the clothes that I had struggled to dress the baby in. She held them out. “This is wet. Also, the fabric is super scratchy. Has she been fussy?”

“Fussy would have been pleasant,” I admitted.

“Mr. Alexander, it doesn't appear to me that you know what you’re doing. My first report isn’t going to look very good.”

“Report? Who are you going to report me to? How about we start with who you are?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry. I was caught off guard with what appeared to be a disaster, and then your drink… My bad. I’m Cecelia Harrison from Child Services. I’m your case manager.”

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