Page 20 of The Secret

“Thought I could hear you causing havoc already,” he said to his son.

“Papa!” His arms reached out toward Cooper who took him, positioning him on his hip so they both faced the room.

“Hey, man, how’re you doing?”

“Yeah, alright.” I looked around the kitchen of guys. “Where are the girls? They came, right?”

Cooper nodded. “They’re helping your mom with the nanny’s room, and getting the baby’s room ready.”

“Oh, cool.”

My daughter – a term still sounding so alien - had been sleeping in my room with me, so it was easier for when she needed feeding in the night, but that was something the nanny would be doing now, until she slept through the night. And the baby’s room was connected to hers, a feature in my apartment that I’d never understood before my mum had explained it. Because while I didn’t need six bedrooms, I hadn’t been able to find a smaller apartment in the area and building I’d wanted to live. And since Wednesday, the room had been transformed into a baby nursery, thanks to Freddie’s skills as an interior designer. The nanny’s room had also been transformed. While it had already contained a separate space off the main bedroom, Freddie had turned it into a small kitchen, with a fridge and microwave, along with a sitting area filled with books and a flat screen television.

“Heard she still hasn’t got a name.”

I snorted, unsurprised. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I left them talking about it.” He walked over to the coffee machine, flicking it on. “Who’s this nanny that’s coming? Is she special or something?”

“What d’you mean?”

He shrugged. “They just seem to be making a really big deal about it. We had to stop and pick up fresh flowers for her room. It’s why we only just got here.”

I held my arms out in an expression of cluelessness. “I’ve had nothing to do with it. They’ve sorted it all. I just assumed this was what always happened when someone came over to look after your kid.”

“Grandpa!” shrieked Sam, deafening us all momentarily as my dad walked into the kitchen carrying my daughter.

“Hey, Sammy boy,” he replied to Sam’s wide open arms, the universal signal that he wanted to move onto someone else. “Give me a second. I’m just holding your new baby cousin. Let me give her to Uncle Murray.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure, bud.” Cooper carried him over to where my dad was standing, the baby in his arms.

Samson peered down, his face taking on an expression of reverence.

“She’s little, like baby Mac,” Sam whispered, looking up at Cooper for confirmation.

“She sure is. And just like you were.” Cooper tickled him, making him laugh.

“Not quite like he was,” muttered Jasper.

And that very was true. Samson had never been small, he’d clearly taken after his father.

“Here, let me.” I gently took the baby from my dad, her green eyes open but not quite managing to focus on what was going on.

“Your mother said there’s a bottle in the fridge for her. It needs warming.”

“I’ll sort it; I’m doing Mac’s anyway.” Jasper took the bottle out and got to work.

I sat down at the kitchen table and stared at my daughter, as I’d done every time I’d had her in my arms, felt the weight of her body, watched her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. I’d tried to find the similarities between us, but beyond how much she looked like Florence when she’d been born, there’d been none.

Nothing I could call mine.

“Here.” Jasper thrust her warm bottle of formula at me before he took Mac out of the cat seat and sat down next to me.

“Thank you.”

She took it immediately, so much better than the first time I’d fed her, latching on instinctively and gulping it down noisily. I could probably claim she ate like me, and I’d even say she’d grown since Wednesday because of how well she’d been eating. And she definitely didn’t like being hungry, also like me, making it known to everyone when she was ready for her bottle.

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