He caught Trina’s encouraging smile and suddenly saw how she could be a good midwife. Her empathy shone warm—he felt she understood and was reassuring him that he would conquer his fear of letting Piper out of his sight. All without putting on pressure. Encouraging him to test his own strength without expectations. Treating him like a woman in labour battling her own fear. Wow. She had it down pat.
Then she said, ‘She loves minding babies. And babies love her. Usually she’s minding them for free. We keep telling her she should become a midwife and I wouldn’t be surprised when the boys go to school if she’ll look at it. But, for now, she’s just starting up official day care.’
Absently he bent and stroked Piper’s leg at his side. ‘Maybe I could meet her before I talk to Dr Southwell? It’s a good idea to see if Piper likes her before I commit to work, though. You’ll have to give me her number.’
‘Or we could visit her. Meet her and her husband. See their house. They’re a lovely couple and live only a few doors up from you. In the blue pastel cottage.’
It was all happening too quickly. He could feel the panic build and squashed it down again. He could do this. Just not today.
Catrina touched his arm—the first time she had physically connected with him of her own volition—and again that frisson of awareness hummed where they touched. He glanced at her but her expression still showed only compassionate support. ‘It’s something to think about. Marni is just the one I know. There will be others when you’re ready.’
His relief made his shoulders sag. She must have seen it on his face. Was he that transparent? He’d have to work on his game face before he went back to work or his patients’ parents would run a mile.
He tried to make light of it. ‘I imagine every parent must feel like this when they have to go back to work. Torn.’
‘Absolutely. We see mums that can’t stay in hospital for one night after birth because they hate leaving the other child or children too much.’ She looked towards Piper and smiled. ‘I’d find it hard to leave Piper if she were mine.’
His face tightened. He could feel it. Some women could. Piper’s mother had no problem. And he’d be the one who had to break his daughter’s heart when the time came to tell the truth.
Catrina opened her mouth—he didn’t want to talk about Clancy—but all she said was, ‘The cave’s just around this next headland.’ He was glad she’d changed the subject.
The cave, when they arrived, curved back into the cliff and created an overhang half the size of his house. A few round boulders acted as seats for looking out over the ocean out of the sun. Or rain. Plenty of evidence suggested people had camped and made campfires there but on the whole it had stayed clean and cool, and dim towards the back. The sort of place young boys would love to go with their mates.
He could stand up in the cave easily and they stomped around in it for a few minutes before Catrina suggested they go the small distance further to the glade so Piper could be released from the backpack.
The glade, when they arrived, had a park bench and table at the edge of the slope down into the bowl-shaped dip of grass. The bright sunshine made the grass lime cordial-coloured and the thick bed of kikuyu and daisies felt softer and springier than he expected when he put Piper down to crawl. Because of the sloping sides of the bowl Piper tended to end up back in the lowest point in the middle even when she climbed the sides and he could feel his mouth twitching as she furrowed her brows and tried to work out what was happening.
He pulled a bright saucer-sized ball from her backpack and tossed it in the centre of the glade while Catrina set their picnic bag on the table and spread the cloth. Piper crawled to the ball and batted it. Of course it rolled back down the side to her again. She pushed it again and crowed when it rolled back again.
‘Clever girl,’ he said to his daughter, and ‘Clever girl,’ to Catrina, who grinned at him as she finished laying out their treats and came to sit next to him on the side of the grass hill. ‘I can’t remember when I last had a picnic,’ he said as he passed an arrowroot biscuit to Piper and took one of the apples for himself.
‘I know. Me either.’ She handed him the can of drink and took a sip of her own. Then he heard her sigh blissfully.
‘We couldn’t have had more beautiful weather this afternoon.’
‘A bit different to this morning.’
‘That’s the beauty of Lighthouse Bay. We’re temperate. Not too hot for long or too cold for long. Always leaning towards perfect weather.’
‘Always?’
Catrina laughed. ‘Well, no. We do have wild storms sometimes. That’s why I have shutters on my windows and doors. But not often.’
The afternoon passed in a desultory fashion and once, when Piper dozed off in his arms, he and Catrina lay side by side watching the clouds pass overhead in companionable silence. He’d never met anyone as restful as she was. It would have been so simple to slide closer and take her hand but the man who could have done that had broken a year ago.
An hour later, on the way home from their walk, he asked again about the exact location of the day care mum.
‘I could come with you to knock on the door? Maybe meeting the family would help?’
‘Just drop in?’ Despite his initial reluctance, he could see that an impromptu visit could be less orchestrated than one when they expected him. And he had Catrina to come with him to break the ice.
It made sense. Not fair perhaps, but this was his baby he was considering leaving in their care, and he wanted a true representation of the feeling of the household.
When the door opened to answer his knock, a smiling red-haired man answered. Past him they could hear the sound of a child squealing and the smell of a roast dinner drifted out to tantalise his nose. He hadn’t had an old-fashioned roast for years. His mouth watered.
‘Can I help you?’ Then the man saw Catrina and smiled beatifically. ‘Trina!’
‘Hello, Bob. How are you?’ The man stepped forward and hugged her and Finn was surprised.
When they stepped back from each other she said, ‘Something smells divine. Lucky you—Sunday roast.’
‘You’re welcome any time, Trina.’ He grinned and looked at her companion.
‘This is Finn Foley. He’s a friend and I told him about Marni offering childcare and—’ she indicated Piper ‘—he and Piper have just started looking.’ Finn glanced at Catrina. Took a second to savour that she’d claimed friendship. She really was his only friend here.
She still spoke to Bob. ‘I wondered if he could have a chat with Marni?’
‘Absolutely. Any friend of yours and all that.’ Bob grinned at Finn. ‘Come in. Marni? There’s a dad here looking for information about childcare.’
Finn liked the way he said that. To his wife, with deference, and that he wasn’t committing to anything. Just asking. His nerves settled a fraction as he followed Catrina, with Piper on his back, in the door.
The room had been divided into two, with a kitchen and lounge on one side and a wall with doors on the other. Bedrooms, he guessed, unlike his one-room cottage. An extension had been built out the back with a big play room that overlooked the tiny fenced garden. Everything sparkled; even the toys strewn on the floor in the play room caught the sunlight and looked new and well cared for. The family warmth in the little abode made the tension drop from his shoulders and his eyes met Trina’s in acknowledgement.
A young woman crossed to them, drying her hands on a tea towel. She too hugged Catrina, and her shy smile eased the tension in Finn’s stomach like magic. ‘Trina. Great to see you.’
‘This