Page 26 of The Doctor's Surprise Family

“I’ll call you,” said Claire, and took Oli’s hand. I watched them go, dazed… so, that had gone well? I hadn’t done much parenting, but was I supposed to? Was it a good sign, Oli shaking my hand? His grandpa had told him to, but…could I call you Dad?That had to mean something. It sure did to me.

This weekend felt far off, farther than Christmas. I wasn’t sure I could wait. I guessed I’d just have to.

CHAPTER 11

CLAIRE

I’d planned for the park to be sort of a kiss-off. Oli had a pattern when he met new adults: he’d start shy, get curious, then he’d get bored. I’d picked the park on purpose so he’d run off and play, and Blake would see where he fit in, which was nowhere. Oli had me and he had his grandparents. He had his friends and his teachers from Little Bugs pre-K. He didn’t need some stranger trying to play dad… except, maybe he did, because he jumped straight on Blake. And his fascination didn’t wear off when we left the park. All week, he was on me with questions on questions.

“Mom? What’s my dad’s favorite book?”

“Mom? Does Dad like spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Mom? Did Dad have a dog growing up?”

I hated that I knew every one of the answers. I knew Blake as well as I knew myself. So I should’ve expected what he did next.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I skimmed through the schedule he’d made. “Eleven forty-five, lunch at Pie Palace. Twelvetwenty-five, bathroom break— You scheduled abathroombreak?”

Blake looked bemused. “Because we’ll be driving?”

“But you can’t just, you can’t…” I threw up my hands. “You didn’t consult me about any of this. Pizzaandthe aquarium, and the play center? Andthenyou want?—”

“The aquarium? Can we pet the penguins?” Oli charged in with his shirt buttoned wrong and one of his socks on inside-out. “I want a pet penguin. Can penguins be pets?”

“Come here,” I said, and reached for his shirt. He’d dirtied his blue one playing with Buster, and I’d sent him to clean up for lunch with Blake. I’d meant grab a new shirt and wash his hands, but he’d put on his church shirt and his big-boy pants, and the striped socks I’d gotten him for Christmas. He bounced from one foot to the other as I undid his buttons, and batted my hands off when I tried to fix them.

“I can do it myself!”

“I know, but hon?—”

“See? I can do it! I got one already!”

He’d got the wrong one again, and I shot Blake a black look. This was exactly what I’d tried to tell him, what Iwouldhave told him if he’d bothered to ask. Oli was already cranked up to eleven, wired like he’d just downed a bag of pure sugar. Add pizza to that, and the aquarium, and Playland, and by his nap time, he’d be running wild. He’d refuse to go down and he’d cry or he’d fidget, and then he’d be cranky the rest of the night. I’d be lucky to avoid a full-scale tantrum, either tonight or tomorrow whenhe had to get up. He’d be off-schedule fordays, all thanks to Blake.

“It’s okay,” said Blake. “It’s on me, my treat. I got vouchers for Playland, so?—”

“Playland!?” Oli let out an express train shriek. It was starting already, and Blake didn’t get it. He had noideawhat he’d just done.

“You’ll love it,” he said. “We’ll say hi to the penguins while our pizza digests, then we can go and we’ll play all you want.”

I did a literal facepalm. Oli grinned up at Blake.

“Did you go to Playland with your mom and dad?”

Blake’s smile was strained. “Never quite got that chance. Oh, hey, look out.” He dropped down to shield Oli from a dog-kiss attack. Not to be thwarted, Buster slurped him instead. Blake laughed and I softened. He was trying, I guessed. He’d got it all wrong, but who didn’t at first? It wasn’t like children came with a guidebook.

“Okay,” I said, trying to restore order. “Buster, back off. You know better than that. Oli, come let me do up your shirt. Blake, uh… okay. We’ll start with Pie Palace. But you can throw out that schedule, because… watch and learn.”

Blake frowned, confused, and I got started. I did up Oli’s buttons with his eager “help,” then convinced him to fix up his inside-out sock. Halfway through doing that, he started playing sock-puppets, introducing his dad to Jake the Sock Frog. Then he had to show Blake he could tie his own shoes — which, to his credit, he did pretty well. But he had to redo them till the loops were all even, and then he wanted to zip his own jacket.

“It’s warm out,” said Blake, on his fifth attempt. “I’m not sure you need?—”

“No!I can do it!”

Blake held his hands up. “I believe you. But mine’s not zipped. Youcouldjust?—”

“I’ve got it!”

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