Page 34 of The Single Father Upstairs

We sat at the picnic table eating our ice cream, talking about all we had accomplished. The more we talked, the more I feared there was still to do. But coming home and walking intoour place fresh after our break, I instantly relaxed. Yes, the bookshelf still needed organizing, because for some reason my brain couldn’t let go of it, but the rest of the apartment was nearly ready. While at ice cream, the diaper caddy and diapering supplies had been ordered. Stellan was almost done with the bassinette. All my belongings were in their right place. We were ready.

17

STELLAN

Marmalade was agitated.

She’d been weaving around Miles’s ankles all morning. And while she did that countless times a day, there was something different about her movements. They were jerky, and she kept sniffing my mate. We’d gotten over the other tenants doing that, but they’d passed their irritating habits to the cat.

In the afternoon, she climbed onto his lap and tapped his belly with one paw before laying her head on the bump. And while she wasn’t growling as she did at Blizzard that one time they met, the sounds out of her mouth were ones I’d never heard a cat make.

“Marmalade, no.” I reached for her, and she glared at me. I allowed my bear into my gaze, but that didn’t faze her.

“We’ve talked about this.” Miles took her in his arms. “No claws around the bump.”

“No claws around any of us ever.” I glanced at the scratched legs on the kitchen table.

“Ohhh.” He hugged the cat. “Ohhh, Marmalade, maybe you’re on to something.”

“She’s a very smart cat,” Indigo called from the bedroom where she was doing her homework.

“Ohhh what, Miles?” I sank onto the floor beside the couch. “What is it?”

“Indie’s right. She is smart.”

I banged a fist on my brow. “Will someone tell me what’s happening?”

Miles released his grip on the cat, and she placed a paw on his bump. My mate’s breathing had changed. It was a little deeper and faster, but not quite a pant.

“I believe that was a contraction.”

I didn’t question it because animals sensed things people couldn’t, such as storms, tremors, and changes in a sick body. The cat looked at me and her expression said,Finally you’re paying attention.

Indigo was at the door, and I was on my feet. We shared a glance, and my daughter raced into the kitchen and grabbed ice chips while I fumbled with my phone and found our birthing playlist.

Well, really. How did the cat know before I did and before Miles?My bear harrumphed. His kind often picked up the first signs of labor, and he was furious the cat had beaten him to it.I’ll never live this down.

I told him to cut it out as I took Miles’s hands and asked him where he wanted to be.

“Right here. It was mild, and I’m intrigued by the latest soap opera I’ve been watching.”

Indigo was beside me with her overnight bag and the cat carrier. “Come on, Marmalade. That’s the signal for us to skedaddle to Rudy’s.” She hugged Miles and said she couldn’t wait to meet the baby and put the cat in the carrier.

“Love you, dads.”

“No kiss or hug for me, kiddo?”

She ran back and wrapped her arms around me, and the cat complained because she was getting squished.

“Just one contraction? And if there were others, how far apart are they?”

Miles was holding the remote control and hit pause. “My love, I don’t know. This is my first time. You’re the expert.”

Being present when Indigo was born didn’t make me knowledgeable about birthing babies. Besides, each birth was different.

My mate turned on the TV and patted the sofa beside him. While he watched, I ran over how long it would take to get to hospital if there were complications. I’d done a test drive—well, a lot of them—at different times of the day and timed the journey in peak-hour traffic and in the middle of the night.

But I didn’t understand why my mate was so calm, because our baby was coming.