“I don’t think pediatricians make house calls this late at night. It’s a fever. Hopefully, the acetaminophen will kick in and work.”
“He’s more than a pediatrician. Michael’s part of the team. He may not participate all the time, but he’s there when we need him and vice versa,” Leo informed her.
“I know, but he has little ones, and he can’t be running up the mountain because our son has a fever. He’s acted fussy all evening. I thought he might be teething,” she said, taking him from the tub, drying him off, and redressing him.
“I don’t know, he seems…off,” he told her as he glanced at his son.
“If he’s still running a fever in the morning, I’ll call Michael,” she assured him, picking up Derrick and bouncing him gently.
“Why don’t you rest, and I’ll take the first shift?” he offered.
“You need to go back to the facility, Leo. I appreciate the help, but I’m still royally pissed at you,” she said, tiredly. “I’m up for the day anyway. In a couple of hours, I’ll have to get Melody up to shower and get dressed. Once he goes down, I’ll take my shower and prep everything. I usually do it in the evening, but I didn’t have time tonight,” she reasoned.
“You’re carrying our child while trying to care for this one, and Grace will wake up in about an hour.”
“She’s sleeping until seven these days,” Kit Kat replied.
“When did she start?” he asked as he held out his arms for their son.
“Two months ago,” she said, handing the baby over.
Damn, he didn’t seem to know what happened in his own household. He came every morning and never realized it.
“I’ll pack the snacks for daycare and after school,” he offered.
“We no longer pack after-school snacks. Since the kids are older, they go to the hospital cafeteria with Avie and the other schoolchildren, have a snack, then do an outdoor activity before starting homework. By the time I pick Melody up, she’s almost done with everything except studying for a test,” she informed him.
Shit. Why did he not know?
“I’ll pack Derrick’s bottles and Grace’s snacks,” he said. “Go lie down for a bit.”
“There’s no need for his. My milk supply increased, and I’ve taken enough for the week to the hospital, and I’m there to breastfeed. Grace will only take a second,” she argued.
“Damn it, Kit Kat,” Leo swore out his frustration. “I’m trying, and it feels like you’re blocking my every move.”
“I’m not doing anything of the sort,” she denied. “Sometimes, I don’t think you’re aware of everything happening around you. It usually doesn’t bother me because you’re there when it comes to the kids.”
“What do you mean, ‘When it comes to the kids?’” he asked coldly.
“Frankly, Leo, I’m not sure how we created another child,” she admitted. “I rarely see you, and spending time alone feels impossible. If it’s not the kids, it’s work. You haven’t seen me in a while,” she confessed quietly.
Derrick finally fell asleep, and he took him to the nursery, shut the door, and returned to the kitchen.
“If I didn’t see you, then you might not be pregnant,” he teased, only to realize she didn’t take it kindly.
She sent him a scathing glare. “When was the last time you took me to dinner?”
Leo stopped to think. He pointed his finger at her and grinned. “I took you out last month. We ate fresh salmon, potatoes, and asparagus at that restaurant,” he said, snapping his fingers, trying to recall the name.
“You mean the take-out we reheated after you missed our reservations?” she retorted.
“Wait. What about the pizza date?” he challenged.
Kit Kat sighed. “You mean the pizza we ate while you surveilled your daughter at her first solo invitation playdate outside of Serenity Mountain?”
“Did you want to leave her alone?” he questioned. “Considering all the shit I found out about the dad, I’d figure you’d appreciate my safeguarding our daughter.”
“Finding out the dad sleeps with his secretary doesn’t constitute a federal crime,” she deadpanned.
