Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“And then there’s bacon,” I say. “You’ve gotta love bacon if you’re going to be my kid. Bacon sandwiches on a Sunday morning are the best things about Sundays. Oh, and you’ve got to be a good student. Grades don’t matter as long as you’re learning. Well, they do matter, but they don’t matter as much. Do you think you’ll become a doctor? It runs in the family, you know. But there’s room for other things as well. Your uncle Zach writes books for a living, and uncle Vincent makes a lot of money doing god only knows. But really, science is where it’s at. You get the chance to change lives, Guinevere.”
My heart sinks a little. I’ve tried to put it to the back of my head how Guinevere is going to impact my career. Mum always says you have to play the hand you’re dealt, but at the same time, I’ve always been clear about what I want out of my life.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be the best…father,” I confess.
Father.
I never thought I’d refer to myself that way. It was never a title I aspired to.
I wrap Guinevere in a pink towel with elephants on it. It’s one of the three thousand things we bought on our shopping trip earlier in the week with Eira. I place her on the bathmat, step over her and into the shower. “I think we might need a weekend nanny.” I’m pretty sure Eira would be appalled if she saw Guinevere on the floor of the bathroom and me covered in shit. “I’m going to work a lot and you don’t have a mum. There are challenges ahead. But you’ve got an awesome grumpy grandfather and a grandma who already adores you. And one or two of your uncles aren’t bad either. Then there are your aunts, who I’m rather fond of—although don’t tell them that. It’s a secret that stays between you and me. And you’re going to have your cousins.”
I stop. No mum. What will that be like? I can’t even imagine. I might be Guinevere’s father, but I’ll never be a dad. It’s just not who I am.
I’m not about to beg Kelly to come back into our lives. She made her decision about how to play the hand she was dealt, and I’ve made mine. Guinevere, planned or not, will grow up surrounded by people who love her. The Coves wouldn’t have it any other way, even if I can’t be the kind of father my brothers seem to want to be. Guinevere will be one of us—and for now, that has to be enough.
This baby may have changed a lot around here since her arrival, but I won’t sacrifice my work for anything or anyone. The world is just waiting to be changed—improved—and I’m committed to leaving behind a legacy of innovation. My parents had five kids—six, if you count Vincent—and while I wouldn’t trade my family for anything, my parents traded career advancement in exchange for us. Guinevere will be my only child. I’ll have an army of nannies to make sure I still give my all to my work, if that’s what it takes.
“I’m not going to win any Father of the Year prizes,” I tell her. “But I’ll be reliable. And you’ll always have a roof over your head and food in your tummy. And probably Chinese burns on your arms if your cousins are anything like their fathers. Don’t take it personally.”
I step out of the shower and Guinevere is gazing up at me. I should do an internet search on what she can actually see. She probably wonders if I’m about to attack her. It’s likely traumatic seeing the world from down there.
Quickly, I wrap a towel around my waist and scoop her up. “I’ll try not to be a complete fuck-up as a father, so long as you tell me you’re going to love bacon and don’t shit on me again. Deal?”
TWELVE
Eira
I step into the kitchen, half wondering whether Dax and Guinevere have moved out. It’s so peaceful.
But there they are. Guinevere in her DockATot under the kitchen table and Dax sitting next to her, eating his cereal.
“Good morning, both of you,” I say. “How was your day yesterday?”
I had to force myself out of the house yesterday. I knew Dax was perfectly capable of coping, but I also knew he’d doubt himself. Most of all, I knew he needed the time with Guinevere on his own to bond.
By the time I got home, they were both fast asleep. I crept into my room so I wouldn’t wake anyone.
Dax swallows and gives me a thumbs up. Chatty as usual then. At least he’s wearing a t-shirt.
I step closer and peer at Guinevere, just to make sure she’s still breathing. “Good morning, my Welsh princess.”