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She stifled a laugh as he physically took a step backwards into the refrigerator when she advanced with the now-bawling Imogen.
‘I don’t think... I’m in the middle of making breakfast.’
‘I can wait. Imogen won’t.’
Evie held his daughter out in amusement and reluctantly he took her, delighted when Imogen’s cries eased up a little. Despite his uncharacteristic uncertainty about keeping a baby happy, he was clearly more than comfortable actually holding one.
Something to do with the surgeon in him who was able to soothe and examine any patient, just as long as they weren’t being asked to change nappies or feed them.
‘What should I...?’
‘Just cuddle her, and show her what I’m doing. Talk her through it—it might distract her.’
‘Look, baby Imogen, your mummy’s opening the cupboard,’ he began awkwardly.
Evie stuck her head inside and laughed quietly. It was surreal watching the super-surgeon Max Van Berg so wholly out of his depth. She’d never seen it before, and she could bet no one at Silvertrees—or anywhere else, for that matter—had ever seen it, either.
‘Look, your breakfast. Oh, you understood that, huh?’
She could hear his surprise as Imogen’s cries lessened slightly as she turned her head to look.
‘Um... Oh, I can see a breakfast bottle, how about you, Imogen?’ He loosened up slightly, gaining confidence as his daughter rewarded his efforts with snuffles now instead of cries.
Evie moved around the space easily; nothing had really changed from the last time she’d been here. Except for the circumstances, of course. Max continued talking, albeit stiltedly, to his daughter until Evie was ready and offered to take Imogen back.
His relief was evident as he hurried towards her, and she stamped down a surge of disappointment that he didn’t want to feed his daughter himself. It was something she loved to do. Still, he’d made good progress. And it was only the first morning.
‘What are we doing today?’ Evie ventured as she settled on the chair to give Imogen her feed.
‘I have surgeries
this morning,’ he answered apologetically.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was six-thirty already. He was running late.
‘I cancelled all the electives I could, or passed them onto colleagues,’ he answered her unspoken questions. ‘I’m not on the rota for emergencies so this morning I’m clearing my desk of any immediate cases. I should be finished by the time you go in for your dialysis session this afternoon, but if not just go to the crèche and tell them who you are. They’ve reserved a place for Imogen until I finish.’
‘Silvertrees crèche? How did you get her in there?’ Evie exclaimed. ‘It’s a twelve-month wait list, isn’t it? There was a nurse who had just put her kid down when I was working in A&E. She was told she probably wouldn’t be able to get him in until he was nine months old, and she was pregnant at the time.’
‘Perks of being one of Silvertrees’ senior surgeons.’ Max winked at her.
Her stomach flip-flopped in response.
‘Isn’t it just,’ she murmured distractedly before a concerning thought settled on her. ‘Max, you aren’t planning on leaving her there every day when I go in, are you? I mean, she’s never been to a crèche before. She’s always had myself, or Annie. If I’d thought you weren’t going to be looking after her, I would never have agreed to come here.’
‘I know that, stop worrying. I told you, I have a few cases to clear off my desk but I’ve sorted out the rest. I’ve booked two weeks off and I will be looking after our daughter personally. I will not be palming her off on someone else, because I know that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘Well, good.’ She refused to apologise for caring about her daughter.
However, she didn’t dare ask how he’d managed to secure two weeks off at such short notice. He’d either pulled in a fair few favours, or promised them, and she was grateful for it.
‘Right, well, whilst you’re feeding the baby, let me finish your breakfast.’
He passed Imogen back to her, each hand-off getting easier than the last. He was clearly growing in confidence as Imogen’s father. But she needed his progress to be quicker. Max was obviously thinking of her recovery—it was one of the reasons he’d brought her here, so that she was closer to the transplant unit at Silvertrees. But she didn’t know if he realised just how integral their daughter’s welfare was to how stress-free her recovery would be.
Evie was determined to see some kind of bond between the two of them before she went into hospital. It would make her feel a heck of a lot more confident about being away from her precious baby girl.
CHAPTER SIX
