Page 79 of Who's Your Daddy?

“I know.” I lean closer to kiss her nose because any form of affection is only going to annoy her more. “Now, get your tights on, and let’s go for yoga.”

15. Peter

The loud clanging ofpots jolts me from my sleep. My head pops up like a meerkat, and I listen closely to see if I imagined it. Nope. There it is again. I check my phone and groan when my brain registers the time.

The only person who’s ever up and busy at this ungodly time is Dylan, but he doesn’t live here anymore. I toss over and see that the spot beside me is empty. With a tired groan, I kick off the covers, pull on a pair of sweatpants, and head downstairs to see what all the commotion is about.

I walk in just in time to see Lia dump the entire drawer of cutlery into the sink. “What are you doing?” I ask, squinting to protect my eyes from the harsh fluorescent light.

“Just washing up.”

The cutlery was clean before she dropped it in the sink. “Everything?”

“Yes.”

“You know, Meghan and herentirecleaning crew come in five times a week to do exactly that.”

“I know...but she doesn’t clean everything.”

I nod. “Yeah, she tends to focus on the things that are dirty. She’s generally not gonna wash something that’s already been washed.”

“Exactly!” she replies sprightly, filling up the sink with soapy water. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

I remind myself that she doesn’t have a personality disorder. This is just the nesting phase. She isn’t crazy. Just a little hormonal. Slightly erratic. It’s all part of the process. And I’m loving the process. I love how everything evolves from week to week, from her appetite to her reactions. I love how her body’s changing. Our little guy is approximately the size of a mango, and he’s making his presence known. She’s got the cutest little bump now, and I’m enjoying every little experience with her.

Except this one. I could do without this kitchen clatter before dawn.

“Li, it’s five-thirty in the morning. Just come back to bed, and I’ll help you with this later.”

She shakes her head and starts washing the clean cutlery. “I have so much to do.”

“You really don’t.”

“Peter, it’s Thanksgiving tomorrow. I gotta prep the turkey. I gotta make the condiments. And this house has to be spotless. Your friends will be here. Your parents are coming. I can’t—”

“My parents aren’t coming.”

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