Page 93 of Hearts Aweigh
Spencer wished he could yank his tongue out of his head. Abby looked like she wouldn’t mind helping him, and his daughter cowered as if he were an ogre. He’d never get this parenting thing right.
After a silent prayer, he knelt on the floor by the bed. “I mean”—his voice was getting squeaky again—“I don’t want you to be sick. It …” He cast an alarmed look at Abby.
She must have taken pity on him. Abby smoothed her hand across Madeleine’s shoulder. “Your daddy’s really sad when you’re sick. He wants you to be happy and healthy.”
“Right.” Spencer adjusted her comforter. “I want you to be happy. Very, very happy.”
“And he loves you so much.” Abby gave him an encouraging nod.
“Yes. I”—the long unused words didn’t come naturally to him—“I l-love you. Very much.”
Madeleine’s smile appeared above the sheet, but it dissolved into a wince. “Oooooh. It twinges.”
Abby held up the mug. “Here. Drink another sip of tea.” She patted his daughter’s head until she finished the tea and tucked the blankets in tight around her.
“Are you leaving?” Tears welled in Madeleine’s eyes.
“Oh, no.” Abby grabbed a stack of books from the nightstand. “I’m deciding which story to read first.” She looked over at him. “You don’t have to stay, Mr. Masterson. I’ll take care of her.”
An argument surged in his throat, but he suppressed it. Abby was the expert. Perhaps Madeleine would rest easier if he wasn’t there. He begrudgingly rose to his feet and left the room. Behind him, Abby began a tale of a baby panda who learned to water-ski.
Spencer remained downstairs while Abby ministered to his daughter. He alternated between pacing the living room and staring blankly at his laptop screen. An occasional whimper drifted from above and threw his brain into confusion.
It was midnight when Abby finally returned to the lower level. She yawned and said, “Maddie’s asleep.”
She carried the empty mug to the kitchen without looking his way. He followed her to the sink and waited.
Abby washed the cup, left it upside down on a towel to dry, and folded her hands in front of her. “Did you need something?”
“I need answers.” He tapped his fingers on the marble countertop. “Why would Daisy feed my daughter two cupcakes?”
“She didn’t feed her two. She fed her one. Maddie snuck the other cupcake.” Abby laughed. “I was proud when I heard that.”
“Proud? For being sneaky?”
“Of course not. In a normal situation, I’d have a serious talk with the child. But Maddie never does anything wrong. She’s always so well-behaved, it’s a relief to see her acting like a regular five-year-old. Tonight, she’s learning the hard way that too much sugar is bad.”
“I don’t want her to learn the hard way. It’s my job to protect her.”
“That’s a normal parental desire, but unrealistic.” Abby stood straight, her hands still in the servile position. “Think of how many invaluable lessons you learned because you wouldn’t listen when someone tried to warn you.”
“Please don’t marry that woman.”
His mother’s voice floated unbidden through Spencer’s memory. She’d tried to tell him the relationship with his ex-wife was doomed, but he’d ignored her. What did Daisy know about happy marriages? Perhaps she’d recognized the looming disaster because she knew aboutunhappyones. She’d been right. The wedding was a giant success, but everything that followed was a tragedy.
Everything except Madeleine.
And now she was sick upstairs because he hadn’t safeguarded her.
He threaded his fingers through his hair and left both hands on top of his head. Why was he so wretched at being a father? As he’d prepared for Madeleine to live with him, he’d bought a stack of self-help books, subscribed to online family psychology seminars, and even hired a parenting coach.
Perhaps it was the same as being a lawyer. Some people were naturally gifted. When it came to understanding children, he wasn’t. But Abby was. If he could only convince her to share that expertise with Madeleine on a permanent basis.
Abby eyed his distressed posture. Her mouth opened, but she halted. Took a step back. “If there’s nothing else, I’m exhausted.” Her high heels clicked against the kitchen tile. She walked to the couch and picked up her bag. “I’ll report for work at eight in the morning.”
Panic hit Spencer’s gut. What if Madeleine woke while Abby was gone? What if she was sick again? What if she cried?
“Wait!” He bellowed the word like an ill-tempered judge.
